A group of young army women stood in the corridor, blocking our path and in no hurry to move. I wore no makeup, but my skin was shiny with moisturizer, polished and blemish free. My long hair was tied in a bun; my nails were trimmed and unvarnished.

  Suddenly the cadets were standing aside and saluting. I knew it wasn’t for me or Toni.

  “Valery 01, so nice to see you again.”

  She was out of uniform but there was no mistaking the Colonel from the police station. Her sparkling eyes, the grace of her neck, and the shape of her lips stood out.

  “You can leave us,” she said to Toni.

  “Lost your tongue?” she asked.

  “Time permitting,” I replied.

  “Excellent, and we haven’t even begun the therapy.”

  Her white coat was too small. Perhaps it was no accident but rather a deliberate cry for attention as it embraced her curves. She wore plimsolls, and the glimpse of her fishnet hose was heavenly.

  “You have me at a disadvantage,” I said.

  “Naturally, you’re a man.”

  “How do I address you?”

  Mistress would have sufficed, but I was feeling emboldened by her prolonged eye contact. Her thick black hair was down and she flicked it behind her right ear. There was a pen behind her left.

  “Since we’ll be working together, how does Anais grab you?”

  It grabbed me quite a lot.

  “Whatever,” I said.

  First name terms with a colonel, an angel, albeit of death. Was I playing hard to get? I regretted it immediately.

  I looked at her purple strapped vest, barely visible under the lab coat but there were rosebuds embroidered along the edge. She noticed me undressing her but there was no retribution, only a warm smile. For a moment I felt we were the only two people in the room.

  “Let’s go to the cafeteria, and get to know each other a little better. After all, Valery 01, I want you to trust me,” said Anais.

  “Want or need?” I asked.

  “Want.”

  I followed her to the front of the queue, no one complained. I chose a salad, and Anais had sugary doughnuts, four.

  “I’m addicted,” she said. “I prefer chocolate though; I’m not really a vanilla girl.”

  She was still licking the sticky sugar off her fingers when I asked the obvious.

  “Why am I here?”

  She stirred more sugar into her tea.

  “An experiment.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “I doubt it, in fact, quite the opposite.”

  “Meaning?”

  “The High Command want to see if man can be a tamed beast. You’re going to get all the treated testosterone you can take.”

  I smiled, but would treated mean a treat for me or them?

  “We want the warrior back on the front lines, but not his appetite for sex, at least with women,” she said.

  “I thought the war was going well.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Of course, this is an experiment. So, regrettably, you might find certain feelings begin to rise up in you.”

  I knew what she meant, and I would have no regrets. I could assure her of that.

  “Then my cage needs removing,” I said.

  “Later, I just want you to settle in today. And tomorrow we go shopping.”

  “Why me?”

  “Honestly? I liked what I saw.”

  There was a pause between us, a silence by no means uncomfortable. Our eyes did the talking.

  “I must get another doughnut,” she said. “I’m addicted to sticky sweetness.”

  She clapped her hands, and two trannies came to collect me, only their Adam’s apples gave them away. One was dressed in a lime green skirt, blouse, and tights, and the other in pink. They were striking, and everyone was staring.

  Anais turned to me one last time and said, “There’s only one rule here: if anyone falls in love, they lose.”

  ‘Love,’ that was a word I hadn’t heard before, not between two people. Sure someone loved my hair, I loved my latest designer acquisition, but that was frivolous, emotionless.

  The pink tranny coughed, and I got the message. I followed them to my quarters and unpacked. I had been helping the war effort with my nail varnish, so my pay was pretty good. I’d invested wisely on clothes and luggage.

  I carefully placed tomorrow’s outfit on the door hanger. I wanted to make an impression, and chose my sparkling silver tights. They were warm evening wear, but they made my legs look fabulous. I added a blue pencil skirt with matching jacket. I’d choose the blouse when I awoke and according to my mood; I needed some unpredictability. No lipstick, but eyeliner was a must; she’d find me irresistible, even in flats.

  I had a long soak in the bath though it wasn’t as deep as the one back home, and tingled in my cage. My mind drifted to the pretty colonel, although it didn’t have far to go; I’d missed the depot or rather I hadn’t missed it. But the spikes in my chastity cage were reminding me of my disgusting flesh obsessed lust, and I headed for the soft flannelette sheets.

  Chapter Eleven

  “My, you are a picture,” said Anais at the breakfast table.

  “A pretty one?” I asked, unsure from her voice if she was delighted or disappointed.

  “I hadn’t imagined you were such a sissy, but of course why wouldn’t you be? Don’t worry, it’s all about to change.”

  “Sometimes I like being me. Does that disappoint you?”

  “No, nor does it surprise me. Ignorance can be bliss.”

  Something caught my eye.

  “Why are they wearing those?” I asked Anais.

  Three lab coats with golden silk thread were shimmering in the light, stealing the attention from my tights.

  “They’re the breakthrough team, game changers. I wish we had more like them.”

  I pulled up my tights and down on my skirt.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “The officers love your camouflage nail polish.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure, it’s the talk of the mess.”

  I smiled, and flicked my hair. It was difficult to explain, but I wanted to be soft and hard at the same time. Maybe I was a tranny?

  Anais finished her morning doughnut and announced, “Let’s go shopping.”

  I stood up, my back stiffened. I felt like a real man, in sparkling silver tights; this was as close to hunting as we got.

  Anais donned a pair of wraparound sunglasses from her top pocket, and I wanted to be wrapped around her too. Her eyes were now smoky like the lenses, and there was a smouldering fire behind them. I just needed a chance to light it.

  Two shemale escorts lagged behind.

  “In case you get lost,” said Anais.

  “Me go missing from a shopping trip, really?”

  She smiled, and I had a feeling we were connecting on more than just a professional level.

  “How many credits do I have?” I asked.

  “Five hundred.”

  I didn’t need the sunshine to cheer me up today, and the shemales could hold my bags.

  I was an exhibitionist, showing off to the trannies on the till as they removed the security tag from the mauve purple woollen handbag. Too many crossdressers were looking for a steal.

  A pair of knee high boots were on sale in my size. They were last year’s winter stock and reduced by 70%, but there was an old boot holding them. I pretended not to look, though she was measuring my interest out of the corner of her beady eye. Teasing me, she held them, put them back, and then picked them up again; never releasing them when I was close enough to swoop. Finally, she put them down and turned away, but as I stepped up to be counted, she reclaimed them. I was crestfallen as she waddled to the till, and it took the tartan long socks on special offer to lift my mood.

  We headed back to the custom made bulletproof government limo. Everyone looked tired, apart from me.

  “I’ll leave you alone to try on the outfits,” said Anais at the campus.

  I was disappointed; I thought this crossdresser had found a dresser. But it seemed only Steve 873 wanted to share my wardrobe secrets.

  “I hope there are no returns,” said Anais without looking at me, leaving. “We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  My bags were on the bed, my door closed. I hadn’t felt this excited in months and was determined nothing could ruin my mood. Then I saw a copy of The Daily Watch left by the cleaner in the kitchen next to the kettle. ‘No Man Safe,’ shouted the headline; Burdizzo had struck again.

  I sat on the sofa, bags unopened, tissue unwrapped; the only tissue touched was used to dab my eyes. On page three was advice for men; we were used to that but this could save your life. We should stay in groups when out, and not dress provocatively; this presumably meant no short skirts or tight trousers. Don’t accept lifts from strange women, and avoid high heels so you could run away. Late nights weren’t mentioned because we were already under curfew; lockdown was at 10 p.m. in the spring and summer and 8 p.m. in the autumn and winter.

  I was terrified to lose my scalp, and wanted to hide under the blankets. But was my fear, like my hair, conditioned? I needed to find the real me, the true man, with the colonel’s help. Then perhaps I could stop running and hiding.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I see you got my message,” said Anais, looking at my conservative clothes.

  I nodded, tongue-tied. Anais was stunning in her military dress that wasn’t a dress. Her legs were covered by tight cream trousers, a thick webbed belt wrapped around her hips, and a camouflage shirt was rolled up at the sleeves; perhaps it was homage to my breakthrough nail varnish. She wore a holster around her hourglass figure, and her bosom heaved with every breath. Her hair was in a bun, she wore dark glasses and boots. Her message to me was to dress down, and I was cloaked in my tracksuit, drab by comparison.

  I undressed behind a screen, butt naked but not shy. My itinerant shemales were nowhere to be seen, but were probably watching through the ceiling camera should there be any unforeseen developments.

  Anais turned her back, and ordered the three lab rats to uncage me. Maybe she couldn’t bear the thought of another woman that close to my naked body.

  After several unsuccessful attempts with a key, and much pain on my part as the burgeoning excitement pushed against its confines, the poor red faced students gave up.

  Long handled metal cutters appeared, and I quickly became as nervous as the girl holding them in her shaky hands. Fortunately, I wasn’t here for the chop, and I was released.

  My photo was taken for the benefit of science. I just hoped it wouldn’t make the cover of a magazine.

  “Ouch,” I howled. “You could at least have warned me.”

  One of the lab assistants had just pricked me in the bottom.

  “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d want it.”

  She held a ridiculously long needle in front of my face. She was right; it seemed too big to take.

  “Don’t worry the next one won’t be as bad,” said Anais.

  I wish I could see her eyes. I wanted to know if she’d enjoyed my pain, whether there was a game we could play between us.

  “There’ll be more?” I asked.

  “You do want to feel like a real man, don’t you, as opposed to feeling one?” she said, grinning. “It’s a new prescription for you to take. Let’s call it your second coming.”

  “What’s it called?” I didn’t care too much, I just wanted to keep her talking.

  “Tostestalone. It has a brother, testosterone; hopefully this one is better behaved.”

  “How long before the desired effect kicks in?”

  She shrugged her shoulders, but I already had my answer. I couldn’t take my eyes off her adorable, cute ass. Maybe the siblings were closer than expected.

  “Let’s start recording the data,” said Anais.

  I was sitting in a leather recliner with everything on show, and thankful it wasn’t a cold aluminium chair from the canteen; things tended to shrink in the cold, and the stifled giggles of the lab rats were pushing me pleasingly to the edge.

  My essential war equipment for invasion was measured and weighed. Later, tensile strength was tested. All data recorded.

  “Now how did that little monster ever get in its cage?” said Anais.

  Had she just said little? I was aghast. How many had she seen, whose were they, and did mine compare unfavourably? It didn’t look small from my view, and if I breathed in, well, it looked quite the opposite.

  Anais observed my consternation, my furrowed brow.

  “I do believe that’s bigger than expected,” she said, “and at such an early stage.”

  My arms were strapped into the chair and my wrists bound, but my smile could still embrace her.

  “Shall I give him another shot, Colonel?” asked the lab rat with the horn-rimmed glasses.

  She looked kind of nerdy, plump with plumper lips. But right now they were all sex bombs, though I was the one ready to explode.

  Anais nodded, and the needle came up through the gap in the chair. But she was right, I was feeling less pain. Hell, I was almost ready to scream, ‘Is that all you’ve got?’ I was angry and horny.

  My senses were overloaded, and their perfumes were like feathered gloves ready to knock me out. I could hear every tap of their heels like a symphony.

  Anais moved closer, our eyes locked. I felt her cheek brush against mine as she whispered in my ear, “Sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” I asked. I was having a ball.

  “Now let’s see how the little soldier responds to real pain,” said a lab rat, holding a sterilised needle. I was beginning to feel like a pin cushion.

  She prodded and poked, but I stood firm. Then she brought out its friend, a spiked cog on a roller, and proceeded to travel the shaft.

  Even the metal rod couldn’t dampen my ardour, as it slid further inside, up and down, back and forth.

  Anais had obviously seen enough, and clapped her hands.

  “OK that’s all for today,” she said.

  I sighed with relief.

  “We can start all over again tomorrow.”

  Damn these women.

  I was handed a magazine on the mummification rites of ancient Egypt, and ordered to read. Whilst I was deflated on page three, they slipped on a plastic cage, but it didn’t have spikes and was two sizes bigger.

  “I don’t want you to ruin anything,” said Anais, “and I don’t want to ruin you, just yet.”

  “Indeed not, my dear Colonel Anais Eve,” said the un-young scientist entering the room. His lab coat was rich with golden thread, and his swagger was as big as his name badge; I guessed he was important.

  “No need for formalities, my dear Professor,” said Anais.

  He looked at me, as if down the barrel of a gun and I was in his sights. Someone handed me my clothes, and I quickly slipped them on.

  “Allow me to introduce myself, Valery 01. Professor Cygnus Caveat. I’ve been watching your progress for quite some time.”

  I was still staring at his name badge.

  “That’s right, I have no number,” he said.

  His hair was thin, grey, and his face covered in craggy lines. He should have moisturised years ago.

  “I helped Vespertina back in the day,” he said, smiling like a fairy godfather.

  I’m sure he wasn’t the only turnpetticoat, but what did he do now?

  He clicked his fingers, and a book of calculations was placed in his hand.

  “Impressive, but haven’t you forgotten something?”

  The lab rat looked at her notes, turning bright red before stammering, “Circumference.”

  “That’s right,” said the prof, “thickness counts too, my dear. I should know,” and he winked at the girl, causing her further embarrassment.

  “I’m on Lusterone,” she said, trying to compose herself.

  “My first breakthrough,” said the prof. “Lucky you.”

  “Oh, how ill mannered,” he returned his attention to me. “I’m ignoring our guest. Well keep it up, Valery 01, so to speak. Splendid job, no really, splendid. Oh and your name, doesn’t really fit anymore, does it? Now you’re Valiant 01, got it?”

  “Got it,” I replied with my chest puffed out.

  “You’ll need a razor from now on,” he said, “for your face.”

  I stroked my chin; I was bristling with excitement.

  “Where from?” I asked.

  Too late, he was gone. Anais wiped her brow.

  “You should know, Valery, sorry Valiant 01, the Professor advised I choose you for this experiment,” said Anais.

  “Why? How?”

  “Data, of course. He can access anyone’s personal database.”

  “But ...”

  She placed her finger to my lips, and I wanted to kiss hers.

  “Don’t ask too many questions, not yet,” she said.

  I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I just wondered if her body wanted mine just as much. But even before she clapped her hands I could hear the heels of my guardian shemales approaching. How was I supposed to sleep tonight? I couldn’t get her out of my head.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I was staring at the night sky, wondering if I was moon-struck or love-struck. Certainly something felt different, but I still wasn’t sure what I wanted; I had no experience. I was convinced Anais would fall into my arms at some point, but when and could I wait? I tried on my new clothes out of loneliness, boredom.

  I opened a packet of tartan socks, crisscrossed purple and red. Brand new and laddered, but I wouldn’t be taking them back. I reached for my sewing kit, and saw the token. Quickly I laced up the vintage gothic boots. Torn hosiery had a desperate appeal, and I was feeling pretty desperate.

 

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