The loudspeaker in the Mess Hall. “Malachite, please report to the Colonel at 09.00.”

“No peace for the wicked, it seems.” Malachite said with a smile to a group of her sisters who were sharing breakfast together.

Dressed in a clean uniform, the Colour Sergeant was ushered into the Colonel’s office at precisely 09:00.

The Colonel, waved the senior NCO to a chair, avoiding the formalities.

“I have a little job for you.” she said.

Malachite sat up a bit straighter.

I have received a report from a psychologist at the Glasshouse, the Military Corrective Training Centre (MCTC) in Colchester.

“A resident there is nearing the end of his six months sentence for propositioning a fellow marine, and has had a previous conviction for assault which also meant a six months sentence.”

“How is that relevant to us?”

“In the normal course of events, he will be given a dishonourable discharge when he has finished his sentence.”

“I have his service record here. He is an exemplary soldier under normal circumstances, his Commando selection test was in the top cohort, and his service to date has been very good except for these two major in incidents that mar an otherwise unblemished service record. Both these incidents followed another marine questioning his gender identity. Before applying for Commando training he was in the REME (Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers) for three years which is where you come in.”

“He is a minor son of a titled family and is called Tristram Rand-Yates. He knows how to behave at Royal Ascot, and at the Henley Regatta as well as balls and posh dinners and got a double first in Japanese and Mandarin at Birkbeck University in London.”

“After these various incidents. he has largely lost contact with his family. He has no relationships and no children.”

“I would like you to travel to Colchester today and interview Tristram before he is released. The psychology report concludes that there are some gender issues that need to be resolved, but it has also suggested that he is a very good candidate to join 48th Commando. The alternative is a life of uncertainty, unrepressed anger and possibly family shame.”

“If you are convinced that he is a suitable candidate for us, then you are authorised to have him released to your custody and to come back here for formal interview and processing once we are satisfied with what he has to offer.”

“Very well, Ma’m. I will catch the 10:30 train to London.”

“I will get my driver to take you to the station. It will be quicker than getting a taxi. My secretary has your train tickets to Colchester. The Glasshouse knows you are coming. You will not have time to get back here tonight so you are booked into a hotel in Colchester for the night, and then will pick up Mr Rand-Yates tomorrow morning to travel back here. If you are unconvinced about his suitability then you say nothing and he will be discharged from service at the end of his sentence. If we are unconvinced, then he can be discharged from here. If we are all convinced, then we have a new recruit. I think he may become Jet Smith. An improvement on Tristram Rand-Yates I think you will agree.”

“I hope you will not mind me leaving now, M’am. I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Yes, of course. I would appreciate a phone call this evening to say what the plan is after your visit. You know my mobile number?”

“Yes, M’am.”

Malachite walked briskly to her room and threw a change of clothes, her phone, and various night things and accessories into a holdall. The driver and his car were waiting and within minutes Malachite was at the station in good time to catch the train. Her uniform with its green beret did cause some notice, but no one spoke to her either on the station or on the train.

Four and a half hours later Malachite arrived at Colchester and got a cab to take her to the Military prison a couple of miles out of the city. Various documents were presented at the guard house before she was ushered into a room with the psychologist who had written the original report on marine Rand-Yates.

“Thankyou for coming, Colour Sergeant. I feel that we haven’t done as much for this young man as we ought to have done, but he is very resistant to the help we can offer here. I think he will flourish if he is found the right situation. He has all the credentials to be a very good addition to the Commandos if the right environment can be provided.”

“I am quite prepared to be in the interview room with you if that is what you would like to happen, but I know that the 48th Commando is surrounded by secrecy and you may, of course interview Tristram on your own.”

“I think I had better interview him on my own. There are a number of rather invasive questions that I need to ask and I will have to ask his permission for them to be asked. If he chooses not to answer then he will complete his sentence here.”

“I will point out the panic button in the room.”

“That will not be necessary. We are trained to deal with assaults. He will be subdued in just a few seconds if there is anything worrying.”

Malachite was ushered into an interview room which was all bright strip lighting and steel tables covered by Formica with plastic chairs.

“This isn’t suitable. I need somewhere more comfortable. Don’t you have a suite with easy chairs?”

“Yes, we do have the room for group discussions. It is only used in the morning so it will be available now.”

When Malachite had served herself a coffee from the dispenser in the Discussion Suite, the psychiatrist phoned through for the prisoner to be brought to the discussion suite.

Some ten minutes later Tristram Rand-Yates was brought to the suite. He was a slight man with pale blue eyes and a mop of blond hair over a round face with a rosy complexion. He stood hunched over with a dull expression. His standard uniform was at least clean, but showed little sign of any care.

Malachite waved the guard away to wait outside the room.

“Don’t you think I could overpower you?” was his opening gambit.

“I doubt it very much.” was Malachite’s reply. “I could have you immobilised inside ten seconds.”

“You are only a woman, how come.”

“I am a member of the 48th Commando. Being able to subdue or even kill dangerous men goes with the territory.”

“Please sit down, Tristram.”

“Shouldn’t you be calling me Private Rand-Yates?”

“I have come a long way to interview you, Tristram. I don’t waste my time. This interview will deal with your future in the armed forces. I will ask the questions, and you will agree to answer them. If you decline, then I will leave and you will have a dishonourable discharge at the conclusion of your sentence in a few days time. If you answer them, then there is a chance for you in the Marines.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude. I have been told that you have come a long way to see me. I am very uncertain about why you are here or what you can do, but please go ahead.”

“You are the fifth son of an hereditary peer, a baronet who owns a large country house and estate in the not too far from here. How is it that you enlisted in the Marines from University?”

“As you have said, I am the fifth son. My parents only had one daughter who died when I was eight. As with the old story, the first son gets the title and the land, the second son goes into his father’s regiment as an officer, the third son goes into the Church as a priest, and by the time you get to the fifth son there isn’t much left of an inheritance. My parents have both died since I enlisted, and after my two spells here, the rest of the family has learned to ignore me.”

“You were very successful at University. Didn’t going into some sort of International Trade appeal to you? Even without an inheritance there are ways into the business world.”

“The buzz of University was an end in itself. I was rather flat after I graduated. There was no money for post-graduate study so I thought a life of excitement might suit me and enlisting in the Army seemed as if it was a way to get some excitement. It wasn’t. The selection procedure was a challenge and I enjoyed the temporary feeling of success it gave me. Then the work for REME became routine and I became progressively bored. There were adverts at the time asking for recruits for the Royal Marines. It seemed as if it might be more interesting there so I applied. and was successful. I had always looked after myself and the selection procedure once again gave me a buzz, but boarding ship after ship to search for contraband or illegal immigrants was also fairly boring after a while.”

“How did you get involved with the two incidents that brought you here?”

“I have never been a large or muscular man. I can almost appear female if looked at under a certain light and I got various nicknames that referred to my gender. I didn’t mind that too much, but one marine admitted to me that he was gay, and suggested that we might have a bit of a relationship. I didn’t want that, and told him so in rather strong terms. He immediately turned on me and reported me for being the one to initiate the supposed relationship. It was my word against his, and he was a normal muscular Commando type who had never shown any gay tendencies. Everyone looked at me and thought that I was gay anyway, so no one believed me and I have had six months to think about the error of my ways here. My eldest brother visited me once to say that I had brought dishonour onto the family and no one would visit me again, and I was no longer to visit the family home at festivals like Christmas.”

“The first conviction was when a fellow Marine abused me in a barracks where he called me all sort of names. I hit him once and broke his nose. The rest of the platoon swore that I had hit the man without provocation so here I am.”

“I am going to assume that you are telling the truth. I don’t have the facilities here to check if that , so we will leave that line of questioning for now.”

“I know that your slight build and fine features can make you appear feminine. The next line of questioning may seem irrelevant and maybe impertinent, but if you give honest answers that fit my reasons for being here, then they will make sense.”

“I know you have visited Society events in the past like Royal Ascot and Henley Regatta in the past. What do you feel about the people who attend?”

“They are the people I grew up with. We attended the same schools and I knew many through my University days. In many cases marriages are formed during these events of the London ‘Season’.”

“How do you view the ways that the attendees are dressed at these events?”

“I enjoyed the dressing up, but there is little variety in the men’s clothes. A coloured bow tie, or a coloured cummerbund is all, apart from it either being ‘black tie’. or ‘white tie’. I know some foreigners go in for coloured ‘tuxes’ but it was never acceptable in London.”

“What about the women’s clothes?”

“I enjoyed seeing the women in their dresses and matching accessories. I know it was hard work for the women to be so beautifully dressed, but most had a little black book of who was who, and a fifth son of one of the poorer gentry would have neither money or status, so any approaches for a dance was politely refused. Eventually I gave up going.”

“Would you have liked to be able to dress as colourfully as the women do?”

“I would like to have been able to try, but I didn’t enjoy all the colour at the Henley Regatta. The coloured blazers and straw boaters in outlandish mixtures of colours are not attractive either. I think someone, man or woman needs to dress with refinement and co-ordination.”

“I am thinking as I answer, that this is a very strange line of questioning. I am a Royal Marine and if I am allowed to stay then the regimentation of a uniform is all I aspire to.”

“Regiments like the Lancers or King’s Troop Royal Artillery are able to dress up and enjoy it.”

“I am sure that is true, but it is just a veneer. Underneath they are soldiers. The day job can involve the grubby business of fighting and either being killed and injured or doing the killing.”

“That is of course true. Everyone in the Services knows that they might need to make the ultimate sacrifice.”

Let’s move on. How have you found the day-to-day job of a Royal Marine?”

“In peacetime, it is very boring. The training prepares one for war, with the Marines being a superb fighting force, but in peacetime they need to fill their time with something and the work is largely unsatisfying.”

“That is not entirely true. What do you know of 48 Commando, and its roll in the Services?”

“I know very little. I know it is small and some of its work is covert.”

“If I am going to explain further, then I need to ask you to sign a form of the extended Official Secrets Act. This ensures that if anything about 48 Commando or it activities is released by you, that you will be held in solitary confinement in a maximum security facility at His Majesty’s Pleasure, which may be until you die.”

“Are you prepared to sign?”

Tristram was intrigued, and said so. He was allowed to sign and Malachite got out a personal white noise generator and turned it on.

“Just in case we are overheard, she said.”

“I think it is true to say that 48 Commando is always at war.”

She let that statement sink in with a significant pause.

“Members of 48 Commando are deployed in one and twos to serve Britain’s interests. The maximum deployment is four. They may be deployed for a few days or for over a year. The operations are almost always covert, and can be high risk to the individuals. All members of 48 Commando have to be highly intelligent, able to work as individuals without a chain of command. They need to be able to kill if required. No two deployments are ever the same.”

“It sounds like the sort of job I have been looking for, but why are you here and speaking to me. There must be lots of possible recruits who would jump at the chance of an exciting roll.”

“There are many who volunteer and all are rejected. Firstly the recruit has to have no family responsibilities. The work is secret and the member may need to be out of contact for months on end.”

“Second, the recruit needs to be adaptable, intelligent and confident in at least two foreign languages.”

“Thirdly, the volunteer needs to have already passed the Commando Selection procedure.”

“I am qualified on all those three, but so are many others. I don’t see why there are so many rejections.”

“The last criterion is that everyone who serves in 48 Commando is a woman. Our Commander was born as a woman, but everyone else was once a man and has been transgendered.”

“48 Commando uses all the techniques of covert warfare including seduction, to serve Britain’s needs.”

“The reason I am here is that you satisfy all the criteria. The discussions with your psychiatrist have shown that you empathise with women, and although we haven’t explored it fully today, that you might be comfortable dressing as a woman in the circles you moved in during your adolescence.”

“How can that be? I know I am small and can look feminine in a certain light, but I am not a woman and would look ridiculous in a ballgown.”

“I can assure you absolutely, that if you joined 48 Commando that within months you would look gorgeous in a ballgown, or in a bikini and you could both seduce and enjoy having sex with men.”

“That is extraordinary. I cannot see how that can happen.”

“I am going to leave now, Tristram. You have the basic ideas. You have signed the enhanced Official Secrets Act and are governed by its provisions. I will phone my commanding officer when I get back to the hotel to say that I will approve your recruitment if you decide to accept it. You will have tonight to consider your options. Firstly you can accept the dishonourable discharge and you will be released in six days into a society who neither knows you or will support you. Secondly you can appeal to have the dishonourable discharge cancelled and maybe you will be returned to your unit, although I doubt if an appeal this late in the day would succeed. Thirdly you can be placed in my custody when I return at 10am tomorrow morning. If the interviews do not go well you will be discharged from Devon. If they do go well and you sign the innumerable forms, then you will have a full medical and psychological examination, and if that is satisfactory you will have the first of a number of treatments that will turn you into a beautiful woman.”

“If you accept the third option it will take a year for the changes to be completed in you and for you to build up your skill base. This will cost the government more than a million pounds. Your enlistment will be extended for five years as a consequence.

“What do you think I should do? I have no friends who I can discuss this with.”

“I cannot give you my opinion, but you have given the impression that you would enjoy being part of covert operations which are not safe. I also think you have shown that you could carry off the role of a female commando practically. Whether you want to be made into one of the women that rejected you as being too insignificant, I cannot say. That must have hurt. All I will say is that 48 Commando is a group of women who are exposed to danger routinely. They are a sisterhood who love and support each other unreservedly. You would have a family in 48 Commando that you surely miss in your unsupportive biological family.”

Malachite stood, straightened her skirt, checked her beret, turned off the white noise generator and knocked on the door to be released.

The psychiatrist came out of his office as she prepared to leave.

“How was it?”

“I think the visit will work out satisfactorily. I will return in the morning at 10.00 hours. If the prisoner accepts my offer, he will need to have an ankle tag fitted, then he will be placed in my custody and we will return to Devon on the train.”

“I hope it works out. I will make myself available if he needs help.”

“I don’t think you should. He has signed the enhanced Official Secrets Act and almost anything he says before will be covered by the Act. It could mean an indefinite jail sentence for him if he discusses it with you, and a Courts Martial for you if you discuss the situation with him knowing that it is covered by the highest level of secrecy.”

“Then I will leave well alone. I am sure you will give him some time in the morning if he has any residual doubts.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Until tomorrow then. I shall call a taxi to take me to the hotel, and will wait for it at the Guard House.”

“Until tomorrow then.”

“The Uber took the ten minutes the App said it would, and Malachite was soon whisked the three miles into Colchester City Centre.”

She kept a low profile that evening. A quick trip round a small designer boutique in the one non-military set of clothing she had brought to look out for some pretty clothes, then a meal in the hotel.

The phone call to Lauren was masked by the white noise generator, but Malachite drew the curtains to hide any observer’s lip reading activities.The call covered all the ground that Malachite had explored with Tristram, and Lauren said that she would make the arrangements for the various interviews that would need to take place a day later, but the medical suite would be geared up to process a new candidate just in case.

The following morning Malachite had a leisurely breakfast compared to her normal rush, but was ready when the Uber arrived at the hotel’s front entrance, and within minutes she was back at the entrance to the MCTC.

After signing in, she was guided to the suite she had used yesterday and Tristram was waiting with a small plastic carrier … the sum of his possessions. The prison had asked what he planned to do and had had the ankle tag fitted already.

“I think you have made your decision, Malachite commented as she entered the room.”

“I think that is obvious”, as he raised a trouser leg to show the tag.

A clerk appeared from nowhere, it seemed, and presented Malachite with a sheaf of documents to permit Tristram to be released into Malachite’s custody and then to travel on public transport to Devon with her.

“Is there anything you want to say before we leave?”

“No, I don’t think so. There are unanswered questions, but I am sure I can answer them in Devon as well as here. If I am to be discharged it can happen there as well as here.”

The journey will take about five hours with a taxi across London. I will get you a sandwich and a drink in London when we are between trains. There is a men’s toilet on Liverpool Street Station with only one entrance and exit. You will need to use that as we go through the station as I cannot supervise you in a men’s toilet. Your tag will show up on my phone was well, but I doubt if it would be worth while doing a bunk from my custody with only six days of imprisonment left.”

“I will be on my best behaviour, I promise.”

“… and I believe you.”

The guards seemed to take for ever studying the documents Malachite showed them, but eventually they were in the Uber, and then waiting on the Station for the London train. The rest of the journey was uneventful and four and a half hours later the two Service personnel arrived at the home of 48 Commando.

Malachite was welcomed back with a hug and a kiss on the cheek by the guards, and Tristram was introduced as Jet. He looked to Malachite, with raised eyebrows.

“I am just jumping the gun a bit.” Malachite said with a shrug. I think you will be Jet Smith by tomorrow night.”

“Thank you for your confidence. I not as certain as you are.”

“I will take you to the Mess and get you sorted out with a room. You will need to keep the tag on until you have been transferred to 48 Commando and have had your first treatment.”

“Can I get a change of clothes? I only have what I am standing up in.”

“Yes, I am certain we can sort you out with a clean uniform and some standard issue underwear and pyjamas.”

“Yes, I would be happy to be able to present myself clean and unshaven to the Committee.”

After eating the Malachite took Tristram to the NAAFI to get some toiletries, and to the quartermasters for a change of clothes.

“Until you have had your hearing tomorrow I need to keep you tracked, but I will leave you at your temporary room and let you get some sleep.”

The move from a cell in a military prison to a private room in a Marine barracks was a major event in Tristram’s life. He thought that he might not sleep, but within a few minutes he was asleep and it was an alarm in his room playing an electronic version of reveille that woke him.

“Will this be the last day where I am wholly a man?” I don’t know what to feel?”

Malachite chose that moment to knock quietly and approach her charge for them both to go to breakfast.

“You were talking aloud. What don’t you know what to feel?”

“I was wondering what it would be like to be a woman, and a beautiful one at that.”

“It will be something that you grow into. The training with all three Commando branches takes nine of the twelve months of conversion. It is only the last three months where the subtle arts of womanhood are taught.”

“When do I see the Committee?”

“They will convene at 10am and you will be called shortly afterwards. After perhaps an hour with them you will have your confidential meeting with a psychologist. Everything you say to her will be in confidence unless she has serious misgivings about you being appointed. If that is the case, then none of that information is released, but the Committee accept their recommendation and will revert to the discharge in five days time.”

“We will remain in the Mess here until you are called, and I will leave you to the tender mercies of the Committee. They will call me if they want to question my report. Whatever happens I will be the one to remove the ankle tag either today, or when you are discharged.”

“I wanted to ask whether the transition hurts at all?”

“The five small incisions hurt a bit, but heal within a couple of days. A Paracetamol at bed time is all that is needed to keep one comfortable. The changes in your body tend to itch rather a lot as the body changes in shape. We have effective moisturisers to help with that. There are no other pains. It is just the rather fascinating process of watching in the mirror as your body change from what is rather angular in most men to much more feminine curves. That is over a period of perhaps three months.”

“We have a little ceremony when each marine changes from a man’s uniform to a woman’s one.”

“Is that what happened to you, Colour Sergeant?”

“Yes, I was an armourer for the 42nd marines and when this opportunity fell into my lap, as it were, I embraced the changes, and here I am.”

“If I was in any other unit, I wouldn’t have dared to ask someone of your rank about what’d happened to them, yet I feel comfortable asking you.”

“Thank you for your confidence. When you have trained fully you will be promoted to sergeant. It is the lowest functional rank in the 48th. The difference in ranks in the all female unit is far smaller than it seems to you now. I support the women who go out to serve and I help them as much as I can when they return battered and bruised. You have not had a real family for years. Your misfortune has left you isolated and uncertain about life in general. You have had a bum deal with your prison sentences, but here we support each other. Pretty much every woman has a story to tell and the family here is all they have.

“ Each of the 48 Commandos needs support, not rules. We hug each other routinely and with our chosen gemstone names and the surname ‘Smith’ we use them to give a sense of family. If I need to make it clear that I am speaking as a senior NCO I will make it plain that I am doing so. The only people who are treated differently are the CO and her deputy, the adjutant.”

“Now we must stop talking. I can see the clerk coming to take you to your selection board. Be positive in there. You will be very useful as part of the team, but we will give you a lot back if you are accepted.”

Tristram stood and seemed to smooth the front of his trousers as if it had been a skirt.

Malachite smiled to herself at that unconscious action.

Nineteen steps to the Colonel’s door. A smart turn following the clerk. Four steps into the room and a sharp salute to the Colonel, the Adjutant and a staff officer she didn’t know.

“Private Rand-Yates reporting as ordered, M’am.”
“At Ease, Private. Please sit down.”

Tristram sat at the upright chair in front of the Colonel’s desk.

The clerk took up her seat at the side with her note pad.

“This selection panel is convened today to consider the transfer of Private Tristram Rand-Yates to 48 Commando.”

“Private Rand-Yates, your service record has been seen by the panel and whilst there are two uncomfortable incidents recorded, you have served your time for those, and I believe that you were not entirely to blame. You took the punishment without complaint. That is to your credit.”

“Thank you M’am for believing in me.”

“We are here to consider the rest of your service record and we believe that your other attributes make you a very good candidate for the 48th. Please explain what Malachite has said of the 48th to you. We must know that this application is made in full knowledge of the implications of accepting any appointment we may make.”

“Thank you M’am. I am aware that the 48th is involved with covert operations throughout the World in support of the needs of the British Government, and ultimately, the King. I have not been asked to use my languages, or other training in my most recent postings and I know that they can be used more usefully. I am also trained as an electrical engineer, having served in REME for three years before transferring to the marines.”

“On a personal level I feel unfulfilled in my most recent postings. The opportunity to serve where I am largely dependent on my own resources is an attractive one, and the opportunity to be part of an extended family here is also very attractive. I have always felt on the margins any group I was part of. My gender ambivalence never fails to attract comment and criticism amongst other Service personnel, and I would welcome the opportunity to become more obviously female than male. I have given much thought to the matter since I was visited in Colchester only three days ago, and it seems a very natural change to me. Even from my rather unhappy childhood in a boys boarding school I have constantly had to try to outdo my peers to maintain some sort of kudos.”

“I understand that I would be expected to solicit sexual encounters with powerful men. I have no experience with sexual encounters with men, and none with women for that matter, but I don’t have any feeling of revulsion at either. I do feel that I can remain dispassionate when I need to seduce a man, and I am told that I will be provided with all the skills needed to play that roll effectively.”

“In the short time I have had to consider these matters I have not been able to resolve the idea of pregnancy and motherhood. I never gave fatherhood any thought either. I have been told that the potential for motherhood is something I should raise in my meeting with the psychologist, but I am told that unresolved feelings about motherhood or parenthood generally can have therapy during the next year of my training.”

“I know that in all the armed services in the final event, that they may be ordered to kill or die in the service of the United Kingdom, and provided with the means to do so I have no reluctance to terminate anyone acting against our interests.”

“Thank you Private. I think you have made it clear that you understand the consequences of accepting any offer we may make.”

The questions continued about the skills the Private had from his days as an engineer, and the placements he had had as a marine. They were for the most part mundane. It would depend much more on his psychological profiling as to whether an offer would be made.

“If all goes well, you will be called for a detailed medical during the afternoon and then any offer will be made final. There are various documents that need to be completed before you will be asked to attend the medical centre for the first of your treatments during this evening.”

“We will inform your old battalion of your transfer, and return the electronic tag to Colchester. A bale of new uniforms will be available after your first treatment.

“Please have a break for coffee and you will be invited in for your confidential assessment in about 20 minutes.”

Malachite was waiting in the lounge and went and got coffee for them both.

“How did it go?”

“I think it went well. I was very honest. If they reject me then it will be for good reason.”

“Relax for a few minutes. Go to the loo and then be equally honest with the psychologist.”

The psychologist was immediately friendly, and they sat together on a couch.

“This is your opportunity to explore any misgivings you have about a transfer here. It is confidential except for one instance where I deem your transfer unsuitable. It is very unlikely at this stage, but I will tell you that in advance if I am going to do that. Even then, what you say to me is in absolute confidence”

“Fair enough.”

“I am concerned that this has been very fast. I haven’t had time to really challenge myself over what seems to be obvious. The change to a more covert type of Service, and the necessity for self-reliance both make sense to me. It is something I have wanted for years. Should I be so accepting of such a major change? Did I join the Services for certainty and reliability. The Forces look after the common soldier as best they can, in exchange for the person being prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice if it is ever needed.”

“ Boarding school may be brutal for someone like me, but it did give certainty and a sense of belonging to a network. I had hoped that the Army would do the same, but I have always been on the margins, and have never felt the group identity others feel.”

“I think you are right that many people in the armed forces join for that sense of tradition, and belonging. They also enjoy the male camaraderie. The opening of the Armed Services to women has exposed a number of weaknesses in the support given to both young women and to men who are perceived to exhibit feminine characteristics. You have recognised that your self esteem comes from your prowess as a Commando with the skills that go with it, and in peacetime some of those skills that have to be practiced are not used. I think you will benefit from the transfer to the 48th. It will give you a different camaraderie and your obvious skills will be recognised differently. I think you will adapt to the covert methods used by the 48th. quite easily. Studies have been done on the type of person who can be deployed in an undeclared war and succeed. You fit the criteria absolutely, resourceful, skilful, confident and potentially beautiful.”

“How do you know I will be beautiful?”

“You have the bone structure that will work well with the treatment, and many of the mannerisms you already use are quite feminine. The treatment is noted for producing very beautiful women. I don’t see you being any different.”

“My second concern is about the seduction aspect of the work. I have never had any sort of relationship that was meaningful. I am not a virgin, but am far from being an expert lover as a man. How do I know if I will make a successful seductress and be able to gather important information in the bedrooms of the famous and rich?”

“Those skills are taught in the final three months of the training. We have experts who can teach you how to dress appropriately and behave seductively. The art of cosmetics, deportment and hair styling are taught throughout the course. We have very skilful male sex workers who will teach you the finer points of stimulating a man, and female sex workers who will teach you how to solicit men’s attention.”

“If you opt for the full conversion you will need to understand about conception and motherhood, and when your reduced period of ovulation will finish.”

“I don’t know about the reduced period of ovulation.”

“Girls start to menstruate from eight years of age and most have gone through the menopause and stop ovulation in their mid-forties. The treatments available here mean that you will be in your late twenties before you have your first period and we understand that women who have been transgendered may have no further eggs by the time they are 35 and go through the menopause early. After your five years of engagement with the 48th you would have perhaps three or four years of fertility. Is that clear.”

“That is abundantly clear.”

“What about feelings of motherhood? Would I bond with a baby in the same way that a woman born that way would do?”

“There is almost no evidence available. There are only four women who have been created by the method used here who have gone on to have babies. There have been no problems with them bonding with their babies or breast feeding, but I cannot give you a certain answer. The thing we do know is that the pelvis of a transformed woman never becomes as flexible during a pregnancy as that of a mother born that way. You would need to accept the fact that you would need a Caesarian section to give birth safely.”

“I have never been attracted to other men, even though I am thought of as being gay, because of my appearance. Can you give an indication of my sexual orientation after I am fully a woman?”

“All the information we have to date is that you will be attracted men in your new form.”

“If I am selected I would like to complete the process and be able to have my own children. Can I specify that with you, or do I do that when I get the results from the CO?”

“I can record that as your wish.”

“Then please do so.”

“I am going to recommend that we accept your transfer into 48 Commando. I hope the selection team will agree with me. You will be a fine addition to the team. You have some uncertainties, but that is natural. These can be eased in time.”

“Please return to the lounge. I will tell the Commander that I have finished.”

It was only ten minutes that Tristram had to wait before the Commander emerged with a smile. “We would be pleased if you would accept a transfer to 48 Commando. Do you accept the transfer?”

“Yes. I am very happy to accept the transfer.”

“Please go and have a light lunch. I know there is a quite motherly Colour Sergeant Major who wants to welcome you properly. There will be bundle of papers for you to sign after lunch, and when that is done the medical team will get to work on you. I hope you will like the name Jet. I think it suits you, but there are other names you could choose.”

“Jet will be fine.”

Malachite watched how Jet was introduced to the team. The hugs and air kisses that spread round the room, and the cheers of the gathered women.

Later she watched as the small wounds healed and then daily as Jet returned from daily training with the Commandos at the base, then each three month placement with the Special Air Squadron and the Special Boat Squadron. After the first placement, Jet changed into women’s uniforms. Her hair grew lustrous and eventually reached her shoulders and beyond, and her rosy complexion took on a healthy hue with a good routine of creams and simple makeup. Her bust grew and caused comment even amongst her colleagues, and she had to get a new wardrobe every three months as her hips widened and her waist thinned.

She ran, and swam and outdid many other in the gym.

In the final three months her deportment became a model to others. She charmed and encouraged, and relearned the ballroom dances taught to her as a child. Clothes glided and flowed over her lithe body and to say that she became eye-catching was an understatement.

The sex coach could not fault her in her technique and several young and very fit men from the 32nd commando emerged exhausted after just one night in her company.

She was ready, and Malachite knew it.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

“Jet and Obsidian, please attend the Commander’s office at 09:00.” the loudspeaker told everyone at breakfast.

“The two women finished their breakfast quickly, attended to whatever business needed doing, then waited in the outside office. They were ushered in by the CO’s clerk at 09:00 precisely.”

After the formalities they were asked to sit and Lauren opened a red file in front of her.

“There is young man who is expected to be reasonably wealthy, but who seems to have become obscenely wealthy very recently, and for no obvious reason. He attends Ascot for the racing and Henley for the Regatta as well as Twickenham for the Rugby. He has recently bought a Wimbledon membership, and has purchased a Wimbledon debenture at £116,000.”

“Our boss, the General, has asked us to see if we can find out the source of his wealth because the target has applied to become a member of one of the most exclusive clubs in London and the General needs to know how he can become so lavish with his spending. If there is a whiff of impropriety then the General will black ball him.”

“This also gives you, Jet, a task to test you on your first deployment.”

“The General and his wife, Betty will take you to Royal Ascot on Ladies Day as his two nieces. You will be introduced to the target and after that it is up to you. We understand that the target, or should we be calling him the victim, has a fascination with 3-way sex.”

“I understand from Malachite that you two were partners when you did your practicals on girl-girl sex, so I guess you can put on a show for him if that is needed.”

Jet smiled that sort of crooked smile that says it all, and looked over to Obsidian.

“Yes, M’am I think we can manage that.”

“You will have free reign in the ‘shop’ to prepare.”

“We haven’t had a chance to visit the shop before.”

“Well it will be a revelation for you. It is stocked with many outfits, dresses, hats, underwear and gloves for all sorts of events. Everything is colour coded, so you both will look at the black section I expect. There are some exotic dresses there and the hats will do very well for Ladies Day at Ascot.”

“Go and have fun there, then I will give you the General’s address and you will drive up to Surrey. I assume you are happy with that, Obsidian.”

“Yes, M’am that will be fine.”

“The General and his wife will put you both up for the night and then you will be driven in his Rolls-Royce to Ascot. After you have been introduced to our friend, it is up to you to find out the source of his wealth. You will be given a small amount in cash as you would be expected to make bets on the races. I have a list of runners and riders for each of the seven races. Several experts have gone over the list, and you are strongly advised to bet on their suggestions. Winning is not guaranteed of course, but if you win it will make you even more attractive to our friend. Make a fuss if you win. He will notice, and two pretty girls winning will make the other punters notice and they will jump on the bandwagon, as it were. If he wins as a result of your recommendations then it is a dead cert that you will be invited to an after races party and after that … well I will leave that up to you both.”

“Don’t bet on the last race. If our friend has made a killing on your recommendation he will not bother with the last race and you will be whisked off somewhere nice for a celebration.”

“If he loses?”

“If he loses, he will whisk you off somewhere to drown his sorrows.”

“I think we might be able to think up something to entertain him.”

“I though that might be the case!”

“Now get to it to choose some really sexy outfits, fit for Ladies Day.”

“Yes M’am.”

Jet and Obsidian made a bee-line for the Store. It was a recent introduction so the Smiths didn’t have to buy new clothes for each deployment. This worked because all the Smiths were the same sizes.

A passcode allowed them to enter a small hangar-like building with air conditioning. The dresses suitable for Ascot were in an aisle saying ‘Dresses for Formal Occasions.’

The two women ran their hands over dozens of dresses starting with white and cream at one end and moving through the spectrum to black. Each was in a transparent bag with a label that identified suitable hats and accessories.

Obsidian and Jet moved more and more slowly down the line. Running their hands over that plastic bags that glowed dully under the strip lamps. Each grabbed two dresses. There were no changing rooms but there was a bench at the end of each row. Only women, and only the Smiths would be there, so stripping off was not a big deal.

Obsidian chose a blue midi dress with a black gauze over-skirt. The satin bodice and under-skirt clung to her curves and Jet clapped as Obsidian gave a swirl.

“I think those Grecian sandals will go well with this dress and that midnight blue blazer would also suit.”

“I love this one. It is a shame we have to give them back after our deployment, but setting up this Store was a good idea.”

“You will need boots with a heel for that dress, and something like a fascinator to go with it.”

“Jet had chosen a simpler design, almost like a sun dress with thin straps over her shoulders, and the plunging décolletage denied any appearance of naïvety.”

“That is no good, beautiful as it is. There is a dress code at Ascot. Your shoulders have to be covered. Straps have to be at least an inch wide and the dress has to be calf length at least. A hat is also required.”

How can I be a temptress, looking like a dowdy old maid?”

“You would never look like a dowdy old maid. We look alike, so if you did, I would as well!”

“I think you are being a bit of a spoilsport, but I do accept that I have to keep to the expectations of the General and his wife.”

Jet decided to go with a simple peasant rich brown skirt with an elasticated waist and large black patent leather belt. The top was in cream crepe de chine, and over that she chose a cream coloured blazer with 3/4 ruched sleeves.

“What about a hat?”

“I don’t care for hats, and I am trying to appear young, inexperienced and vulnerable. Just the effect to attract our victim.”

“You will have him drooling if you make yourself any more of a challenge to his manhood”

“This is not meant to be a one-person show. You need to be as much man-bait as me.”

“ OK, I will let the Gold Star I got for flirting get me into his bed.”

“Shall we give him a dose of sildenafil (Viagra) during the party followed by some Sodium pentathal?”

“From what I know they are contraindicated, so I think we may stick with the Viagra, we don’t want to kill him.”

“Does it taste if it is administered as a powder.”

“ It would do if we just ground up little blue pills bought over the counter, but a bitter compound and the blue dye are added. Malachite has a supply of capsules that can be broken open and are tasteless and colourless when they dissolve in a drink.”

“I am tempted to give him two. They would turn him into a human dynamo.”

“Don’t tempt me. Malachite’s version is more powerful than the over-the-counter tablets. He will not know what to do with himself with just the one.”

“If we need to we can give him Pentathal when we wake in the morning. It may make him a bit more forthcoming.”

“I know we are having a laugh at his expense, but this is a dangerous man. He may be running strings of sex workers or selling drugs to get all the money he seems to have, and we could be on the receiving end of various date rape drugs, or just being drugged senseless and carted off to be prostitutes somewhere.”

“Malachite has an antidote to both flunitrazepam (Rohypnol) and gamma-hydroxybutyrate (GHB), but it may harm our plans if we get dosed and then show no ill effects. We need to be careful, no not just careful … very careful.”

“All your points are well said, but we have been taught to live on our wits and I will be positive about our chances of success.”

“If we cannot get any information on the first night. What then?”

“I suggest that we knock him out. Our ring hypos can contain Fentanyl. Search his room and if nothing is found, make our escape.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“… and what if he doesn’t want to bed both of us?”

“I doubt that will be a problem. Two ditzy pretty, naïve girls, just begging to be deflowered by a sugar daddy. I am sure he will be all over us.”

“Do we emphasise our supposed virginity?”

“I don’t see why not. We are selling ourselves as being ‘ripe for the picking’ and I am sure the boss will get ‘first dibs’ as the saying goes.”

“I feel almost sorry for him.”

“Don’t be, he is a nasty bit of work who has come into a lot, and I mean a lot of money very quickly and through no obvious legal means. If he has inherited from a deceased benefactor then we need to know. Even if he is selling the services of sex workers or mountains of drugs on the open market he couldn’t make that much money so quickly.”

“My guess is that he has managed to open some people’s blockchains and no one has noticed the grabbing of mountains of crypto currency.”

“If that is the case. How do we prove that he is a thief?”

“If he is into Crypto, and he knows we are novices at crypto investment, we can ask his advice. He may be flattered enough to tell us how it works. If we are convinced that he is very knowledgeable, then we can access bank accounts to see about large deposits into bank accounts from the sale of Bitcoin or Eutherium or whatever.”

“We can also let it slip to a variety of drug cartels and other similar organisations that our client may have his fingers in their tills and see what happens if they find big losses.”

“His life will be a short one, for sure, but If we find that he is really very good at dealing in Crypto, and his gains are entirely proper, then we can tell the General and head for home with a fun-time having being had by all, and no one the wiser.”

The two women drove up to Ascot the following day, Ladies Day at the races. They had a twin booking at a local chain hotel, but neither expected to use it.

They drove to the General’s house and were welcomed by the General, a kindly man who kept a close eye on the 48th Commando as his particular pet project. His wife was admiring of the two women, not really believing that they were once men.

After using the facilities, they were entertained to a light lunch provided by a mature lady who was the General’s housekeeper. Next they had the use of a bedroom to finalise their makeup and put on their hats.

The General had a Rolls Royce with a Chauffeur and the two marines had to sit as decorously as they could on the drop down seats that faced the luxurious leather ones occupied by the General and his wife.

They were sure the General got a view of their scantily clad area under their skirts, but he showed no sign of having done so.

The journey was short and they were dropped off by the chauffeur at the entrance before he went and found their dedicated car parking space.

The four visitors showed their passes to get into the Royal Enclosure and the horses were already being lead round the paddock for the first race. Jet and Obsidian had no hints for the first race, so they got to know who was there. Whenever anyone looked over at them the General introduced them as his nieces, but there was no sign of their target.

With a slight nod to the General they moved away from him and made their way to an area frequented by a younger set of racegoers. They were not far away from the desks of the select group of Bookies that are allowed in the Royal Enclosure. They didn’t want to use online services because those would be too private.

When the second race was called, both women went and made a bet with a well known Turf Accountant for a grand total of £50. It seemed a lot of money, but it was bait for their job.

The horse won at 5:2 and the £175 winnings were allowed to ride onto the third race where the women also won, at 2:1. Their £525 winnings were allowed to ride onto the fourth race, which was the Ascot Gold Cup, and by this time people were beginning take notice around them. The girls made it obvious with loud talking that they were on a winning streak.

Their horse in the fourth race also won at 7/2 so their stake was now over £2360.

A bit of a crowd was forming near them and the Bookie they had been using was looking concerned. He would dearly have liked for the couple of novice punters to lose that fifth race, but the crowd were involved now. The Bookie laid off some of the next bet with the other bookies on site and online. When the fifth horse won at 7:2 on, the bookie heaved a sigh of relief. The bet for the sixth race would only be £3037, but the crowd were betting on the girls for the sixth race and the odds changed very quickly. The sixth race winner was declared at 5:2 leaving them over £10,000 for the original £50 stake.

As they took their winnings as an electronic payment, their bank accounts would look very healthy for a few days until all of the money would have to be paid over to the Regiment.

Someone brought them plastic flutes full of something fizzy, maybe Champagne, but more likely a Prosecco.

They were toasted by the people present, and in the middle of this celebration a man dressed conservatively, drifted over and spoke to Jet quietly.

“I have someone who would like to meet you.”

Jet looked over at Obsidian. Nodded imperceptibly. The fish had taken the hook.

They allowed themselves to to be lead over to a spot where their intended victim was seated casually on a shooting stick with a small table, and a bottle of a very expensive bottle of vintage Champagne sitting in an ice bucket.

“That was a remarkable display of betting. I lot of people will have made good profits by following your example. How did you come up with that combination of bets?”

“It was quite simple. We took some advice and then bet on either the favourite or second favourite in every race. There were unlikely to be any 50:1 winners, and the bookies are always made poorer when the favourites win.”

“We were just lucky I suppose, but we were not greedy and followed the Form Book carefully. This would not have worked at other race meetings, but the runners and riders for this meeting made the decisions easier. We found the first and seventh races too hard to call, and didn’t bet where we were not sure of having a reasonable chance of success.”

“I am impressed. Please share this bottle of Champagne. It is very good and it would please me to share it will two very pretty girls.”

The Champagne was indeed, very good and was poured from the same bottle their target was drinking from, so the girls felt that it would be safe to drink. It would be too public for them to be allowed to become incoherent at the track. The cut glass glasses were beautiful and the lead glass shone in the sunlight giving an extra opulence to the drink.

After a few minutes talking pleasantries about the races and the owners, they were invited to an after race day party at a local hotel. After explaining about them staying with the General, Obsidian went back, found the General and said that they would be joining the party.

The General knew that they were only doing their jobs but did ask then to take care.

Obsidian assured him that they were well prepared and went back to where Jet was standing with her intending host.

He already had a hand on her shoulder, and Jet was not making a fuss about it being there.

Their host was encouraging them to call him Dean and they were guided to the back of a white Rolls Royce Dawn Silver Bullet. Dean sat between the two girls and had his hand on both their knees as soon as the car had left the Ascot racecourse area.

Dean was careful to assure them that they would be returned to the General’s home as soon as they wished, and he made it clear to the chauffeur that he was to take them back later. They didn’t mention that they had a hotel booking. It seemed safer to have their host assume that they were staying with the General and his wife.

The party was just getting started when they arrived. Guests were driving up in an array of expensive cars, and there was a staff of parking assistants who would take the cars away for the evening and would provide a lift home in a taxi if the owner had more alcohol or other substances that would have made it unsafe for them to drive.

At the entrance there were scantily clad girls with champagne in glasses, and a variety of nibbles. There were also men and women with trays of bikinis or swimming trunks for the visitors. It seemed accepted that the guests would soon shed their Ascot attire for the relaxing swimwear that hid very little.

“I think this party is going to descend into some sort of orgy fairly soon.” Jet whispered to Obsidian. We need our weapons. There are plenty of guests, particularly the older ones, who are declining the suits, so we will do the same.”

“Obsidian nodded imperceptibly.”

Dean reappeared shortly afterwards with a beaming smile and a pair of golden swim shorts that hid very little. He clearly spent a lot of time on his appearance. His body was well toned and muscular without being over burdened with muscle. He had no body hair and his groin was obviously hair free.

“You seem to take a lot of care over your appearance.” Jet said.

“I do, and both of you appear to do the same.”

“Thank you, we do try to stay fit and healthy.”

“I have a more private area where we can be more ourselves.” Dean said as he held Jet’s hand gently and guided her through a door which had a burly guard on duty. The door said ‘Private’ in large red letters.

Inside the secure area there was a square of comfortable sofas that could easily be used for sex.

Here the service was provided by three pretty topless girls dressed only in a thong.

Dean was happy to run his hands over the buttocks of two of the girls as they went past with their trays of drinks.

One simpered that Dean was naughty boy.

“They are well paid to be available.” he said with a laugh.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable wearing rather less.” was his next, rather pointed comment.

“I would like to talk about you. I admire you and would like to hear how you have such wealth available. I think we could both learn a great deal from you.”

“Thank you for the thought, and the compliment, but we are here to relax rather than talk business.”

“This isn’t really business. I, no we, find people interesting, and I like to know about people before getting to know them better.”

“Very well. What do you want to know?”

“You are noted for having earned very well, and you are now immensely rich. Not everyone can do that. We would love to know your recipe for success. Maybe a bit of your luck will rub off on us.”

“Thank you for the compliment. I can think of no more charming young ladies who I would like to share my luck with, if I have any. Yes I have done well. It is rather mundane. I have worked hard and I have had some good fortune.”

As Dean swept his hand inadvertently over Jet’s left breast, Obsidian slipped a powder containing the ingredients of Viagra into his drink. The fine powder dissolved immediately. The guard facing away from his boss looking insouciant, didn’t notice anything.

Dean was apologetic about what he said was an inadvertent slip, and drank the whole glass of doctored wine in one go.

The guard immediately filled his glass as soon as Dean tapped his finger nail on the polished table.

A small buffet was brought in with canapés and other finger foods.

“Tuck in girls”, Dean encouraged with a good amount of bonhomie.

Dean ate very little, but continued drinking the chilled vintage champagne.

Jet and Obsidian sipped their drinks and used them to top up Dean’s glass when he wasn’t watching.

Dean was getting uncomfortable rather quickly as the drug took effect. The bulge in his trousers was very noticeable and he had to keep shifting position on the sofa, but nothing helped.

Jet spoke to him quietly. “Get shot of the guard. We can help with your problem.”

“You can leave us now.” he said to the guard.

The guard had seen it all before. This seduction was a little different from previously, but he was there to make sure his boss was not harmed, and there didn’t seem to be anything amiss, so he left to find a drink and a smoke.

“We are adults. You seem to find us very attractive if the state of your trousers is anything to go by. Would you like our help?”

“Yes please. I have never felt this way before. I am so hard that I hurt.”

Jet stripped off quickly, and Obsidian made Dean stand and stripped him down with accomplished skill, then left her own clothes in a more or less tidy heap in the middle of the floor.

Jet and Obsidian were accomplished lovers and Dean was satiated after their ministrations and fell into a deep sleep.

The girls were not finished.

After two hours they woke him and demanded that he satisfied them more. He was still Priapus-like and struggled to do his best. As he climaxed once again Obsidian’s ring injected a dose of truth serum to lower his resistance. Within minutes he was relaxed and compliant.

He still had the wit to brag and told them about how he had been a success running numerous shady eCurrency deals, but he hadn’t actually stolen anything. He had certainly used sharp practice where he had removed money by subterfuge from people who should have known better and really deserved what they got by thinking they could outwit the shark, Dean was.

As he sank into a deep sleep the two marines arranged him in the bed and covered his erection with a sheet before leaving.

The party was still going on. The guard sprang to attention as the two women left.

“We tired him out”, Jet said as she passed the rather bemused guard. The guard shrugged.

“It is alright for some.” he said to himself.

The driver drove them back to the hotel, rather than the General’s house and the two women packed away their dresses and slept for a few hours before getting dressed in their uniforms and getting a taxi to the General’s house.

A black limousine with darkened windows was waiting outside the hotel when they left, but seeing the two women in uniform and carrying sidearms, the vehicle left without further ado.

The General met them in his study in his pyjamas and dressing gown and received their report with the seriousness it deserved.

“It is a difficult call.” I think on reflection, that I will not black ball him, but I don’t think he will enjoy being a member of my Club. His particular way of accumulating money may catch up on him before too long.”

“Thank you for helping me. I am very glad to see you both well and recovered from the task.

“It has been a pleasure, Sir. Dean knows that any attempt to follow us will lead to some very undesirable characters making his acquaintance.”

Jet and Obsidian were given a good breakfast by the housekeeper before picking up their car.

Within a few hours they were back in their barracks and were hugged by their sisters on arrival. They were able to relax after giving a debrief and were allowed to keep £250 each from their winnings.

“Tristram Rand-Yates is long gone, Jet said to herself. I am home with my family now. Sod the rest of them who disowned me.”