From user23@primenet.com Thu Feb 06 16:31:03 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Lisa's TG Library: "April"
From: user23@primenet.com (Lisa Blades)
Date: 6 Feb 1997 14:31:03 -0700

APRIL

This is a fantasy, nothing more (at least most of it).I sit here in my slik 
lounging PJ's and think 
about the events which have led me to be comfortable with myself as I am.  It 
hasn't been an 
easy road to travel, but it has yielded some good results. . . and I am 
happy!I've been 
crossdressing since I was a little girl of about 10.  My sister's huge closet 
filled with so many 
pretty clothes made me jealous.  Eventually I started trying some of them on.  
It was partly to 
satisfy my envy and partly to escape the abuse we all suffered under the hand 
of my stepfather . 
. . abuse which, for the most part she seemed to be spared.  I was sure that I 
was in for more of 
it when I was caught one day by my older brother!  But he didn't say 
anything.As the years went 
by I crossdressed off and on, discovering in the process my mother's lingerie 
drawer.  Her taste 
in lingerie was "primitive," certainly not my own.  But at least it was there.  
It was there that I first 
came to cherish the feel of panties, stockings, and a brassiere cupped around 
my small 
"breasts."  Later, after I had moved out on my own and had bought a few items 
of lingerie for 
myself, I looked back on those days with a sad fondness coupled with chagrin.  
Chagrin at the 
thought of the unflattering and unpretty things she had chosen to wear.  
Fondness at the 
memories of the gentle but anxious discovery of my own body and longings.After 
many years I 
came to the point where I could no longer control the urge to crossdress.  It 
seemingly came and 
went of its own accord.  I finally decided that this was a part of who I am and 
that I needed to 
explore and get to know this part of me.  In my explorations I was introduced 
to Maria.  Maria ran 
a place called The Farm. The Farm is a place, away from any major cities, where 
men are 
taught to be women.  It's where you can cease to be male and immerse yourself 
in femininity, 
becoming a woman in "body", in mind, and in psyche.  You learn to look, act, 
think, and feel like 
a woman.  It is an experiential place, you learn by doing and by 
experiencing.Maria is a post-op 
transsexual in her late 40's or early 50's.  She made a similar journey to each 
of us ending, of 
course, with the complete and total transformation to woman-hood.  She started 
The Farm after 
she realized that there are so many of us who are struggling to come to grips 
with our femininity 
and who are seeking to find out its place in our lives.  She doesn't try to 
convince anyone to 
become female.  She doesn't claim to be a counseling center for TS's, although 
she does hold a 
Ph.D. in clinical psychology.  this is simply a place to explore and learn 
about a part of yourself.I 
first learned of The Farm from my friend, Kara, who had been there.  She is a 
magnificent 
woman.  Her male persona, Bill, arranged an introduction to her female persona 
via a blind  
date.  We found we had much in common and became good frineds.  The 
transformation from 
male to female was so complete that I thought that these were two completely 
different people.  
I didn't find out that they weren't until I had been friends with each persona 
for several weeks.  
After we had known each other for many months Kara decided to tell me about The 
Farm.  The 
number of people who know about this place is few.  The number who have been 
there is far 
fewer.  Maria is very careful about who she sees and helps.Kara introduced me 
to Maria.  I had 
to come as a male and make the transformation to female in front of Maria.  She 
interviewed me 
first as a man and then, after my transformation, as a woman.  I had to 
convince Maria that I had 
the time to devote to The Farm and the desire to see this experience through to 
the end.  Maria 
explained that we were always free to leave if we should decide to.  But she 
didn't like starting 
with someone who turned out to not be serious about becoming truly 
feminine.Somehow I 
managed to convince Maria and the next month I bade goodbye to Kara and left 
for The Farm.  I 
had no idea what I was in for but I was very excited about whatever was in 
store.The FarmWhen 
I arrived at the airport I was met by a large black limousine with windows 
tinted so dark that I 
was sure it belonged to the Mafia . . . or the Secret Service.  Inside I found 
three other men.  We 
exchanged nervous glances and sat in silence as we rode to the Farm.  As the 
door closed 
behind me, I realized that the windows were not only too dark to see inside, 
they were too dark 
to see clearly outside as well.  We traveled for about three hours. After the 
first hour the four of 
us finally started to talk.  We were all scared and unsure about our decision.  
Interestingly, no 
one really talked about why they were there (although we all knew) and no one 
said their femme 
name.  We seemingly pretended that we were going somewhere else.We arrived 
eventually at 
The Farm.  We were met by some very polite young men and women who took our 
luggage, 
gave us some preliminary information, and asked us to be seated in the main 
conference 
room.In the conference room we found several others waiting.  There were about 
12 of us in all.  
After a few minutes Maria arrived and asked us to be seated.  She explained 
that we were free 
to leave at any time.  All we had to do was ask and we would be taken home at 
no expense to 
us.  We were also asked to sign a statement of non-disclosure guaranteeing that 
we would not 
openly divulge to the general public the whereabouts of The Farm or what 
happened there.Next 
Maria went into many of the same topics we had each been trying to deal with:  
Are we gay?  
Are we TS?  She explained that popular pornography degrades TV's and TS's to 
the point that it 
is seen as a perversion by most people, to include many TV's and TS's.  She had 
dealt with this 
for many years before coming to grips with her own identity and choosing to 
become Maria in 
body as well as in soul.  Her sole purpose at The Farm was to help us each 
realize what being 
TV's meant, what being female meant, and, possibly, to help us deal with 
questions beyond 
that.  She said emphatically that The Farm was not there to convince any of us 
to become 
female (TS), or to convince any of us who weren't already to become gay, or to 
in any way mess 
us up mentally.  The Farm was a place of experiential learning.  This was 
crucial, she explained, 
because women were not only biologically different from men, but they had been 
raised 
differently as well.  It was indeed a rare woman who had grown up with the 
freedom to chose 
that a man was given, regardless of the subject.  Women were also indoctrinated 
in behaviors 
such as being subservient to men, taking care of the basic common business of 
life, different 
sexual behaviors, and so on.  In order to make the full transition into a 
female role, we would 
have to understand that psychological side of being feminine as well as the 
physical side of 
clothing, behavior, and makeup. We would each have to deal with the experiences 
in our own 
way.  Maria and her staff were there to help us if we needed it and to stop any 
treatment which 
we felt was manipulative and harmful.  She and her staff would be checking in 
with each of us 
periodically to see how we were dealing with the situations we would find 
ourselves in.  They 
also, she explained, had the prerogative to remove any of us from the program 
if they thought 
that we weren't dealing with things in a healthy manner.With that she 
introduced us to the staff.  
We were told of the general program.  There was no specified time limit for 
completion.  We 
could be finished in as little as four weeks or we might stay there as long as 
four months.  A few 
had stayed even longer.  We would receive instruction is makeup, hair, 
clothing, behavior, etc. 
as part of the program.  The real learning, though, came from working with 
these variables in the 
real world.  The Farm would provide a safe semblance of the real world in which 
we could 
practice before being re-introduced to our normal real world. The Fun BeginsThe 
first week was 
all classes.  We were evaluated for and taught our proper makeup colors and 
techniques.  We 
were taught about wigs, although we were encouraged to find a style for our 
natural hair.  We 
were taught about clothing and shoes.  We were prescribed diets to help us slim 
down to a 
more feminine size and put into exercise programs to shape specific areas of 
our bodies which 
didn't naturally look all that feminine.  In short, we were being taught to 
look like the women we 
had always thought we should be.  It was hard for many of us, but our desire 
was deep and we 
stayed with it.  After only a week I began to see dramatic changes in the way I 
looked, walked, 
even felt.  There were no drugs or hormones given.  Such treatments, Maria 
explained, were 
outside the charter of The Farm.  If we wanted those treatments we would have 
to seek them 
elsewhere.  She could provide referals if we desired.BradAll of our male attire 
was placed in 
sealed bags and stored for us.  When we left it would be returned to us.  While 
at The Farm we 
wore female attire exclusively.  The first week it was mostly casual attire, 
warm-ups and such, 
but we did get to wear dresses on occasion.  Sunday evening of the first week 
we were given a 
cocktail party to celebrate our success during that week.  The dress was, of 
course, cocktail 
dresses, etc.  We all arrived looking quite female and very different from when 
we had arrived 
only a week earlier.We were surprised to find men at the party.  Not the staff 
whom we had 
become comfortable with, but other men dressed in appropriate masculine attire 
as well.  These 
men quickly introduced themselves to us and conversations were well underway 
when Maria 
arrived.  We were invited into the dining room were a lovely candlelight 
banquet was set for us.  
We each found ourselves sitting with men in foursomes.  The men at our tables 
were the ones 
we had been conversing with the most.  I suddenly felt like a pick-up.  I was a 
little upset by this 
but, at the same time, flattered by the thought that this man would find me 
attractive enough to 
meet and to pick up.  I wondered what he would expect.We dined and the 
conversation was 
friendly and comfortable.  We drank wine and chatted after dinner for what 
seemed like forever.  
Everyone seemed to be forming actual couples although there didn't seem to be 
any pressure to 
do so.  After a while Maria stood  and spoke.  She told us that the gentlemen 
with whom we had 
been talking were long-time associates of hers and The Farm's.  They were part 
of the program 
whenever they could make the time to do so.  These gentlemen had consented to 
join us for the 
next few weeks.  It was up to us to form relationships with these men and find 
one who was 
compatible with us.  We were expected to date and, perhaps even live together.  
we would be 
taught more about being female by these gentlemen over the next few weeks as we 
practiced 
the first weeks teachings in a "real world" environment.  No word was 
specifically said about 
sex.After that Maria bid us good evening and wished us the best for the next 
few weeks.As 
dinner broke up I found myself walking with a strikingly handsome man named 
Brad.  Brad and I 
had several common interests from both work and non-work activities.  We 
strolled about the 
grounds for a long time.  Finally he took my hand, kissed it sweetly, and said 
that he would like 
to be my partner.  I said that I would like that.  He kissed me lightly on the 
lips.  We turned to 
walk some more, me holding his arm.  We encountered several other couples who 
were also 
walking arm-in-arm.  Everything seemed so romantic and beautiful.Brad and I 
agreed to date for 
the next week or so and see where that went.  In short order we found ourselves 
at my room.  It 
was late and I needed to get to bed, but I hated to leave this romantic 
situation.  I was also 
worried about being asked to have sex with Brad, although there had been no 
overt mention of it 
by him.  Brad spoke softly and sweetly, wishing me a good evening. He kissed me 
gently but 
fully on the lips.  I found myself moving toward him and returning his kiss, my 
arms going around 
his neck.  When we parted I was no longer sure that I DIDN'T want this 
beautiful man to come 
inside with me.  Brad ended my quandary by saying goodnight and leaving.The 
next morning I 
sat with my friends at breakfast prior to attending the days regimen of 
exercise and classes.  The 
talk was, of course, all about last evenings events.  They each had had similar 
experiences.  We 
were all in wonder of what would come next.  A few, who were gay, had actually 
had sex with 
their partners and were planning to move in with them the next day or two.  I 
left breakfast 
wondering if we were all really expected to follow suit.  I found myself 
working extra hard during 
exercise class and paying a little more attention to the other classes that 
morning.I met Brad for 
lunch, as we had planned.  He was just as sweet as the evening before and I 
found myself 
wanting to drown in his deep blue eyes.  He gave me no pressure to do anything 
and, after a 
while, I found myself wondering if there was anything wrong with me.  He 
glanced away once 
and I looked where he had.  I saw another of us girls and became immediately 
jealous.  I 
suggested that we leave the cafe and go somewhere else.That afternoon we went 
horseback 
riding.  I discovered new ways to sit with my penis pushed down between my 
legs.  After a while 
I had to pull it back up and out of the way.  Brad told me that there was a 
dance that evening and 
asked if I would attend with him.  I, of course, said that I would.  Brad was 
just as sweet all 
during the ride.  Still no pressure.  Ours was fast becoming a platonic-plus 
relationship.  I 
sensed that he would enjoy having sex with me but that he would not ask.  I 
still wondered if 
there wasn't something wrong with me.We returned from the ride about 3:30.  The 
dance was at 
8:00 and Brad wanted to go to dinner before.  We agreed that he would pick me 
up at 7:00 for 
dinner.  I rushed home to bathe and get dressed.  Now I was looking back over 
my notes on 
makeup, hair, dress, even how to walk, talk, and eat like a "lady."  I found 
myself eagerly 
anticipating our date and wondering where it would end.  I was determined to 
make sure that 
Brad noticed no other girl there but me!A Loss Of InnocenceAt 7:00 on the 
button Brad showed 
up at my room.  I was dressed in an strapless pink evening dress, tea length 
with a short white 
jacket with half sleeves.  The neckline was deep in the front and deeper in the 
back.  
Underneath I had a strapless bra to accommodate the necklines while still 
maintaining breast 
forms in place, G-String panties, garters and stockings.  My shoes matched the 
dress and had 2 
inch heels.  My hair was not long enough for a suitable style so I wore a 
shoulder length wig that 
matched my own natural reddish-auburn hair color.Brad was resplendent in his 
black tux.  He 
complimented me on my dress, makeup, and hair.  He had a corsage for me which I 
let him pin 
onto my jacket.  I was blushing the entire time, feeling like a schoolgirl 
going to her first prom.  
We walked to dinner arm-in-arm as I felt my walk change with each step.  My 
bottom was really 
swaying and I couldn't seem to control it.  In truth, I didn't want to control 
it.  I was really starting 
to feel feminine and enjoyed being with Brad.At dinner we sat alone.  Brad 
doted on me totally.  I 
loved the attention and could have sat there for hours.  I don't even remember 
what we had to 
eat.  But the dance started and we had to go.  We had covered dancing during 
the first week 
and had practiced some.  Still, I had never actually danced with a man like 
this and was a little 
nervous.  Brad took me in his arms and swept me away on air (at least it seemed 
like it).  We 
danced without stopping for more than an hour.  Finally, a little tired, we 
went for a drink.  As I 
waited for Brad to return with our drinks, I saw that most of the others were 
there with their dates 
as well.  Some were snuggled in a corner and were obviously making plans for 
after the dance, 
if not during.  As Brad returned, a couple of my friends came by on the way to 
the Ladies Room.  
I excused myself and joined them.  We talked about our dates and how things 
were going.  I 
found out that one of them had already agreed to move in with her partner and 
that the other was 
seriously thinking about it.  I mumbled something about not wanting to appear 
too easy and all 
that.  My friends smiled acceptance.  Still, I was a little uncomfortable with 
their reaction.I 
returned to find Brad talking with another of my friends . . . the same one he 
had looked at 
earlier.  I joined the conversation and quickly steered it away from their 
topic and onto the plans 
Brad and I had made earlier.  I wanted her gone from the conversation as 
quickly as possible.  
She finally left after saying something about seeing Brad around.  I thought, 
"over my dead body, 
Bitch!"We finished our drinks and returned to the dance floor.  We danced for 
another hour and 
then decided to leave.  It was getting late and the dance would be ending in 
another half hour or 
so, anyway.  As we walked back to my room, Brad put his arm around me and 
snuggled me 
closely.  I didn't resist.  We reached a particularly pretty and romantic spot 
and he stopped, 
turned, drew me close, and kissed me deeply on the lips.  I drew closer to him 
and felt his erect 
penis hard against me.  I smiled knowing that I could arouse him after all.  We 
finished the kiss 
and without a word he held me close.  I was so relieved that he could get 
excited over me.  I 
noticed that he seemed to be looking in another direction and pulled apart to 
look that way 
myself.  I saw another couple who had been walking by.  The man had left for a 
moment to do 
something and she was standing there alone, looking our way.  Brad was looking 
at her!  I got 
so angry that I almost wanted to hit him.  I realized, though, that the way to 
keep him from 
looking at others was to make him think only of me.  I pulled him back into 
another kiss and 
pressed myself up against him as firmly as I could.  He responded by pulling me 
closer still and 
pressing his really hard penis against me, rubbing it gently around.  We kissed 
there for a long 
time.  I finally decided that I wanted, no needed, to have sex with Brad.  I 
wanted him to think 
only of me.  All thoughts of the ramifications of this decision left me.  
Besides, all my friends 
were either moving in with their partners or thinking hard about doing so.  
They were all certainly 
having sex with them.  It was all just part of being a woman.  Right?I led Brad 
to my room and 
asked him to come in.  He asked if I was sure.  Taking his hand I said, "Yes, 
I'm sure."Brad 
entered my room and immediately took charge.  I was a little dizzy from my 
decision and the 
tension of the moment and I yielded totally to him.  He kissed me all over, our 
passion rising.  I 
dropped to my knees, pulled down his pants, and took him into my mouth, trying 
desperately to 
please him.  He came quickly and collapsed into a chair.  Breathing hard, he 
told me to go into 
the bedroom and get changed, he would be there in a moment.I changed into a 
favorite red 
nightgown.  Checked my makeup, hair, and put on a pair of red 3 inch heels.  As 
I turned on 
some soft music, Brad entered the room. He had drinks for us one of which he 
gave to me.  
Then he took off all of his clothes.  I took a deep drink, and settled onto the 
bed.  Brad was 
sweet and tender and gentle.  He brought me to the brink of ecstasy over and 
over.  Having 
already come, he was slower to peak than I was.  Finally, I could stand it no 
longer and came as 
intensely as I ever have.  I was so emotionally attached to Brad at that moment 
that, when he 
asked me to roll over, I eagerly complied.  He massaged my backside and spoke 
soothingly to 
me.  As I relaxed, Brad continued to massage me and nibble my back and neck.  
Soon he 
spread me and entered my bottom.  I was expecting the pain but was still 
surprised when it 
came.  I also found myself pushing back toward him.  Soon the pain began to 
subside and I felt 
him going in and out of me, reaching deeply into me.  The thought that I was 
having sex with this 
man made me even more excited!  Soon I had another erection and was building 
toward a 
climax.  Brad came inside me and I thought that I was going to come as well.  
When I didn't, I 
reached down to help myself along.  I felt Brad's firm hand cover mine and he 
help me 
masturbate until I came again.Brad withdrew and snuggled with me.  I lay there 
feeling so much 
a part of this beautiful man.  I wanted this moment to last forever.  I thought 
about how feminine I 
felt right then.Soon Brad got up to leave.  I asked if he really had to go.  He 
said something 
about it not being proper for him to stay the night under these circumstances 
and left.  I let him 
go but missed him immediately.The next morning I met my friends at breakfast 
again.  They both 
remarked immediately about the difference in the way I looked.  I confessed 
that I had given up 
my virginity last night and they congratulated me.  We talked during the meal 
about the 
evening's events, including sex, and went on to the day's activities.We were 
still exercising and 
learning makeup and hair tips.  We were also being left alone more and more.  
At first this was 
okay.  But now that everyone was getting into serious relationships, there were 
fewer people to 
fill the free time with.CouplingBrad didn't meet me for lunch that day.  He 
left me a note about 
some business he had to attend to and said that he would meet me for dinner.  I 
sat at the 
restaurant alone waiting for him.  Everyone else was in a couple and I felt 
conspicuously alone.  
I was afraid that I had been too easy with Brad last night.  Did he think I was 
disposable or 
what?Brad showed up 30 minutes late for dinner.  I was furious but afraid to 
show it.  He 
apologized and said that he had been detained, nothing more.  I decided then 
and there that we 
needed to be together.  The question was how to get him to ask me.We talked 
about how the 
program was going and the conversation turned to how everyone had so quickly 
coupled.  I said 
that everyone seemed so happy . . . I was glad for them.  Brad asked if I 
wasn't happy for us and 
I replied that I had really missed him that afternoon.  I kind of wondered if 
he still wanted me.  I 
felt on the verge of crying and feeling so ashamed for losing control 
there.Brad asked me what 
would make me feel better.  I replied that I didn't know.  He said that the 
only we could spend 
more time together was if we moved in together.  I quickly asked if he was 
asking me to move in 
with him.  He hesitated a moment and replied that he was.  Then I really began 
to cry.We left the 
restaurant soon after that and went to his apartment.  We had incredible sex 
and I stayed the 
night with him.  The next day I told my friends at breakfast and they agreed to 
help me move that 
afternoon.The next couple of weeks with Brad were heaven.  He doted on me and 
helped me 
make my transformation each morning.  Soon I wasn't changing back at all.  He 
had favorite 
outfits and I wore them whenever I could.  He had favorite hairstyles and I 
fixed them whenever I 
could.  He had favorite meals and I started cooking in his apartment, trying to 
have it ready when 
he returned in the afternoon.  I began to feel very much like a wife.  I was 
very happy.The 
Beginning Of The EndAfter a couple of week, though, Brad began to treat me a 
little differently.  
He didn't say much when he was home and he was sometimes unresponsive in bed.  
Sometimes he would wake up in the night, roll me over and simply take me . . . 
then go back to 
sleep!  I began to wonder what was wrong with me!  What had I done?Brad began 
to criticize 
the way I looked.  He thought that my waist wasn't small enough.  My face 
looked too full.  My 
natural hair wasn't as long as he liked it.  I became very insecure and didn't 
know what to do to 
please him.  Then one day I found a phone number on his chest-of-drawers.  I 
called it and was 
answered by the "friend" who had so distracted him early on.  The SOB was 
having an affair on 
me!I confronted Brad that evening.  He dismissed me as being crazy.  He said 
that I was 
imagining things because of talking with my friends.  I was seething mad.  Brad 
said that he 
didn't have to put up with this shit and threatened to throw me out.I 
immediately became afraid 
of what my other friends would say if they thought that I had botched my 
relationship with Brad.  
I immediately imagined that the "friend" he had been seeing would be there to 
take my place 
almost before I was out the door.  I became very insecure as I tried to imagine 
life without Brad . 
. . without a man.Brad put on his jacket and left.  I asked where he was going 
and he said, 
"OUT!"  I cried for an hour after he left.  Then I went to bed.  I heard him 
coming in late that night.  
I rushed to fix myself up for him, determined to make things up to him and win 
him back.  He 
came in, having had too much to drink, and simply took me.  He had me go down 
on him and 
then roll over and spread my bottom.  He took me until he came again.  There 
was no romance, 
no tenderness.  I was devastated.  I felt cheapened and degraded.  But I didn't 
know what else to 
do.The next morning I awoke to find that Brad was gone.  He had cleaned out his 
things and left 
during the night.  I was even more devastated than before!  I moved back to my 
room and stayed 
there for the next 2 days.  My friends came by to see me after the second day.  
They said that 
Maria had asked about me and had asked them to convince me to join them for 
breakfast at the 
cafe for the first time in weeks.  I was so terribly depressed and hurt and 
insecure.  That morning 
we were told that we were to assemble in the main conference room at 
10:00.RecoveryMaria 
came in and said that we had each experienced a microcosm of what it was like 
to be a woman 
in today's world.  If we truly wanted to function as women occasionally or 
full-time, we were 
headed for similar experiences.  "The point," she said, "is to be able to 
handle ourselves in 
society and form healthy relationships with others. This is especially 
necessary in light of the 
fact that we were open to abuse by so many others.""Now," she continued, "is 
the time to 
understand what we might encounter and to develop defenses for dealing with it. 
 Hopefully, we 
would learn how to avoid some of the situations we had just encountered 
altogether."Someone 
asked if it wasn't cruel of her to subject us to this pain.  Maria replied, 
"How can I tell you what it 
is like?  The only way you can appreciate what has happened to you is to have 
felt it for 
yourselves.  You had to go through the insecurity, the pain, and the 
uncertainty of competing 
with other women, even your own friends, in order to know and fully understand 
these feelings." 
She then told us that all was not as bleak as it appeared.  We would spend the 
next week or two 
in group and, if necessary, individual sessions exploring how we felt and how 
we could have 
dealt more effectively with our feelings and the situations.  During that time 
we would explore 
whether we should remain there at The Farm.  After that we would try again.The 
next couple of 
weeks were tough ones.  I found that I could not easily talk about what a SOB 
Brad had been.  I 
even defended him at first, blaming the "friend."  Slowly I opened up and 
talked out my feelings 
and fears when he told me he would discard me.  How I had felt pressure to move 
in with him 
and have sex with him because I thought all my friends were doing it, too.  
Ever so slowly I 
began to surface my anger at the unfairness of it all.  I was angry with Brad 
for being able to hurt 
me so.  I was angry with myself for having gotten into the situation.  I was 
angry with myself for 
not knowing how to deal with it when it happened.  I was angry with myself for 
having done the 
same things to women in my life.  I was angry because I knew that there was 
nothing, from a 
societal point of view, that could be done to Brad.  That is just the way women 
are so often 
treated.Eventually I began to get over my anger.  My friends were there for me 
and I was there 
for them.  We leaned on each other a lot and we made it through.  One decided 
to leave The 
Farm.  We had a farewell lunch for her/him.  S/he told us that s/he wasn't sure 
if the she would 
remain after all of this.  But when we were through at the farm, if we didn't 
mind, he would be 
glad to take any of us out for dinner as a graduation present.  And he left 
us.Maria assured us 
that there was follow-on counseling and therapy provided in case he still had 
trouble dealing 
with his emotions.  She said we shouldn't be surprised to see him at The Farm 
again someday. 
Maria explained that, now that we understood what had happened to us, we would 
be learning 
new ways to establish more rewarding relationships with men AND women.  
Eventually, we 
would be given the opportunity to try to do this again.We spent the next week 
looking at the 
dynamics that had taken place.  We practiced meeting men, fending off their 
unwanted 
advances, attracting the attention of those we wanted, even negotiating a 
relationship based on 
respect and caring.  A New BeginningThen, one day, a couple of men appeared at 
lunch.  We 
were all surprised since Maria hadn't said anything and, of course, we weren't 
wearing much 
makeup.  The next day we all showed up looking good, but no men.  Still, we 
started taking 
better care of ourselves.  The dieting and exercise had paid off and we were 
all looking pretty 
feminine.  Everyone had shaved their bodies and some wore garments to reduce 
certain body 
parts while enhancing others.  After another couple days, a couple more men 
appeared at lunch.  
We began to practice our new-found skills (feminine wiles, if you will) on 
these "unsuspecting" 
men.  We completely forgot that they were obviously part of the program.  Over 
the next several 
days more and more men appeared at The Farm.  Some came back regularly to visit 
and 
relationships were formed with several of us.I met a couple of very nice men as 
well as a couple 
of real losers.  I found out that the skills we had developed were effective, 
but that they weren't 
as easy to use with an unwilling partner.  Still, I was learning . . . we all 
were.We found out that, 
if we invited them, the men could come stay at The Farm.  The trick was that, 
in order to stay, 
we had to invite them to live with us.  Then they could move in.Some of the 
girls made such an 
invitation.  The men moved in.  A couple began to try and play the field.  The 
result was that they 
were tossed out on their ears.  Yes, we were learning.  The few men who 
remained were faithful 
to their partners.  Others continued to visit and we continued to "date."  Most 
of us were very 
careful after that, though, to make sure before we committed even the 
slightest.I got to know one 
very nice looking man pretty well.  After several dates he began to make sexual 
advances.  I 
hadn't had sex for a number of weeks, not since Brad, and I surprised myself by 
agreeing to 
have sex with him.  The sex was good but I found that I wasn't really all that 
impressed.  
Certainly he was well endowed and was tender and caring and all that.  But I 
just wasn't that 
interested.  Perhaps "driven" is a better word.  Then he began to take me for 
granted.  He had 
obviously had a good time with me.  He began talking about how much fun we 
could have if we 
were together all the time.  Then he called me "sweetcheeks."  I got him up and 
dressed and out 
the door.  Then I shut and locked it behind him and went back to bed.  He never 
came back to 
The Farm.I found that I was thinking about women I had known previously and I 
missed them.  I 
hadn't been gay when I arrived and I came to the conclusion that I wasn't gay 
now.  Still, I very 
much enjoyed the feeling of feminine attire.  I really enjoyed getting 
attention from the men . . . 
and got my fair share of it.  I went to talk to Maria about this.Maria 
explained that not all TV's are 
gay.  For that matter, not all TS's are gay or decide to seek the company of 
men after they 
change.  It would follow, based on what I had told her, that I was basically a 
hetero TV.  I liked 
girls, I just liked to be one, too.That worked for me. The trick, then, was how 
to find a woman 
who could enjoy being with me as a woman as well as a man.  Maria explained 
that that was a 
very difficult task.  She recommended that I try to remember how it felt being 
a victim as a 
woman and use that knowledge to help me find someone and to establish a 
meaningful, fruitful 
relationship.A week or two later, several of us were asked to go to the main 
conference room.  
There Maria told us that we had that we had each reached what she considered to 
be the peak 
of our experiential learning from The Farm.  We were ready to return to our 
outside worlds.  We 
were also free to stay longer if we wished.  All but one of us decided that she 
was right and 
decided to leave.Maria asked me to remain after the others had left.  She asked 
if I had come to 
any conclusions about finding a partner back in my real world.  I told her that 
I had some 
preliminary plans but nothing concrete.  I told her that I was scared.Maria 
assured me that my 
fear was normal.  She also reassured me that I easily passed as a woman.  
Flattered, I thanked 
her and left.The Farm had a graduation party for those of us who had opted to 
leave.  We were 
shown videos of ourselves as we came in, thinking that we were oh-so feminine, 
and videos of 
ourselves during the past 2 days.  What a difference eight weeks can make!  As 
we loaded the 
limo for the trip to the airport, Maria gave each of us an envelope containing 
contacts in our area.  
These were part of a network of Farm graduates who would help us and be there 
for us.  We 
were also told that we would be expected to do the same for others one day.  
Attendance at The 
Farm is a privilege extended to very few, we were told.  We must be very 
careful whom we told 
about The farm and even more careful about whom we refered to attend.In my 
envelope was 
also a letter from Brad.  He apologized for how he had treated me and said 
that, if I could forgive 
him, he would love to see me again someday.  I smiled knowing that I might 
certainly see him 
again but that the next time would be very different.  But I was in no 
particular hurry . . . Brad 
could wait .  . . I didn't need him that way anymore.Since I left The Farm I 
have had several 
relationships with women.  They were good, better than those before.  But only 
one has lasted.  
Catherine remarked to me one day that I was especially sensitive toward how she 
felt, more so 
than any other man she had been with.  I told her that I had had help.  When 
she asked what 
kind of help, I changed the subject.  Several weeks later she asked again.  
When I changed the 
subject she persisted and eventually told her almost everything.  Catherine was 
fascinated and 
asked to see my things.  Soon we were playing dress-up and having a ball.  She 
said that she 
saw me as her grown-up Barbie.  I took exception and we had a long talk about 
our relationship.  
Since then, we have not taken each other for granted or trivialized each other 
in any way.  
Sometimes she buys me clothes and sometimes we go shopping together as women.  
When 
we are out together we often attract the attention of men.  We flirt 
outrageously but never let it 
get out of hand.  We are very faithful to each other and our relationship.  The 
relationship is 
solid, the sex is terrific, and I really do love her.Before Catherine I had 
wondered if my reaction to 
sex with men was because of my experiences with Brad.  I had sought a couple of 
sex partners 
and tried again.  It was good, but not enough to last.  I even saw Brad one 
time.  He was as 
beautiful as ever, but the attraction was just not there.  I discovered that I 
was, indeed, a hetero 
TV.  Now Catherine and I are together.  We don't live together but we 
frequently stay over at 
each other's apartment.  In some ways Catherine is a lot like a sister, but I 
really do love her very 
much.  We really are happy together.  One day we may get married, but there's 
plenty of time for 
that.  We're in no hurry.