The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 26

Author's note - big chapter, worth finishing.

Every transition is like a flight over the wide ocean. There is a point of no return, the place where going back is worse than moving forward towards the destination. Pilots refer to this as the 'bingo' point. It's difficult to determine exactly where this point lies, so if you pass it without noticing, your fate is sealed long before your plane exhausts its fuel. You're dead; you simply don't know it yet. Gender transitioning is no different.

The flight to Qatar was intense. Levant's private jet was busy. Rachel had been sent to the bedroom with Lucy while Douglas, Volk, Mel and others, talked privately about the meeting over project Zeitgeist. Lucy was doing email on her laptop and it was unclear if Lucy was watching Rachel or was also out of the loop. The hostesses had been sent to their micro bunks upforward with the pilot. Peter and Jerry sat on jump seats up with the pilots.

Levant's bedroom was a stylish tribute to oak and mahogany craftsmanship, exuding an air and last survivor of an age of opulence and refined taste. Polished wood adorned the walls, creating an elegant ambiance reminiscent of a luxurious private club. The intricate detailing and smooth finish of the furniture spoke of the masterful skill of the artisans involved in its creation.

As Rachel leant back on the pillow, she marveled at its ingeniously compact design, akin to a sleeping car on the iconic Orient Express. Despite its modest size, every inch of the room was thoughtfully utilized, leaving no wasted space. The clever arrangement allowed for seamless movement without compromising on comfort or sophistication.

A concealed panel revealed a hidden treasure--a cleverly positioned reading light, casting a soft glow that enhanced the inviting atmosphere. It beckoned those seeking solace within the pages of a book, providing a cozy nook amidst the luxurious surroundings. Near by was a new small, neatly stocked shelf of books.

The centerpiece of the room was the bed, a magnificent creation that had witnessed the resting moments shared between Levant and Rachel. Its expansive size provided ample room for them to surrender to sleep's embrace, enveloped in the plushness of the finest linens. The mattress cradled their bodies, offering a sanctuary of rest and tranquility during their long journey from America.

In this private haven, Levant and Rachel found respite from the outside world, where time seemed to suspend, and their connection deepened in the comfort of their shared space.

Rachel sat on the bed, back to the pillows, legs folded before her, patent pumps on display. On her lap sat a large document which had been abruptly placed there on departure. This was the printed copy of the new contract. What was significant was its enormity, clearly attempting to circumvent the "no sex" clause by defining what acts did not constitute as such. The implication was that anything short of penetration was deemed fair game in Levant's perspective.

Long ago, Charlie had explained negotiation to Rachel, and this written version mirrored their discussion on the rooftop terrace. Thus, Rachel revised the contract terms to either "no never" or to be "phased in" at a later stage. However, in doing so, the "if married" clauses became a dumping ground for more of Levant's extreme ideas. Levant had waived all penalties, so the deadline was rapidly approaching, risking the loss of medical coverage.

Rachel looked up from the contract "What's a vagina prosthesis?" She asked.

Lucy looked over "it's like a fleshy pair of knickers but with a vagina sized pocket moulded into it. It's used by mid-western girls who want sex with their boyfriends but still want to be a virgin on their wedding night and it's used by trans women too. I found a place online which does custom-fit ones even has a clit and pussylips. They have external labia but also a pee tube so you don't have to take them off to pee." The clinical delivery clearly signalled Lucy's contempt.

Rachel sat back that sounded useful this was going to be tricky. The prosthesis sounded easy, less revolting. He wouldn't actually be penetrating Rachel, so it didn't seem as disgusting. Lucy was recommending it, indicating that she believed it would allow Levant to feel like he was making love to Rachel. Her plan was evidently to make Levant grow tired of Rachel so he would move on. Lucy was uncertain, but that was Rachel's plan as well. If Levant became bored, he would stop eventually, but the contract would ensure that he wouldn't simply abandon the arrangement. To be honest not having to ungaff to pee sounded like a big benefit.

Rachel knew she needed Levant for a while longer. Cancer treatment was expensive and never swift, considering the entire remission period that needed to be accounted for. Her grandfather required care in a nursing home, and her mother and aunt were too fatigued to look after to him. With the highest possible care costs he was paying, they were estimating nearly a hundred thousand dollars by the end of it all.

Rachel wondered, Introducing the prosthesis early might be a bad idea for her. Still laying on her back watching Levant's rippled stomach bounce up and down on the equivalent of a high tech oven glove sounded low down on the yuck factor.

"I'll try one and reserve judgement until I've done it" Rachel wrote. ' Phased in month 5'. Rachel wrote next to it, remembering she could negotiate down to 1.

The meeting finished just before midday; after a superb lunch, Rachel noticed that people started to get excited. She looked out below and saw a vast expanse of desert. It was strange to see such a place with so few signs of humanity. The pilot announced that they would be landing in half an hour. Lucy came along and handed a strange outfit to Rachel.

"It's a yashmak - you need to have your head covered. They are fairly lenient on Westerners, but we are meeting the prince. He's quite old school about most things, especially women and dress. So we wear it and don't get seen without a man accompanying you. Don't worry if he ignores you; it's just his way of doing things," Lucy said.

Rachel disappeared into Levant's bedroom she came back with the yashmak on.

Qatar was quite modern and cosmopolitan, but it turned out that the prince they were meeting with was quite the conservative traditionalist. He had advised against lifting the driving ban on women in Saudi Arabia and was still vocal about it. However, he had a significant amount of money, even more than the Bin Lardens, they said. The plane landed at a very modern-looking airport. The pulled to a stop near a large hanger. Cars were waiting for them like a military operation.

"Remember, don't shake hands. Never use your left hand to hold things; it's considered dirty," Lucy said as the aircraft door opened, and they walked into the kind of heat you might feel on the edge of the sun. Rachel followed Levant down the steps.

"It's hot, isn't it?" Levant said. "Not as hot as I am for you."

"Stop, you're making me wet," Rachel lied.

Levant strode off at a brisk pace to meet the prince, who was getting out of a huge SUV tinted with gold leaf.

"Well, I'm glad there is more than one man in a dress here," Rachel said, looking at the prince in this loose thobe a red and white ghutra and black agal with gold fittings.

Lucy came over. "You know why Levant didn't expect you to come?" she said, walking next to Rachel.

"No," Rachel replied. Obviously, the fewer people who attended this secret meeting, the better. However, it was clear that Lucy meant something else.

"The penalty for being gay here is jail, or is it 40 lashes of the whip? They don't acknowledge anything about being transgender. If they figure out your who you really are, you're in serious trouble," Lucy said, almost triumphantly. "Like jail or flagellation trouble."

"Levant would get me out," Rachel said, looking at the row of massive planes in the distance. Everything looked so new and modern.

"And offend his biggest investor? Are you willing to risk that pretty little back of yours on it?" Lucy said, her voice smirking. "Now, be a nice little girl and be quiet."

**********

Rachel got into the back of the waiting SUV with Lucy, Levant, and Peter, the bodyguard. The driver was a local and pulled off sharply after the leading SUV. The air conditioning worked hard, and soon the scorching heat was replaced with a pleasant, slight chill. Rachel remained silent but was amazed by the world beyond the tinted windows. Firstly, all the faces were dark, with very few people in traditional clothing. Most were wearing slacks, and there were practically no women in sight. On the freeways, the cars were enormous and expensive, but there were significantly fewer vehicles compared to an American freeway.

"Welcome to Doha, Oh," Levant said, pulling out a box from his jacket. "You might want to wear this while you're here," he said, handing over the box.

Rachel opened it, and there was a gold engagement ring.

"I thought in the contract I said no to this?" she said, slightly confused. The contract was still bouncing around. Levant kept putting hypno-tapes and other things into it. Normally she would push it into the 'if married' section, which she did for all junk she didn't want to contemplate. Levant kept counter-offering, putting it back in, and she kept crossing out. Focusing on that other details could get lost, technically, she was under the old contract but had flexibility to show willing.

Lucy pulled out another engagement ring from her handbag and slipped it on her own finger.

"You should know," Lucy added, "out here, you will get hit on quite a lot. You need to wear a wedding ring or an engagement ring just to say you're not interested. It's such a convention for Western women that if you don't wear one, it's like saying you're actually asking for it. In the Western malls, you're okay, but it's better to be safe than sorry. See?"

Lucy held up her hand to show the wedding ring. For Rachel, the ring was appropriate. Lucy was married to the left side of Levant's brain, the part responsible for analytical reasoning, planning, and memory abilities.

Rachel squeezed the ring onto her finger and then looked at her hand.

Levant looked on and grinned. "I hope to see you do that for real one day."

Rachel looked back at him with doe eyes and added, "Never say never."

But Levant didn't get the joke. Rachel felt she was now married to Levant's right brain, the part involved in nonverbal communication, recognizing and expressing emotions, and engaging in artistic and imaginative pursuits. If a way all the woman on the trip where brides of Levant.

They passed through a vast set of tower blocks, modern skyscrapers that were enormous, clean, and intricately designed. Rachel looked out and felt an odd sense of familiarity, as it reminded her of America. Even the advertisements and signs were in English, not Arabic. Next to the road, there seemed to be an empty elevated freeway, except that it was devoid of traffic. Then, they were overtaken by a train that gradually slowed down to pull into a station. As the parade of skyscrapers continued, there was a misty spike in the distance. Soon, the freeway curved and twisted, revealing the jagged spike that was being worshipped by a number of typically colossal office blocks with mirror-like surfaces.

"Is that as peculiar as I think it is?" Rachel asked.

Levant, sitting next to her, replied, "Yes, that's the Al Bidda Tower," he said, pointing. "I have a ten percent stake in it."

"It's like the path of a dolphin diving in the sea," Rachel remarked.

Looking around, every building appeared new and astonishing. The palm trees resembled those in Las Vegas, but everything was fresh, pristine, and almost perfect.

"I love seeing the world through your eyes," Levant said.

"This place must be a developer's dream come true," Rachel said. Levant laughed.

They passed fountains, manicured grass, and then entered an car entrance.They pulled up to the Versace Hotel in Dubai. It stood as a majestic oasis amidst the city's vibrant skyline. Its grandeur and opulence captivated the senses, beckoning visitors into a world of luxury and extravagance.

The hotels guests and workers noticed the lead car from which the sheikh disembarked. Heads turned, and people in uniforms approached.

As they approached the hotel's entrance, the colossal doors opened, revealing a lobby adorned with intricate marble flooring and glistening crystal chandeliers hanging from above. The air was infused with the delicate aroma of fresh flowers, creating an atmosphere of refined elegance.

"Lucy, take the passports and get us checked in," Levant instructed.

Lucy nodded, and Rachel watched as her blue American passport disappeared into Lucy's clenched fist. If she were to be subjected to a thorough search, she would be in a heap of trouble. Here more than ever, she was totally dependent on Levant's good graces. If she was abandoned here, she was as vulnerable as a foreign rose in the desert.

Levant took hold of Rachel's hands. "Cinnamon, you go to the suite. I'll catch up later. Freshen up. I need to talk to the prince before tomorrow's meeting. I'll join you for dinner. Wear that beautiful flowing white dress; it will look great in the restaurant. Lucy will provide you with a functional SIM card. If Volk or anyone shows up, I'll be meeting the Prince in his rooms."

Rachel appeared confused. "Doesn't he have a palace or something? He lives here, right?"

Levant shook his head. "No, he's not from Qatar. He's just visiting. Feel free to explore, but avoid the Gold Souk; I have a special surprise planned for that."

Levant leaned forward and kissed Rachel, surprising her slightly, but she reciprocated the kiss. Rachel stepped back, blushing slightly.

She looked around the hotel's interior embraced the essence of Versace's iconic design. It showcased a fusion of classic and contemporary elements. From the sumptuous furnishings to the meticulously crafted details, every corner exuded a sense of sophistication and style. Lavish fabrics in rich hues adorned the walls, while plush carpets cushioned each step. The furnishings, inspired by Italian craftsmanship, seamlessly blended with modern amenities, creating a harmonious balance of old-world charm and modern convenience. The place felt to Rachel like a space ship which had been launched in the fourteenth century and had just returned.

Lucy approached and handed Rachel her card along with an Amazon package.

A local equivalent of a bellboy insisted on carrying Rachel's bags and opening all the doors to the elevators and the suite itself. Rachel was accustomed to this and walked gracefully, following the bellboy's lead, with her best feminine stride.

****

Rachel entered the expansive Presidential suite, her mouth forming a perfect red "O" as she marveled at the decor and size. The walls were adorned with ornate golden accents, intricately crafted to reflect the hotel's signature opulence. Soft, ambient lighting bathed the room, casting a warm glow that danced upon the richly textured wallpaper. The air carried a faint scent of jasmine, heightening the sensory experience. Near the entrance, Some bags had already been delivered.

"Just put it down over there, thanks," she said to the bellboy. "I don't have any local currency," Rachel added, unsure if tipping was customary in this country, and even less certain about the currency used for tipping.

"No problem," the bellboy replied, then added, "you're a woman."

Rachel turned around and felt her rear being stroked. She was strongly tempted to punch him in the face but realized it wouldn't be the wisest decision in this unfamiliar country. Once the interaction was over, the bellboy departed.

Rachel examined the package that Lucy had given her. There was a note on the packaging, written in Lucy's handwriting with a pen: "Try this on." The package was secured with an elastic band, and there was an envelope containing local currency.

"Now I find it." Rachel said to her self.

Opening the package Rachel found some flesh colored silicon panties. The instructions describe this as a vagina prosthesis. It seemed to be the ultimate high tech gaff. There was a catheter arrangement on the inside. This meant Rachel could pee without taking it off. That made her very curious. Going out generally meant trying to avoid drinking. Visiting to the toilet when tucked was not a simple and quick operation. If you went without any tape then there was a strong possibility returning to the table bulging in the wrong place. That would be a strict strike.

Not drinking in this heat, she knew that might lead to a bladder infection. This was not the kind of country in which you wanted to have a bladder infection.

Along with the internal catheter was a tube which fitted around Denver's dick and kept things on the inside. There were two highly textured passages front and back 'for your partner's enjoyment & pleasure' the instructions said.

They slipped on like panties and had slightly more padding, which thanks to the HRT Rachel didn't really need.

Rachel decided to have a shower and then work out how to put what she now called the desert gaff on. It took over an hour, partly the shower was nice. Partly as her parts needed reshaving and partly, the desert gaff looked complicated to put on. Rachel was quite accomplished with tape and a normal gaff but this was hardly a quick operation.

Now finally finished Rachel checked her self out in the mirror. The panties started above her stomach and did a fairly good job of pulling her waist in. They ended on her thighs and if you had the right pair of stockings would be invisible. Staring at her silicon vagina in the mirror seemed weird. It made her body slightly longer but it was still unnervingly real.

She couldn't resist putting on a pair of stockings and a garter she found in one of her cases. Flipping a pair of black patten pumps on and another check forced Rachel to come to the conclusion this would drive Levant wild. She touched the silicon clit and for a second was slightly disappointed she didn't feel anything.

"God Rachel" she said to her self, "your like so dumb."

The package came with a sample of lime green lubricant. The instructions suggested its use. She put some on and pushed her fingers into her new desert pussy to spread it around. It didn't smell like real pussy juice. Charlie's was nice and salty, Peter's was a little acidy. Her fingers reported it felt more textured than any pussy Rachel had felt before. It was like the pussy equivalent of a rabbit vibrator like the one Charlie used. Far more stimulating than the real thing. Rachel checked her self out in the mirror.

"If Douglas gets a taste of this he is never going back to regular pussy." she said waving her hips in the mirror. Then wondered if it was true, "Wow this is like a dangerous weapon."

She felt round the back. She also had a desert fanny. Again it ended in a second tube. The sphincter was looser than her own. She didn't know how up tight about using it Douglas might be. She wondered about offering the rear fanny, would the back package be just a slippery slope to her real one?

She walked around the apartment a little bit more then nature called. She walked into the gold and glass toilet and sat down. Dever's package was attached to one end of the tube. It took a while to get over the weirdness. Then she went and a long golden stream came out of the fake button. It was weird seeing it emerge from her synthetic lady parts between her legs.

It was how ever Rachel's new favourite thing. The sheer convenience of not having to un-gaff and re-gaff for the toilet was a miracle.

"Oh yeah!" Rachel said, "Result."