John paced in his high-heeled boots. He despised their click-clack on the marble floor. The sound seemed like a mocking reminder of his predicament, second only to the bra holding his tits in place and the now-familiar taste of lipstick.
“I can’t believe this,” John muttered under his breath. “My life is ruined.”
Jason Vels, dressed in a dark suit, a white shirt, and a red tie, stood before him. “It’s not ruined, Johnny. We still have options. I admit things in the courtroom didn’t go as I planned, but—”
John stomped towards his lawyer. He was trying to look intimidating but instead looked more like a petulant child. “It’s all your fault. You’re the moron who insisted on me wearing a skirt and heels to the trial. And then you let them humiliate me! They convinced the jurors that I wanted to be a girl! Now nobody is going to jail.”
Vels tried to remain calm. “Look, there’s no use crying over spilled milk, and what matters now is that we get the best civil settlement possible. Let’s focus on that, okay?”
John looked at his lawyer with contempt. “That ‘spilled milk’ is my manhood, Jason! My pride! I’m a real man, damn it! I—I can’t stand being treated like a girl. How am I supposed to face people again?”
Vels walked to the window overlooking the city. The lights sparkled in the night. “Well, Johnny, the time has come to be straight with you. I know your hormones are all over the place, but I need you to stop being hysterical—”
“Fuck you!”
Vels sighed and placed his hands on John’s narrow shoulders. “Listen to me, Mr. Farrar is a very wealthy man, and he could drag out the civil case for years and years. And, well, right now, you’re bleeding money. So you need to listen to me. Now. Okay?”
John stared at his lawyer. His eyes darted around the room. “What do you mean, bleeding money? I don’t understand. I still have my investments.”
Vels nodded. “Yes, yes. But the way Mr. Farrar has played this, everyone thinks you’re a crazy tranny who made up this story about one of Manhattan’s most prominent men. Mr. Farrar is evening saying he might countersue.”
John felt sick. “B-But he did this to me!” John cupped his breasts. They were heavy and hot, and he wanted desperately to rip them off his chest.
“You’ve got to admit it looks bad. People are calling you a liar, a crazy bitch, a fraud. The Post is having a field day. Your credibility is shot, and you’re losing investors left and right. You need to make a deal with Warren Farrar.”
John narrowed his mascara-lined eyes. “A deal? Like what?”
Vels sighed. “Warren wants you to, uh... Well, there’s no easy way to say this. He wants you to become his wife. Apparently, he didn’t expect the hormones to have such a dramatic effect, but he’s quite, um...pleased by the result.”
John felt his knees weaken. “Become his wife? I can’t be a wife! I’m a man! I’d rather die.”
“I know, Johnny. I’d feel the same way. And, anyway, it gets worse.”
“How could it get any fucking worse?”
Vels took a deep breath. “Well, Warren says that while he thinks you’re gorgeous, you wouldn’t be able to keep your dick. He’d want you to have a sex-change. You’d have to become a woman in every way.”
“No! This is insane. I’ll never give up my manhood. Never.”
Vels smiled sadly. “Johnny, just think it over, okay? Take some time. Either way, I’ll be here for you.”
John turned away from his lawyer and walked back to the window. He looked down at the street below, trying to ignore the sight of his cleavage. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Vels approached his client. “John, please. Think about it. It’s better than being sued into oblivion. At least you’d have money.”
“And no dick!” John exclaimed.
“I know this is hard. But you’re young, and you have a whole life ahead of you. Warren will probably only live another twenty years or so. And you have so much potential.”
“Potential to be a woman,” John said bitterly. “Get out, Jason. I—I just want to be alone.”
Vels turned and left the penthouse. John sat alone in his high heels, staring at the floor. His eyes welled up with hot tears as he reflected on how much money he’d lost, how humiliated he’d been, and how his reputation had been destroyed. Did he really have a future as a man? Or would he forever be known as a lying tranny?
He stood and removed his shoes. He pulled his skirt up over his hips. Sheer black stockings were tied around his waist, and a garter belt held up the sheer, lace panties.
John trembled. There was something erotic about seeing a woman’s body from this angle, even if that woman was him.
John’s fingers traced the curve of his breasts. They were full and heavy. He ran his hands down his stomach, feeling the softness of his skin. John reached under his panties and found his cock, small and flaccid. He cautiously peeled off his panties, revealing his tiny penis. John touched himself, enjoying the sensation. Closing his eyes, he imagined what it would be like to have a vagina.
He moaned softly. When he understood what he was doing, he whimpered in horror. “No! I’m a man. I’m...a man.”