Dave's word was good. I spent the weekend watching TV. Football and old movies. All I normally got was cooking shows and old reruns of old soaps. For a few hours, I forgot that I was sitting watching TV in a frilly red baby doll. with matching knickers.

My first client was two guys who wanted a maid. I arrived and was told to change in the bedroom by a middle aged bald guy. When I got back downstairs, I saw the other man was younger and around 6f tall.

"Get us some beers bitch" said the tall guy.

This was going to be one of those jobs. A job where I get treated like crap. I often wondered if these guys treated "real" women like this. I thought they probably did.

"Hurry up bitch, you're on the clock." The bald guy said.

I was dragging it out. They had paid £4k for an hour. I knew they would want their money's worth. I brought the beers on a tray with two glasses. The bald guy was naked and stroking an erection.

"On your knees slut. Blow me."

This was going to be a long hour.

I slowly licked the length of his shaft.

"Don't mess about bitch, SUCK IT."

I obeyed, and started to bob my head, making exaggerated slurping and sucking noises.

"Yeah, she loves cock doesn't she. She's a dirty slut." Said the tall guy.

I still struggled to think of myself as SHE.

After a few minutes, I felt the tall guy behind me. My knickers were pulled down, and he rammed into me. My scream was stifled by the cock in my mouth. They set up a rhythm between them I was forced by the man pounding my backside to deep throat the guy in front. They laughed and high-fived each other when they came. The guy in front wiped himself all over my face.

On the way back I had tears in my eyes. I felt so used. I was just a sex toy to those guys. They loved humiliating me. Bloody Dave knew that. That's why he chose me for the job. I was angry. He'd have to do better than that if he wanted me to commit to a full gender change.

My next job surprised me. I was given the code to enter a large detached house in the country. The client had paid for three hours. I had been given instructions and a script. The house and gardens were amazing. It had a tennis court and an indoor swimming pool. I found the master bedroom and dressed in the clothes on the bed.

There was a very expensive white, silk camisole and knickers. They smelled of expensive perfume, a blue, flowered, knee-length house dress, and hold-up stockings. I was told to bring a blond bob wig and some white high heels. On the dresser was a note instructing me to wear the small gold loop earrings and use the perfume. The perfume looked expensive. It had a Clive Christian Noble label on the bottle.

I checked myself in the mirror. I was the image of a suburban housewife. This is what the client wanted. I guess he wanted his wife back for a few hours. I went down to the kitchen and removed the casserole from the oven. It had been left on a timer.

The client opened the front door.

"Oh, Mary, My Mary. I have missed you so much."

He rushed over to kiss my face while gently hugging me. He must know that I wasn't his wife, but he was happy with the illusion. He rubbed my back so tenderly, and I found myself enjoying it. Why? I thought.

Then it hit me. The last person to hug me was my wife. Men don't hug much. Some do it briefly, but not like a man and woman do. I had mixed feelings. It felt a little wrong that I should enjoy it. I also felt small, vulnerable, but protected. He was saying that he would never let me go. He would look after me and we would be happy. I remember telling my wife things like that before she died.

When he released me, I saw he was crying.

"I'm sorry, Mary. I'm sorry.. it's just that... I know you're not her..but.."

I felt so sorry for him. He wasn't like most of my clients, who just wanted sex. He wanted companionship.

"It's OK, John. I will be your Mary today."

He smiled and took my hand and led me to the dining room. We sat down and ate. He told me all about Mary. She was the love of his life. She supported him while he built up his building business. Just when things got good, the plague hit. He regretted spending so much time working and not with his wife. I felt the same way, only I never amounted to much as a man.

After dinner, he put some music on and we danced. I was a little awkward. I never danced much as a guy, but he was gentle and led me around the room. My hands around his neck, and his softly rubbing my buttocks. It was sensuous and felt so sexy. None of my clients had been like this before.

As we danced, I looked at his face. He was in his late 40's. He had a rugged, handsome look. I saw such sadness in his eyes. I just wanted to hold him and comfort him. I caught myself. Why was I thinking like this? Was it the hormones? Do they have that effect on your mind?

He leaned down and kissed me. I didn't resist. This was different. I found myself pushing my tongue into his mouth. I was actively taking part in this. It usually filled me with a little revulsion, even after months of being kissed.

He turned me around and hugged me from behind. He softly blew in my ear. Oh my God. I felt my trapped cock tingle. That had not happened since before going to prison. He kissed my neck, and I moved my head to the side so he could do it more. His hands then cupped both of my breasts. His fingers rubbed my now hard nipples through my dress and camisole. The silk felt incredible. I was amazed at these feelings. I wanted him. For the first time ever I wanted to have sex with another man.

"Mary, will you come to bed with me, my love?"

"Yes, John, I would love to," I whispered.

I could not understand my feelings for him. I had just met him. Perhaps it was because for the last 6 months I had been treated like an object. Something to be used and discarded. This man was asking me. He was gentle and kind. Or perhaps it was the hormones. The developing feminine side of me was recognizing a good mate. For the first time, I wanted to have sex as a woman,

John was 6 inches taller than me. He picked me up and carried me up the wide staircase. I felt helpless. He could do what he wanted to me, and I couldn't stop him. What surprised me was that I didn't want to. I just wanted to make him happy. I had only just met the guy, but he seemed so gentle and kind. I think he was the first man who had treated me as a real person, a woman.

He laid me on the bed and slowly removed my clothes.

"Are you alright, my love? I'm sorry, it's just been so long. "

"Yes, John, it's fine. I'm fine."

I unbuckled his belt. He took off his shirt and stepped out of his trousers. He was fairly big down there. I had prepared myself as I always did, but got a tube of lube out of my handbag. He stood in front of me a full attention. His cock trembled I the cool air.

I leaned forward and took him in my mouth.

"Oh Mary! That feels wonderful. I have missed this so much. You're so beautiful, my love"

No one had ever complimented me beyond . "You suck like a pro".

I gave him my best effort. I swirled my tongue around his glans as I bobbed up and down.

"Oh my! I'm going to come."

I was happy to please him. I looked up into his eyes and saw tears.

I stopped.

"You OK?"

"Sorry, I just fell like I'm betraying her memory."

He started to sob. I stood and held him to my chest. I stroked his hair.

"There, it's OK, John. I'm sure she knew you loved her. I'm also sure she would want you to be happy. Do I make you happy?"

"Yes, you do. I have missed female company so much. This place feels like a home again."

"Well, I'm sure she wouldn't mind. You still love her. That's what matters."

"Can...can I make love to you.. Please?"

I had so many feelings right then. I felt so sorry for this man. I wanted to make him happy again, and I think I wanted to make him love me. This was crazy. It had to be those bloody hormones I was taking. No one had ever asked me if they could make love to me.

"Yes, I would like that," I said, and I meant it.

He pushed me onto my back, then removed my knickers. I was on the edge of the bed. He gripped both of my ankles and spread my legs high and wide. I felt him slowly push into me. He did this so tenderly and smoothly. It didn't hurt in the least.. I felt him brush my prostate and cried out in pleasure.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"If you did, it was the sweetest hurt I ever had, my love."

My love? What was I saying? He smiled down at me as he slowly slid in and out. The sight of my smooth, stocking-covered legs and my red toe nails made me feel so feminine. I found myself meeting his thrusts. My, oh, my. I was really enjoying myself. He increased his pace and I felt him stimulating me inside with every thrust. He grew urgent, and sped up. He was driving me hard into he bed. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him in deeper. Suddenly, we both came together.

He collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his face.

"I would love to, but you know the rules. I'm sorry."

"What if I offered to buy you. I don't want to lose you."

"They will only allow that for trans women. I'm not trans."

"But you could be, couldn't you?"

I was stunned. What would life be like as a woman? A housewife. Could I do it? For the rest of my life?