Chapter 21 - Trixie takes Paris out

Needless to say, I left my first gender therapy meeting with prescriptions for gender-affirming hormone therapy. Feminizing hormones. As if the hormones weren’t bad enough, Suzy set up weekly lab appointments to monitor the levels in my blood. If I retained too much testosterone or gained too little estrogen and progesterone, she’d change the doses. In other words, I couldn’t NOT take the hormones or even take a reduced amount. More worrying though was the fact that Suzy was comfortable starting me on a larger than normal dose as I was ‘further along’ in my transition than most women when they start hormone therapy.

The doctor I picked the prescriptions up from described the options I had from patches to pills to injections. As I couldn’t decide, he gave me all three and said I could take any of them, but to only take one at a time.

On the train home I decide to just get the prescriptions over with and set up the mail in pharmacy app on my phone. Once it’s set up and I log in, I see that it already has the prescriptions and is asking for an address to send them to. I put in the apartment address and hit enter just as Grace texts, asking about dinner. I flip over to the messaging app and let her know that I’ll be there soon and to just order something in. When I go back to the pharmacy app, I see that it evidently didn’t take the address as it’s asking for it again. To make sure it goes through, thinking it may be tied to work, I put in the office address. Not wanting my GAHT to end up in the general mail delivery, I specifically put Mr. Orpheus’ office knowing that I accept all deliveries for him.

When I hit enter though, it pops back up and asks for the address again. With my stop approaching quickly, I try putting in the apartment address again, but this time use Grace’s name. For whatever reason, it goes through just fine and says they’ll be sent out tomorrow.

As soon as I walk into the apartment Grace hits me up on these new diet pills, she found. It was a combination of three pills taken throughout the day, but it was supposed to work miracles. I’d complained about fitting into the faja and so far, her best idea was starving me with salads whenever she could, so I liked the idea of taking something that might take away the hunger pangs. I told her I was on board, and she even went so far as to say she’d leave the pills out for me every morning so that I had one less thing to manage.

After dinner I sit in the living room with Grace in my robe and slippers and tell her about my appointment with Suzy. I let her know how difficult it is to talk with the gender therapist as I feel that I have to be on guard all the time. How being feminine at work is one thing. How being feminine at home now was worse but having to now act out three times a week with a counselor that I actually want to be this way, that I want to be MORE feminine, is maddening.

I notice Grace is especially quiet as I talk. I almost mention it, but it’s actually nice to be able to just unload. To not be on guard and watch what I have to say. I even get the opportunity to complain about how everything is building up together and starting to get under my skin. That sometimes it’s not just feeling like I’m acting feminine, but that I’m actually BEING feminine. When I talk about the hormones, I dive into my fears, how I wonder what it’s going to do with breast growth. I cup and hold my own large glued on breasts as I talk, mentioning how these already are maddening as I can feel them and they feel… good. And how I’m becoming more and more aroused and know that I won’t have my normal relief valve as it’s not like I can date like this.

When I see Grace looking at me, an arousal in her own eyes, I laugh and keep going, “Well, there is Trixie. I told you that she found what Mr. Stirling put in my HR record, that I was transitioning. Well, I guess that turns her on. We’re going out this weekend and while I know it’s less than honest, I think I’m going to play into it. I mean, it might be the only action I get with a woman, you know?”

I almost expect Grace to put up a fuss about lying to a coworker and ‘fellow’ woman, but she just hums her approval and says that she’s really tired before rushing off to bed. I shrug it off and head to bed myself, surprised that it’s so early. I can’t remember the last time that Grace went to bed before ten o’clock.

When I get home the next day, I find that the hormones had been delivered. I thought I’d signed up for the pills, but evidently, I was wrong as they delivered the injectables. After looking over the instructions I see that it’s fairly simple to do the three daily injections so instead of trying to fix it and change to the pills, I line up the injections and set an alarm to remind myself to take them each morning.

My next meeting with Suzy is a little more relaxed. We talk quite a bit about work and I’m able to be more comfortable as it’s the one area where I AM being feminine all the time and trying to present myself that way. I talk about the relationships with Jennifer, Claire, and Margeret and how they’ve gotten better recently. I talk about Frank and Thomas and how they’re constantly hitting on me, though I gloss over how I hate it and change it to feeling more feminine and appreciated when they treat me that way. Suzy seems to like that, so I add similar details about Mal, completely avoiding the fact that I was trying to **** him or that I’m refusing him the ability to harass me that way any longer. I talk about going out on a date with Trixie, but part way through realize I shouldn’t talk about going out with a woman as it might contradict what I said before. Instead, I just switch Trixie’s name with Darnell’s, leaving everything else the same. That HE found out about me transitioning, that HE thought it was attractive, and that HE asked me out and hinted at it being more than just a casual talk.

Suzy agrees to fill out the paperwork for me and even makes it easy by emailing it directly to Mr. Stirling so that I don’t have to bother stopping by just to drop it off for him. We then talk about home life where I can again be honest, talking about my platonic relationship with Grace.

When we’re almost done for the day Suzy goes over a lot of what we talked about and says that we have a lot to work on. That she sees there’s some underlying doubt about my transition that I’m struggling with and that she’ll help me work through that. She mentions that for our insurance to continue to pay for everything in regards to the gender affirming therapy, including these counseling sessions, the hormones, and any other treatments she or the other doctors prescribe, that we have to meet certain milestones. She saw that I looked worried but evidently didn’t know I was worried about having to meet any milestones in feminizing myself further. Instead, she re-assured me that no one at the company or anyone I didn’t want to tell directly would have to know about the milestones or my progress toward them. She’d only report to the insurance company if I’d met the plan we set.

Ultimately, that goal would be complete gender affirming surgery. Gender re-assignment. Removal of my penis, and change to a vagina. It can include much more, but that last bit is the end goal. Thankfully, while we didn’t set up any particular milestones, Suzy said that we might target two years for that goal. Maybe even three. That was a huge relief as that was hopefully long after I was done with this whole ruse.

When I asked about what some of the steps or milestones would be, Suzy just said that she had some more assessing to do, and we’d talk more about it next week. I got extra relief when she said we didn’t have to meet three times a week and instead could meet just twice a week.

Our last topic of conversation was health. Suzy asked how the hormones were going and if I were noticing any side effects. When I told her it was going fine, she just mentioned that I might notice some mood swings early on. I should also look out for the physical changes like fewer erections, smaller testicles, less or more interest in sex, hair changes, skin changes, less muscle mass, more body fat and of course breast development, but that these physical changes shouldn’t occur quickly.

We talk about things I can do to help mitigate bad side effects like blood clots as well as heart and cholesterol problems and I talk about my smoking. She mentions that there is a new patch that can help but believes the best result while on GAHT is to quit cold turkey. She says to give it a try while she discusses the new patch with her medical team.

The weekend couldn’t get here fast enough. Everything seemed to be slipping into a routine which was both good and bad. I was catching Grace looking at me more and more often. She tried to say she was just checking if the diet pills were working but even I knew they shouldn’t take effect that fast. At work, Mal was still back and forth but for the most part let me go on my own path. When he told me that some medicated patches showed up for me, I happily mentioned that they must be from my gender counselor, figuring they were the new nicotine patches.

Since the prescription was going to evidently be delivered to the office, I asked if Mal could keep them in his office as they’d be more secure than in my desk. I’d just get one each morning and put it on before he came in. In the first sign of kindness, Mr. Orpheus said he’d be happy to help and would even leave a patch out daily on his desk for me so that I wouldn’t have to go searching for them.

At the end of the day on Friday I meet Trixie in the lobby of the building. It’s not quite spring in the city yet but it’s certainly warmer and we walk for several blocks just enjoying each other’s company. I can’t help but notice that we get far more looks than I normally do and I imagine it’s more than even Trixie normally gets. It’s like our attractive powers have combined and increased more than the addition of our individual components. When we get to a bar that I’ve never heard of before and step in I immediately recognize why it would have never been on my radar. I’ve heard of gay bars and have frequented them before as they often have a good time. I’d assumed there were more specialty lesbian bars as well that just hadn’t entered my radar. But this… this bar was full of curvy, sexy, ultra feminine women just like Trixie and me.

We were evidently in a lipstick lesbian bar.

The hostess, a drop dead gorgeous little redhead, led Trixie and I over to a semi-circular booth with tall walls giving us a quiet sense of privacy. I couldn’t help but notice there was even a curtain we could pull for even more aloneness. Once I’m in the booth, Trixie scoots right next to me. Even with the limited view of all the other women, I knew we were surrounded in a sea of femininity. Having Trixie practically pour herself over me and seeing my own bright red nails on my delicate hands laid out on the table reminding me of my own femininity gets the blood flowing in the figurative and quite literal senses both. Even with the gaffe holding me tight I find it uncomfortable to be sitting and find myself tilting, leaning, to take some of my weight off down there. Which of course leans me right into Trixie.

I’d had half a dozen men in the office put their hands on me, with Mal, Frank, and Thomas going even further and actually feeling me up. But none were as bold as Trixie currently was, with her hands wandering over my body and her lips finding that magical spot on my neck that just made me feel like I could melt into a puddle. I don’t even have to participate as Trixie just takes control.

After a moment I open my eyes and see our waitress smiling down at Trixie and me. She doesn’t seem to mind at all that I now know she’s staring at us. With gentle **** I push Trixie away mumbling, “oh, hey, we, uh… Trix, we…”

Trixie give me a final kiss on my cheek before turning to the waitress without moving away from me in the least, “Hiya! It’s our first date. Umm… can we, like, get a bottle of wine please? A good Sauvignon Blanc or a Pinot Grigio?”

The waitress nods and walks off, her smile never fading a bit. Trixie, with her arm now around my shoulders rubs her hand up and down my bare arm. “I’m sorry if I’m, like, coming on a little strong Paris, but… like… you’ve always turned me on. And finding out that you’re, you know, like, special, that’s just turned it up to like three thousand!”

She leans in for another kiss attack on my neck and I find my ability to speak taken away again as my whole body tingles in response. When the waitress drops off our bottle and pours us each a glass, Trixie again disengages from kissing my neck and ear but doesn’t move away from draping herself over me.

Trixie hands me one of the glasses and takes a drink herself and I realize this is the strangest culmination of a dream or nightmare I’d had. When Frank and Thomas started hitting on me particularly hard weeks ago, I had a dream of being out on a date with them each. They were next to me, arm around me, holding me tight, and kissing me all over, leaving me powerless to stop them. This feels like that, except it’s Trixie instead of Thomas or Frank. A girl no bigger than me, with bigger breasts than mine, is owning me physically.

Her girly giggle breaks my thoughts and brings me back to the now, “Hey girl, Like, sorry again if I’m coming on too strong. I know you’re used to men and are probably a little freaked out at a woman making out with you, but… you’re, like, okay with this, right?”