Legally 'F' Pt. 01

Could I do it?

Did I have a choice?

"Yes," I said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I answered, my voice had firmed up quite a little once I had made my decision.

Her hand opened the folder, I looked down and breathed a sigh of relief. Mr. Devonport was in his early forties, manly, handsome, I'd met him a few times, he had a deep voice, and a penetrating gaze, this was as good as I could expect, at least it wasn't some old lecher close to retirement who was lusting after me.

"Your sponsor, quite the attractive fellow too," Steph said.

She handed me a card, "this is the lawyer who will take care of the paperwork, be at his office a 9 AM, I will meet you there."

She leaned over kissed my cheek, her hand gave my thigh a gentle squeeze of encouragement, "let's get a drink."

Phase 3 -- Change of Status

My hand ached from all the signatures and initials I had transcribed on so many sheets of paper as I transitioned from Joseph Affelman to Josephine Mary Hume.

A new Birth Certificate and Passport would soon be mine, Bank Cards, Credit Cards, Health Insurance Cards, anything you could think of which had my name on it, I signed on as J. M. Hume.

The lawyers told me everything would be expedited through back channels, and I would have all my paperwork in less than twenty-four hours.

Steph and I had consumed one cocktail too many last night, and I was still a bit sensitive, I'd was drinking about four bottles of water an hour, and still felt less than one hundred percent, she, on the other hand, looked as fresh as a daisy.

On the uber drive home, she'd made out with me, and found me willing and responsive. As I stepped out of the car door, her hand gently slapped my ass as she laughingly told me, "I knew you were a slut," before the driver sped off.

I signed the release documents for my current apartment and then a two bedroom apartment on the upper east side was transferred into my name.

My student loans and credit card debt had been paid off and fifty thousand dollars had been deposited to my bank account. I'd only been paying the minimum six percent into my 401K to get the company match, but that had been made up to the full amount I could possibly have paid.

In a few hours, I'd gone from something of a financial basket case, to rather well off with a credit score of eight fifty.

Then came the waivers.

'Form 312B -- Agreement for reconstructive surgery.'

Steph explained again this was limited to the procedures she had had, all reversible after the three year indenture period, or it could go further at my request and with the agreement of my sponsor.

'Form A16 -- Release from sexual harassment in the workplace.'

I was a bit worried about that, but Steph explained it was limited to Mr. Davenport as my sponsor only, everyone else was under the same restrictions the company preached so loudly about.

I wasn't too worried therefore when I signed form 'A17 -- Consent for Sex in the workplace.'

I looked at Steph, "Mr. Davenport only too?"

"Not quite Josephine."

She was the first person to ever use the feminine version of my name.

"Mr. Davenport, and anyone who you consent too, under the conditions I described to you earlier."

"I don't like Josephine, it's too unwieldy, and I can't use Joe as that was my name in my former life, that would be too confusing," I thought about it for a few moments, 'I think I prefer Josie."

Steph grinned, "Josie it is, now back to work."

We spent about 3 hours getting through the mass of paperwork ending with 'Form ZZ12 -- Agreement to reimburse' this one basically promised financial ruin if I backed out anytime in the three years.

The paperwork was done, I was committed.

Steph and I got another Uber uptown to the fancy office of an interior designer where we laid out color schemes and plans for an apartment that I would not see for at least a year. With Steph's help, I managed to get an appropriate feminine feel, elegant, sophisticated, left to my own devices I would have probably ended up sophomoric and girly.

After that, another Uber ride to an upscale salon where we picked out all the clothes a professional girl starting in life would need. They would be tailored to fit when I returned from school, so that was another thing I would not see for at least a year.

After all the paperwork had been completed, we had some more drinks, another Uber, another make-out session in the back, then I did something I have never done to anyone before, I invited her in for a drink.

"Into your gamer guy's bachelor pad, I don't think so hon, not my scene," she giggled, "anyway, it wouldn't be a good idea, not just now," she cast her eyes down to the bulge in her skirt, matched by the bulge in my jeans, "but I'll take a rain check for when you return from School."

Phase 4 -- Iran

All my documents had arrived and I was ready to begin, a cleaning crew would clean up my apartment, box up my personal effects and goodwill the men's clothes I had left behind, the honk of the Uber below let me know it was time.

I didn't hesitate, I was committed, I had had a few days to reflect on the choices I had made, I didn't think given my current circumstances I had much choice other than destitution, and I was reconciled to my fate.

Reconciled and just a little excited, fate may have forced me to chose a road, but I wasn't truly unhappy with the choices she had given me, that may change when I was faced with the reality of what was to come, but that was at least six months down the line, so for now, I took a deep breath and rushed down the stairs.

Steph was sitting in the back seat, she had taken me out to dinner and drinks every night, and dropped me safely off at my apartment afterward, we had decent restaurants and pubs close to my apartment, but she seemed to choose those much further away.

One side of my suspicious mind said it was because she fancied me and it was so we could make out in the back of the cab at the end of the night, the other side said she was grooming me for my upcoming role, but she was a great kisser and I was learning a great deal from her.

Other than letting me slip a hand under her blouse to feel her boobs, we never went further than kissing, but that kissing was enough, as soon as I was in the front door of my apartment I let my trousers down and relived the pressure of a cock which had been fully hard for the last 30 minutes.

My orgasms had never been quite so intense, or my ejaculations quite so powerful.

The driver took off towards JFK, soon we pulled up to the first class lounge for Qatar Airlines and Steph dealt with the paperwork.

"We want you to feel safe honey, I think we've struck up a good rapport, so I'll be with you as your guide until we are back in America, if you want me too that is, you can always ask for another guide to meet you at the destination if that makes you feel more comfortable."

"Oh Steph, of course, I want you, I wouldn't want anyone else," I paused, "but where are we going?"

"Tehran, Iran."

"What!. Are you crazy?"

"Shhsh, quite Josie, I know you are confused so let me explain, no doubt you have seen the news headlines about life for the LGBT community inside Iran, persecution, prison, and you are wondering why we would go somewhere so dangerous?

"It's exactly because of their conservative attitude that Iran is one of the world leaders in gender reassignment surgery, two boys are not allowed to have a relationship under their law, but if one of those boys legally becomes a girl, then there is no crime committed.

"It's become very popular in Iran, in fact the Iranian government wants their success to become well known to the outside world too, it's one of the few sources of foreign revenue that is not subject to US sanctions, and travel to Iran for reassignment surgery is also one of the few things with no prohibition by the US government.

"That relaxations of those rules came from the arch-conservatives in the US Congress, while they may not like the idea of TGI surgeries, they hate the idea of gay sex more.

"If the couple they see looks like a boy and a girl, they can at least pretend any sex going on is biblical, hypocritical as hell, but it's good for us.

"You will actually be seeing my own surgeon, Dr. Ahmadi, you'll look great afterward, trust me, after all, look at me."

From worry to laughter in a few words, Steph really did have a way of putting me at ease.

On the first day in the hospital facility, they took a full 3D scan of my body. I had to have my cock scanned both flaccid and erect, the technician never left his station, when it came time to get an erection, he looked on as I watched porn on TV and masturbated. I was blushing and my cock wasn't getting fully hard as I pulled on it, then a voice came over the intercom, "I don't remember you having a problem getting a hardon in the back of that Uber honey."

Good old Steph, at the sound of her voice my cock finally stood to attention and the scanner quickly completed its business. I asked the technician to close the blinds, hopped up on the bed, and masturbated to a fantasy of Steph fucking me from behind.

Dr. Ahmadi sat with me for all of the next day, as the 3D image rotated around us, he would zoom in and out on areas on the model, describing my options, 36C boobs, Adam's apple reduction, some minor thinning of my facial features which were already pretty feminine, full delipidation treatment, butt lift, a little liposuction on my thighs, and a little shaping of my shoulders, waist and ribs.

The Doctor told me it would take him four surgeries to complete the process, each would be five days apart, and I would have one weeks rest in the facility after everything was completed for check-ups. After that, I would be sent to the facilities private beach for two weeks, where I would rest further while gaining a controlled tan, then back to see the good Doctor for a final checkup.

Six to eight weeks, if all went well, if there were complications up to twelve weeks.

There was only one mandatory procedure I could not refuse, a concentrated testosterone injection into my balls, it would allow me to get and sustain more frequent erections, and would ensure that it was almost impossible for my balls to run dry, so there would always be a thick stream of spunk shooting from my eye as I came.

An after effect of the shot was that my cock would get a little bigger, all of it, length, girth, head, not much, but with each injection a slight increase in size would occur.

It would be renewed every six months, but any nurse or even medical technician could perform the procedure.

The Doctor changed the display from a green line diagram to a fleshed out model, I looked stunning, I could not wait.

The surgeries hurt, but for too much, Dr. Ahmadi was very pleased with my progress physically and mentally and released me for my two weeks vacation.

I had been in a hospital gown for the last few weeks, and I wasn't happy when Steph turned up with an all back outfit for me, Headscarf, loose-fitting shirt, jacket, and trousers, I had been transformed into something beautiful and now it was being hidden under this dark potato sack.

Steph sensed my unhappiness, "when in Rome honey, but we won't be in Rome for long."

The hospital had its own resort, private lake, clear blue water which looked warm and still, combed white sandy beach, remote, quiet, perfect for relaxation.

Steph had already checked us into adjacent rooms, she gave me my room key and I stepped through the door into the chill of air conditioning on high. A small suitcase sat on my bed, on top of it, a skimpy yellow bikini, my first ever.

With tears in my eyes, I turned to hug her, "careful honey, don't split your stitches."

"Steph, what can I say but, thanks."

"So what do you want to do first Josie, get out of that Black monstrosity and into that bikini, or look through the suitcase to see what other goodies I've got for you."

I'd been stuck inside that hospital for weeks, the answer was clear, "beach."

In minutes I was looking at my bikinied butt in the mirror, and my cock was getting hard at the sight, Steph came through the door as I continued my vanity, "you look great Josie."

From the bulge in her own bikini bottoms, I knew she was telling the truth, hand in hand we walked down to the beach. Loungers had been reserved for us, and cocktails were on the table between. I looked at her, one manicured thin eye brown raised in question.

"This is a very special place Josie, the normal rules do not apply here," saying that, she moved her hands behind her, undid her bikini top, and let her naked boobs falls out.

I gasped, I had touched her breasts, but I had never seen them before, they were a little larger than mine but with the same profile, Dr. Ahmadi's work was very recognizable.

As I continued to stare she stepped out her bikini bottom, her half erect cock drew my eyes as I watched her place the bikini parts on the table, "I wouldn't want a tan line, do you?"

So here it was, my first jump, a low one at that, but an important one. As I removed my bikini my own cock was fully erect, Steph eyed it appreciatively as I lay down on the lounger beside her.

"Why don't I oil you up," Steph said, "Dr. Ahmadi wouldn't appreciate me letting you burn."

We spent two wonderful weeks together, we made out often, but never went further than touching each other's boobs, when things got too heated we would each rush to our separate rooms, masturbate, quickly shower, then meet up again.

By the end of the two weeks, we were Golden Brown, and I had never been happier in my life. I was a little in love with Steph, she was the first person who had ever allowed me to see them naked, to intimately touch them, kiss them often.

She warned me not to fall too deeply for her, a year was a long time for both of us, especially the year I had in front of me, she would always be there for me, but if we were going to take this further, we had to wait.

That having been said Mr. Davenport had already signed off on the two of us having a corporate affair during my junior year. Steph wasn't telling me anything, but I guessed she and Mr. Davenport had had an affair of their own at some point in time, maybe something a little deeper than a brief fling.

Phase 5 -- Deportment School First Week.

We landed at JFK and I hugged and tearfully kissed Steph at the sidewalk before she put me in an Uber with a final friendly pat of my ass and sent me on my ride to deportment school in the Catskill Mountains.

As we climbed up from the City, high into the green hills and then the wild mountains I was taken by the view and my funk at leaving Steph behind slowly dissipated among some of Americas greatest beauty.

The Catskills are surprisingly empty for being so close to Americas greatest metropolis, soon we were rushing up a remote winding single track road, through trees which closed over the path and hid the light from those below, it was sort of creepy and sort of lovely, the shades moved as the car passed little clearances of light, then stretches of twilight, then stretches of almost total darkness.

I sat back, relaxed and enjoyed natures strange stroboscope. Finally, we broke from the trees, about a mile ahead, just under the crown of the mountain was a not quite genuine castle. I had seen real castles in my one trip abroad to Scotland and Ireland, and that one was obviously fake, but for an American replica, it was still pretty damn good.

On arrival, my few clothes were taken from me and I was given a black canvas bag with my school clothes.

Black Mary Janes, Black knee length hold up stockings, white cotton bra and panty sets, a cream skirt which reached to mid-thigh, dark blue Shirt, a dark blue blazer, and a dark blue school tie.

The tie was solid blue, the teacher who watched over me, informed me that as I progressed in my education, the shield of the school's coats of arms would appear with increasing frequency until just before graduation I would have three rows of three shields.

I had three sets of uniforms, with a couple of extra Bras and Panty sets thrown in, I had a dark blue unflattering one-piece bathing suit, dark blue old fashioned 1950s style gym clothes, an ugly dark blue Sunday dress, and to round off my humiliation, a dark blue ankle length flannel nighty which looked even worse than the black tents some Iranian women wore.

I was told the school rules, I was here to learn, not to have fun. Days were long and filled with instruction, from seven in the morning until seven in the evening, homework until ten. Six days a week, Sunday was our rest day.

I would start with a fairly light load, but as I read through the curriculum I had been given, the pages became increasingly filled. Mrs. Brown, my form master for my stay, informed me that it was also part of the program's testing, did one handle the pressure and stress of an increasing workload with grace.

The course was usually twenty-six weeks long, but as any failed class required a complete resit from beginning to end, some girls took a full year to graduate. Failing any class three time was grounds for expulsion.

At Mrs. Brown's instruction, I pulled my skirt up and my panties down, and for the first time ever I experienced the feeling of being put in chastity. I looked at my cock in its clear plastic prison and felt the grommet which constricted my balls, I did not like this at all.

Once the procedure was completed it was explained that orgasm was a privilege, my chastity device would be removed on Friday night (if I had earned it), once I had masturbated twice, it was expected that I would turn up at my form masters rooms to be put in chastity once again.

It was on the honor system, but there was only one punishment for breaking the honor code, expulsion.

My first week's classes would be diet, exercise, and stretching, I was only to wear the dark blue gym clothes for the remainder of that week not my uniform, I was expected to launder them before bed, which meant I had to wear that horrible bloody nighty the rest of the time.

Phase 6 -- Deportment School Third Week.

My days consisted of running, swimming, and yoga, Mrs. Brown was a personal fitness trainer and drove me to exhaustion on a daily basis, but when I looked at myself in the full-length mirror in my bathroom, I could see the difference she was making in my body, and I liked it, I really, really liked it.

"Josephine, get those balls to the floor," she would command, "do you expect your gentleman to do all the work for you, you have to be supple enough to easily adapt to any position he desires, effortlessly, for both of you, now push down girl, ignore the pain and push."

It hurt, but it worked, it would be a long time before any of my 'gentleman' would see the fruit of my labors, but when the time came they would not be disappointed.

My nutritionist had me eating seven small meals a day, shakes, fruit, veggies, no sugars, no meat, it was designed to complete the feminization of my shapes. Before I had arrived at school my dreams where full of images of me eating Stephs cock, that beautiful instrument had been replaced with the rather mundane image of a cheeseburger, god what I would give to gag on a cheeseburger right now.

My chastity device was removed for the first time on my third Friday, a half hour later I was standing outside Mrs. Brown's rooms as it was replaced. She closed her door, and as I walked away I swear I could hear her laughter through it.

Now my real work began, Dress was my favorite class as I could get out of my hated school uniform into something properly feminine for just a few hours. I learned how to properly wear stocking and suspenders, line my stocking up properly, how to position each type of panties to flatter my butt to the fullest extent, how to wear a skirt to show a flash of panties if I was flirting with a guy, or to never do so if I wasn't interested. How to walk in a dress to the best erotic effects, how to move the skirts, how to position my cleavage. It was my favorite class.