Chapter 54 – Appt with Suzy

Sitting down across from Suzy, I cross my legs, sigh, and smile. Looking back on it now, the trip here wasn’t bad. Sure, I got a lot of stares, but I always got a lot of stares. The difference now is that they’re staring at me. The men and women doing the staring don’t know the difference, don’t know that they were staring at body shapers and fake glued on breasts before, they were always just looking at an attractive woman. But to me, the difference is sharp. They were staring at and drooling over a falsehood before. A fake. A disguise. Now, they’re staring at my breasts. At my curves. They’re staring at ME.

Suzy takes several long moments to look over my body. She’s one of the only people that doesn’t have to hide the fact that she’s judging me. Judging just how feminine I am. Judging how comfortable I am in my own skin. Judging the workmanship of the cosmetic surgeons on my face and breasts and waist. When she’s satisfied, she jots down some notes then asks me to catch her up on what I’ve been doing since her last visit.

I look down at my hands draped over my knee and explain my last week, “Well, you were right. Grace is still fascinated with my breasts, but she’s moved on past them. When she took me to her bed the other night, she tied me up on my back, but this time with my legs spread wide. It was, it was, yeah, it was a new kind of exposed. She licked and nibbled on my nipples for a good five minutes before moving down to…” I swallow hard, hearing that click in my throat, knowing that Suzy really wants me to dive into an ownership of my prosthetic “…to my pussy. She really spent a lot of time down there and had me squirming and moaning and just melting into a wet puddle. She later told me that the flavor of the lubricant from my pussy… I’m sorry, I mean… she told me that the flavor of my pussy juices is a little artificial but close enough. She calls it le goût de Paris. The taste of Paris. Anyway, she’s still learning just how sensitive I am down there and almost took me over the edge before she wanted to. Eventually she laid on top of me, letting me lick at her pussy while she just teased at mine. I got her off… um… three times? Yeah, three times before she got me off. That time though she didn’t use her fingers at all, just her tongue.”

I shift a bit nervously in my seat and look back up at Suzy as she’s just calmly jotting down more notes as if we’re talking about the recipe for biscuits or strawberry pie. When she looks back up at me, she goes on just as calmly, even though the conversation topic is anything other than an everyday talking point, “So she’s just as dominant in bed as before but now focusing more on you. On your breasts and other pleasure centers where before she left you completely in denial. How does that make you feel Paris?”

Everything is always reflected back to me, which I suppose is the whole purpose of therapy, but it makes it difficult to talk off the cuff and honestly. I guess it’s not so bad that I pause as it makes me look hesitant, shy. In reality I’m looking at everything through the lens of making Suzy believe “I want to be female!” but tempering it with “I’m not ready to finish the job just yet” so that Suzy stays on board AND doesn’t recommend the last surgeries. Part of playing that part is remembering that Suzy seems most happy when I’m trying to be a ‘heterosexual woman’ and moving away from being a ‘heterosexual man’. So being with women is bad. At the same time, I have to balance my Grace relationship because Suzy likes me in the more submissive role. Or rather she thinks that I believe real women are in the more submissive role so I should mimic and BE in that submissive role myself. After I let all that churn through my head, I decide to lean into the submissive nature of our relationship and focus less on the sex.

With a nod, as if getting my thoughts together for the first time, I say, “Yeah, she’s really on top of me. I mean… well, yeah, on TOP of me, but I mean she’s in control and it feels so good to just let go and be there for her. It’s like having a husband. I get why she didn’t focus on my, um, pleasure before. I wasn’t woman enough for her. My feminine nature and girly looks attracted her, but it was like false advertising. But now that, um, my body matches closer to what I really am, and um, with the prosthetic’s help, she can see me. The female me. It’s kinda weird having her please me like that, but it fits into that sub space I get into with her. She tells me what to do without words, and I do it. So, if she wants to lick me there and make me, um, squirm, then, um, yeah, it’s good.”

Suzy’s pen never seems to stop moving as she just nods once and says, “How else does she make you feel like a woman Paris?”

I puff up a bit as this part is really true, and I can lean into it. “Well, it’s like we talked about before. I’m her housewife. I’m in that role that I saw my Mom as. Whether she gets home before me or not, I focus my attention on her. Cook for her, clean for her, make sure she’s relaxed and comfortable. During my recovery, she took care of me though. Kind of like my Dad took care of my Mom when she was sick. She doted on me but at the same time she didn’t let me just be lazy. She made sure I got up and did my exercises. She made sure I was ready for all of my appointments. She made sure I made myself as pretty as I could get for guests when they came over. That’s Mal and Trixie mostly, but there were others from the office that stopped by. Dr. Gold even stopped by for some house calls even though he wasn’t in the surgeries.”

None of these are lies or exaggerations. Grace really did make me get dressed anytime anybody came over. I think everybody would have understood if they saw me in loose fitting clothes while I was still wrapped up in bandages, but Grace wanted me pretty. Those tight shorts that showed off my ass even while my legs were black and blue and that sports bra that held my new girls in and showed off my bruised abdomen. And as soon as Dr. Montgomery said it was okay for me to wear some makeup, I had to do my hair and makeup for guests too. Stephen was blown away when he saw me. It was so weird seeing him drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

As I think back on it, I’m not sure I would have expected anything less from Stephen. I know I shouldn’t push blame on anybody. I’m the one that ultimately did this. Not Mrs. Birdie, not Grace, not Mal, not Trixie, not Mr. Stirling, not Suzy, not Dr. Montgomery, and certainly not Stephen. Me. But Stephen would have distinctly prevented it from happening and his absence is one of the many reasons it went through. We both cried over what happened and I did get to yell for a bit just to get it off my chest, but eventually I calmed down. He was so sweet, offering to reverse it all at his own expense, which he certainly couldn’t afford, offering to plead guilty if I went to court, and even admit to the insurance people that he was at fault if I said it was a mistake. But even if I wasn’t painted in this curvy feminine corner by Mr. Stirling and Mal, I wouldn’t throw my friend to the wolves. We eventually hugged it out and he took over for Dr. Montgomery as my primary after care professional. Even with all their advanced healing techniques, which have worked wonders, I have various appointments scheduled with him for follow ups going into next year. Per Stephen, under normal circumstances I’d need between four and six months for healing and recovery considering just how much they did at once. But because they did it all so well, I’m almost as good as new after just two months.

I refocus on Suzy, knowing that she just asked something and realizing that I didn’t hear it. She notices my absentmindedness, but thankfully doesn’t seem to mind and repeats herself, “Tell me about Mal coming to visit. How did that go? And how did he make you feel?”

I swallow hard again, knowing that nothing seems to make Suzy happier than hearing about Mal and me together. Some combination of a female secretary working for her male executive boss and me telling her about the sexual escapades between us while leaving out the **** aspects, makes her believe that Mal is my dream beau. That I truly want him. She’s even had me sit and contemplate if I’d want to jeopardize his marriage. So, just like I had to walk a tight line when I talked about wanting to be female, I had to walk another tight line when talking about Mal. Fan the flame of me falling for him and bend all the **** aspects into either acts of domination and submission or simply acts of willing passion.

I **** myself to smile, “He was so sweet. I told you about the flowers of course. Before I even got released, he’d sent flowers to the apartment, so they’d be there waiting for me. He sent another bouquet the day I got home and then another a few days later. When he finally visited, he brought more flowers and a box of candies. Those are the ones that he feeds to me on every visit.”

And he does feed them to me. I tried to explain that with the lap band I just couldn’t eat all that much, but he refused to believe it. When I stopped picking at the candy, he pulled out a piece and held it out for me. He wouldn’t let me take it from him and insisted I open my mouth for him to place it on my tongue. That would be creepy enough, but he’d leave his fingers there so I’d have to close my lips around them and suck on them while he pulled them out. I’m sure to him it looks sexy as all get out, especially with my new puffy pouty lips, but to me it’s just a reminder that I can’t say no to him, even in my own apartment.

“So, when he came back this last time it wasn’t any surprise that he brought more flowers. I swear, my whole apartment smells like a florist’s shop now. Anyway, he pulled me onto his lap like he’d do in his apartment on our dates, but he was gentle. As he fed me the candies and I relaxed, Grace let it slip that my prosthetic lets me feel pleasure. He was so excited about that and told me that as soon as I was healed up, he’d make a very special date night for me and get me off as many times as I could take.”

My shiver is genuine, though while it’s actually in terror of that future date, I hope Suzy takes it as excitement. Mal’s actual words were “I’m going to make you scream my name all night long” but my way at least sounded somewhat romantic. I tried to tell him that I hadn’t wanted this kind of prosthetic, but he treated that statement the same way he did when I told him the surgeries were all a mistake. He laughed it off. He really took my verbal scolding to heart, thinking that I was demanding he approve all of these surgeries. There’s no convincing him that I didn’t want all of this femininity. So, when I bring up the magic new pussy between my legs, it’s the same thing. He thinks I wanted it so that I could get more pleasure from sex. And as he sees himself as magnanimous, he’s going to be there to give me that pleasure. Whether I ‘act like’ I want it or not.

Suzy nods, glances at the clock, then asks, “One last thing, how about Trixie. How did her visits go?”

If I have to pussy foot around liking being with Grace and continually lie about sexually being with Trixie by changing her name and making it sound like I’m sleeping with Darnell, I most certainly cannot tell her about how Grace and Trixie tied down to ‘celebrate’ my new body. I must have licked them off to their own orgasms half a dozen times each while they kept testing my sensitivity and how close to the edge they could keep me. I may have only had one orgasm but just being with two women at once made it the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had.

Still, I can’t keep myself from smiling widely at that memory even as I focus on the more normal aspects of Trixie’s visits, “Oh she’s been great. A real friend. She keeps me up with all the gossip in the office. She tells me that Darnell is still seeing his girlfriend but is excited to go out with me once I’m healed up. She tells me that Mal’s temp is working out decently. And she’s just mothering me, taking up the slack that Grace or Mal miss. Like every time she comes over, she brings some chicken soup or ginger cookies or fresh salads. I mean, she doesn’t make them or anything. She can’t cook worth a damn! But she’s still thoughtful in bringing me tasty food and making sure I eat without trying to guilt me into eating more than I can.

Suzy nods, seemingly happy, jots down some final notes, and closes her little notebook. As she sits up straight, she looks me in the eye and finishes our session with, “I’m happy to hear that you’re recovering well Paris. It’s a big step to go through this kind of transformation and I think it speaks volumes that you aren’t having as many problems as some do with it. As long as we’re making good progress, I want to keep that momentum going though. I’m sure both Mal and Darnell will want to play with your new means to pleasure, I’d like you to start focusing more on masculine pleasure. Both of the men in your life sound like giving partners and they’ll give you pleasure but focus on using your new body to give them pleasure. You’ve talked about how you and Darnell focus on orally pleasuring each other, maybe try to incorporate that with Mal. At the same time, try to back away from pleasure received from Grace. You don’t have to eliminate it, but I believe that reducing your feminine led pleasure will help you transition more into the feminine role yourself. Tell her about our conversation and see where she’d like to go with it. That’s it for today, I’ll see you next week!”

I somehow keep the pleasant look on my face while I play over what she just said in my head. It’s just great, she wants me to have less sex with Grace and to start giving head to Mal.