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                         TO LOVE AND TO CHERISH
                         ======================

                       Copyright C 1996, Daedalus

  This story contains what is known as "transgender material". It does
    *NOT* contain any elements of m/m, s/m, b/d, humiliation, pain,
         or anatomically detailed descriptions of sexual acts.
   If this lack offends you, do yourself a favour and read no further.

  All characters and situations described herein are fictional and any
    resemblance to any real or fictional persons or events is purely
                             coincidental.

   Copying and free distributing permitted, on the condition of this
      header being included in any copies -- paper or electronic.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
-

PART 1



"No!"

"But darling..."

"No!"

"You are being thoroughly unreasonable, you know!"

"Oh yeah? *I* am being unreasonable? And what does that make you?!"

"It's not as if it were for the first time..."

"Quite! I've had enough. No!"

"I'll start throwing things!"

"Ah... We are now threatening to throw a fit, are we? How un-ladylike."

"You knew you weren't marrying a lady!"

"Damn right!"

"Is that supposed to mean anything?"

"Perish the thought!"

"Just checking!"

Meg dumped two steaming plates on the table and for a short while they
were both pretending to be too busy concentrating on their food. Only
when Joe got up to pour, rather belatedly, two glasses of beer, Meg
decided that the temperature had dropped low enough.

"Look," she said, "let's start again. You are obviously upset over it
and I can't work out why. It's only another session of the Circle, for
goodness' sake. You know all about it. I've never made it a secret,
have I? What's the big deal?"

"Yeah, and why does the damn Circle need to meet *here*? And every
bloody week, too?"

Meg heaved a carefully judged sigh - just enough to show irritation,
but not enough to trigger another bout of shouting.

"Joe, please... I did explain. Our place happens to be by *far* the
most suitable. For miles and miles and miles around. A fluke of
geography. We've been through all of this before you moved in with me,
remember?"

Joe felt his anger losing its original edge and made a mental effort to
generate a stubborn determination to fill the void.

"Oh, I don't mind the wretched Circle meeting here, dammit. But I *do*
object to being booted out of my own home every time it does decide to
get together! It was supposed to be 'a few times a year' -- remember?
And how many times has it been over the last months? Come on... Tell
me!"

Meg allowed herself another sigh, while making a note not to overdo it.

"Darling, I am sorry. You know we've been having problems. It's really
not my fault, as you know perfectly well. It won't last forever."

"No? So how long *will* it last?!"

"I wish I knew. I can only hope..."

"There! And in the meantime you boot me out of my own house for a whole
night damn near regularly once a week! And you are surprised that I get
angry?"

For a while they ate in tense silence. Finally, Joe pushed away his
plate, leaned back on the chair and said: "Look, I am sorry I shouted,
but I really meant it. I am not spending another night in a cheapo
hotel..."

"You never do!"

"...and don't interrupt me! The answer is no, and that's final."

Despite everything, Meg could not help wincing. Joe knew as well as she
did that she would never force him to comply, as was in her power to do
one way or another. There was no way he could be sure the same applied
to the rest of the Circle.

"And have you considered how my guests would react to that?" she asked
angrily.

"They are *guests*, remember? There are traditions about that!"

Joe did have a point, but Meg wasn't at all sure whether the likes of
Amanda would stop considering traditional niceties before venting her
disapproval in some unfortunate manner. Not that it mattered...

"Besides," continued Joe, feeling his momentary advantage, "What they
don't know can't hurt them." To his surprise, it was clearly the wrong
thing to say. Meg just looked at him and the look spelt out volumes
about just how idiotically dumb-headed that last remark was. Joe glared
back until Meg got up to clear the empty plates off the table.

"Do you want a yoghurt?" she asked from the fridge.

"What kinds have we got left?"

"Only apricot."

"Fine by me... I'll have one."

Meg fetched two yoghurts and two teaspoons and settled herself back at
the table.

"Darling, if you are contemplating lurking in the house you don't know
what you are talking about. Your male Yang would stand out like a totem
pole even if I hid you in the cellar behind three padlocks."

"Yang, Yang, Yin, Yin... That's just words you hang on your abilities.
Things are things..."

"Rot!..."

"... and if my 'Yang' stands out so -- disguise it somehow! You are
supposed to be a witch, after all!"

Meg opened her mouth and then shut it with a snap. She felt like
giggling, but didn't dare. She felt like many other things too --
crying being definitely one of them, and that would have been even
worse. So she fixed Joe with a thoughtful look instead.

"I could, you know!"

"So, what's the problem? You do that, I get a good night's sleep and
everybody's happy! I wish I'd kicked up fuss before now. Women!"

With a triumphant look, Joe dug his spoon into the yoghurt. He was
pleased with himself. Meg ate in silence. Finally, licking off the
last spoonful, she said:

"You *really* would want me to do that?"

Joe looked up. It was typical of Meg to start wriggling almost
immediately. The classic female trick -- if you don't want to do
something, persuade your man that *he* thinks it is not a good idea. He
had to stand firm. But... Why was it he was getting the feeling he was
about to lose the argument after all?

"Yeah, why not?" he asked challengingly.

"Because there's only one way I can disguise your Yang -- by replacing
it with a Yin for a while."

Joe looked bland: "Yeah -- so? You are hiding behind words again." She
was *NOT* getting around him this time.

"So. That would turn you into a woman for the duration. See?"

Joe stared. Meg smirked. She clearly thought she had him, and by
golly, she was not far wrong! It was intolerable and Joe squared his
shoulders and said: "So? Maybe I've been having this hankering for
femininity all these years. Sitting in the closet, you know."

Meg laughed, got up, collected the yoghurt pots, dumped them in the bin,
dumped the spoons in dirty mugs filled with water by the sink. Then she
walked behind Joe's chair and buried her fingers in his hair.

"You are a rotten liar, and you know it," she said pulling his head back
and planting an upside-down kiss on his nose. Joe grinned at her
upwards. "But," she continued, "you showed disrespect to my calling and
this 'supposed to be a witch' really ought to teach you a lesson."

She let go of Joe and moved back to the sink. He got off his chair and
sauntered over to the teapot, stretched past Meg to fill it with water,
and switched it on.

"Seriously, though..." he said.

Meg turned round and put a finger on his lips: "Not a word! It's
settled."

Joe's mouth opened... and shut again. He found himself profoundly
unsure how to react. Was she expecting *him* to throw a fit? He knew
perfectly well what his wife was capable of. He'd seen proofs enough of
her powers, even when not augmented by the formidable powers of the
Circle. But it had been an unwritten law in their relationship that Meg
never used her witchery to his disadvantage. Did he push things too
far this time? How come? It couldn't have been such a big deal for
her!

Seeing the doubt reflected in his eyes, Meg laughed and moved up to him,
putting her hands around his butt and her forehead against his.

"You big baby," she said. "You scared I'll do something to you against
your will?"

"No, no... Of course not!" said Joe swallowing.

"But you did sort of agree to it."

"Only before you spelt out the implications..."

Meg pressed herself against him and was amused, but not really surprised,
to feel Joe's erection.

"So you didn't mean it."

"Er... No. Not really."

"What do you mean, 'not really'?"

"I mean, 'no'."

"So why," whispered Meg nibbling his left ear, "are you so excited about
it?"

"I am not! Well... I mean... Why shouldn't I be excited when my wife
presses herself against me in a meaningful manner and starts eating my
earlobes?"

"I tell you, darling, you are a rotten liar." She reached with her lips
for his ear again. "I'll do you a deal, OK? Say yes, and I'll turn you
into the most beautiful woman in the world -- your own wet dream come
true."

"You are my wet dream!"

"Liar! Liar! You think flattery can get you anything, don't you?"

"This is ridiculous!"

"You are being ridiculous."

"No I am not!"

"Oh yes you are! I am offering you the solution you wanted, and it's a
nicely naughty one too - I wish it'd crossed my mind before. You get a
night at home and we both get a look at your dream female. It's only
for the night anyway. You can be yourself again as soon as they are
gone."

"And I am supposed to buy this? What's the point of meeting my dream
sex object and being unable to screw her?"

"Joe, Joe...," laughed Meg, now quite sure of herself. "I am positive
you'll find a way around that. Come on, don't tell me you have one of
those fragile masculine egos that go all to pieces at a mere hint of an
unmanly experience. I wouldn't have loved you if you had one."

The kettle, which had been blowing steam for a while, finally decided to
switch itself off. They both ignored it.

"Look, Meg... I mean, no... I mean, can't you see it would be wrong?"

Meg started shaking her head but Joe went on.

"Look, I know myself well enough. Please, listen... It's not that.
It's... Don't you think I don't realise that my dream bimbo is really a
ridiculous looking creature?"

That was a degree of insight Meg didn't really expect. Well, it made
things simpler - all well and good. She cocked her head to one side
thoughtfully and said: "Hmm... You do have a point there. Too much of
a good thing isn't wonderful."

"Well, there... It was a nice thought, but..."

"...But I have another one. I take your point entirely. OK. It'd be
harder for me, but it is an interesting challenge. Suppose I turn you
into a woman you would want to be if you were one. How about that?"

Meg was gratified to feel Joe's erection harden again. There was
something buried in that masculine psyche of his that positively
luxuriated in the thought of becoming female... Strange, but
convenient. Perhaps it was indeed true of men in general, she thought
ruefully.

"Isn't that a bit circular?" said Joe doubtfully, "I mean, not being
one, I have no idea..."

"Well, no, neither do I. Makes it more interesting, doesn't? Leave the
how of it to me. Come on, darling. I am now curious. And you are
curious too. I know you too well not to see that you are..."

She hugged Joe to herself and he hugged her back. Meg could practically
hear Joe mulling it around in his head, and had no compunctions about
loading the odds by nursing his erection with slight movements of her
body. When Joe finally broke the embrace, there was no need to say
anything. They both knew he agreed.

It'll hardly surprise a perceptive reader, that on that particular night
their love-making was unusually intense and satisfying to both parties.
Setting a new precedent, we shall not dwell on the details.

                                 * * *

"Yes, yes... tomorrow." Lucy sounded quite uncharacteristically
excited, thought Amanda with disapproval.

"Fine." she said, "I'll make sure there are no slackers at tomorrow's
meeting. We'll need all our strength and all our presence of mind, I
shouldn't be surprised."

"Getting together at Betty's first, is it?" asked Lucy's voice
anxiously.

"Yes, as arranged." said Amanda and firmly put the phone down. Lucy was
definitely beginning to get on her nerves. Of course, they were all on
edge, ever since losing Joan so stupidly in that unexpected attack. For
once, however, things were beginning to look up. Just as well. It
would be a relief NOT to be in charge again.

(End of Part 1)


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