Archive-name: Changes/fareast.txt
Archive-author: 
Archive-title: Far Eastern Adventure, A


    He was transferred to the Far East with no real choice in
the matter.  His boss never took no for an answer and rarely gave
him the opportunity to try.  She had been acting strangely for
the last few weeks, eyeing him oddly as if trying to unravel some
hidden mystery within him.  This strange perusal upset him more
than it might have somebody else because he lead a secret life
that he dared not share.  Still he felt reasonably sure that his
private passion was still secure and undisturbed.  His concern
for security was extreme, and he took every precaution against
discovery.  But still there lurked a nagging doubt deep within
him that one day his secret life would catch up with him and
leave him exposed to the ridicule of his colleagues.  
    After all how could they understand why a successful
professional would want to dress and act the way he did.  He
didn't really understand it himself, but knew that it was a
delicious compulsion and one which he could not resist.  After a
long day at the office he would return to his bachelor's
apartment and draw a steaming hot bath.  While the water was
running he would strip off his drab office attire and admire his
lithe form in the full length mirror.  Each evening as he did the
exercises designed to keep himself trim, he concentrated on
maintaining his figure, perhaps to an extreme.  He sometimes
wondered if this preoccupation would be his downfall, but he knew
that this was just something that he had to do.  Each evening as
he lowered himself into the steaming hot tub and let the perfumed
bubbles soften and refresh his skin, it was as if the outer world
retreated, and he was somehow freed to become a whole person.
    His nightly routine had become almost a ritual.  After ten
minutes of lying prone in the over-sized tub, he would sit up and
begin shaving.  He still took such pleasure in watching the
stubble on his body disappear, leaving clean white limbs and a
smooth chest.  He often remembered how as a young boy in the
locker-room others had worried about how slowly the hair on their
chests was growing, while he of all people had to sit and watch
the hair on his chest growing at what seemed like an exorbitant
rate.  It wasn't fair he had often thought.  Why couldn't people
simply will their hair to go grow or go away as they wished?  It
wasn't until much later that he had realized that if he couldn't
control its rate of growth, at least he could regulate its
appearance.
    After removing all the hair from his arms, legs, and chest,
he would rise from his bath, wrap himself in a full-length, pink
bathrobe, and glide gracefully into his walk-in closet to select
his attire for the evening.  As a bachelor he spent nearly every
penny of his salary on clothes.  Not on the dull male uniform
that he wore to the office each day, but on a wondrous array of
brightly colored blouses and skirts and dresses.  He loved
nothing better that to spend the evening trying on one outfit or
another dreaming all the while that he had somehow been
transformed into a wild and exotic creature.
    He had with time become rather expert at applying make-up to
cover his beard and soften his masculine features.  He could
spend hours experimenting with shading and contouring and had
come to know his face like an artist knows a canvas.  Depending
on his mood he could create a face that reflected passionate
emotions, gentle contemplation, serene peace of mind, or
simmering sexuality.  After selecting and adjusting a wig to suit
his mood, he at last felt as if he could begin to live.
    Unfortunately, the night by this time was flying by and he
ventured out only rarely, fearful of discovery and the inevitable
ridicule and disgrace which he was sure must follow.  The few
times he had managed to screw up his courage and step out the
door had been entirely uneventful.  A trip to a shopping mall in
the suburbs had been his most adventurous outing, and to his
relief no one had even noticed his presence.  He had taken care
not to over-dress for the occasion, restraining himself to a pair
of designer jeans and flat-heeled pumps instead of his favorite
dresses and skyscraper heels.  
    Once he had even ventured out to a lively bar where there
was a female impersonator show.  He had been mesmerized by the
beauty of the performers and found himself in an emotional
turmoil.  He wanted desperately to be just like those performers
and yet was also sexually aroused by their dancing.  At the end
of the show he had been sitting quietly at a table in the corner
when he was joined by a very handsome man who offered to buy him
a drink.  A wave of anxiety rose from his stomach leaving him
unable to respond in words.  He desperately shook his head and
stood to take his leave, but before he could escape the man
reached out and embraced him, kissing him hard on the mouth and
smearing his carefully applied lipstick.  Like a demon he
struggled to free himself and sped from the bar, filled with even
more conflicting emotions.  How horrible it was to be kissed like
that!  No wonder some women grew disgusted and angry with men who
forcibly tried to entice them!
    But what powerful feelings it had stimulated deep within
him.  He had never before been kissed by a man and was astounded
by his reaction.  What he had expected would be repulsive had
sent chills up and down his spine.  Instead of recoiling in
horror at the memory, he still felt a warmth and a tingling in
his loins.  
    The next morning he was still upset and had been unable to
go to work.  After calling in sick, he tried to find refuge from
his thoughts in the every day tasks of keeping house.  Wearing a
simple house-coat and just a touch of make-up and puttered around
the apartment straightening up and feeling quite domestic.  The
day literally flew by and he was just finishing hemming a lovely
new skirt, when the doorbell rang.  He jumped up and ran to the
bathroom in a terror.  What should he do?  Could he pretend not
to be home?  What if it was someone from work who was stopping
after work to see if he was O.K.?  He hurriedly wiped off his
lipstick, slipped on a bathrobe, turned off almost all the lights
and went to the door, feeling almost as sick as he had claimed to
be.  When he opened the door, to his horror he was confronted by
his boss with a briefcase full of work.
    When she asked after his health, he whispered hoarsely that
he was still feeling poorly, but hoped to be back in the office
in the morning.  She looked at him oddly, making him even more
nervous.  As if the encounter of the previous evening had not
been sufficient, here was his worst nightmare staring him in the
face.  But then to his relief she did not insist on coming in,
but instead handed him a letter from a colleague overseas and
took her leave.  As she turned to go she wished him good night
and hoped that he would make a speedy recovery from what ever was
ailing him.  He slipped back inside the safety of his apartment
after watching her stride forcefully down the hall.  He nearly
fell into his favorite armchair and tried to assess the damage. 
He glanced down at his feet and noticed to his horror that he had
forgotten to remove the bright pink polish from his toenails. 
    It was several weeks after this incident that his boss had
finally called him into her office for an important meeting.  She
smiled almost smugly when he entered as if she had found a
satisfactory answer to whatever problem had been worrying her. 
He felt once more her piercing stare and wondered with a tremor
if she had discovered his secret.  Instead of denouncing him on
the spot as some kind of pervert, she asked him to sit down and
explained what she had planned for him.  She said that she had
felt for a while that his talents were being wasted on the
domestic scene and wanted to give him a taste of the exotic.  She
had decided that the Orient was the place for him and was
transferring him to Singapore as of the first of the month.  He
was to spend the first month or so "getting acclimated" and
preparing only background pieces on the local culture.  Then he
was to begin writing more in depth pieces on local culture and
the arts.  
    He tried to explain that while he had studied liberal arts
in college, he had never done any writing of this kind.  She
pooh-poohed his excuses and said it was settled and he would just
have to prove his mettle as a reporter.  
    "A good reporter can find a story in anything," she reproved
him.  "The US audience is ready for a new angle, and I think a
taste of the exotic would be just about right.  We've had enough
about the technological prowess of our eastern competitors, what
we all want to find out is how they live their lives and what
they do with leisure time," she lectured.  

    In what seemed like a few short weeks he had packed up
almost all of his precious clothes and shipped them to the Far
East, unsure when and if they would get there.  It was extremely
disconcerting to be momentarily disconnected from his feminine
fantasy world.  He had kept out a few of his favorite things, his
prettiest nightie, some basic lingerie, a wash and wear travel
dress, a practical blouse, and a pair of jeans, but as soon as
the boxes were taken from his apartment he felt a growing sense
of unease.  What if they didn't arrive intact?  What if his
pretty things were somehow spoiled in transit?  What if they just
plain disappeared en route?  It was so terribly worrisome, that
he hardly had time to consider what a long term overseas
assignment would mean in terms of his personal life.  He had few
casual friends and acquaintances to whom he said good-bye.  His
family seemed very far away in their rural mid-western home; and
it had been several years already since he had been home.  He
was, come to think of it, virtually free of any entangling
alliances; he was ready for whatever adventures might be in store
for him.

    He arrived in Singapore after a long flight and checked into
his hotel.  It was late afternoon when he arrived, but he
immediately went to his room and drew a steaming hot bath.  It
seemed like several days since he had last shaved, and he simply
hated the thought of all that ugly brown hair starting to mess up
his lovely smooth form.  In a few minutes he had returned his
skin to a delightful smoothness and was beginning to feel that
delightful feeling of relaxation tingle down his spine.  Perhaps
this won't be such a terrible assignment he mused to himself as
he slipped on his nightgown and paused before the mirror to
tweeze a few stray hairs on his eyebrows.  As he stared in the
mirror an odd light gleamed in his eye.  Of course no one had
ever seen him here... They had simply been told that a new
journalist by the name of Lee Peterson would be reporting for
work at the end of the month.  His boss had very graciously
suggested that he take the month's leave which was due him at the
front end of his assignment to give him some time to get
acclimated to his new assignment.  She had even arranged for a
friend who was working in the States to sublet him her downtown
apartment for the next month on a trial basis.  He had opted to
stay in a hotel in the neighborhood for the first few nights, at
least until his things arrived.
    Hmm, he wondered.  Could I pull off the switch of a century
and show up for work as Ms. Lee Peterson instead of Mr. Lee
Peterson?  I would really catch hell if she ever found out, but
it might be worth it to break out of my glass cage for a while. 
He continued to re-shape his brows as mind raced through the
possibilities.  He would have to avoid any contact with the
Singapore staff until after he had had time to set up a new
public persona.  The thought of being able to adopt a publicly
more feminine role kept sending shivers of excitement up and down
his spine.  His fingers kept nervously plucking at away at his
brows until suddenly he realized that in fantasizing his new
role, he had reduced his usually trim eyebrows to pencil thin
arches that would have made a model jealous.  Well, he muttered,
no one knows what to expect in any case so at least they won't
notice a difference.
    He had just taken out his make-up case and was considering
whether to try out the new cosmetics he had treated himself to in
the airport, when he heard someone screaming in the hallway
outside his room and the sounds of a struggle.  Without really
thinking of the consequences he snatched up his robe and ran to
look out the peephole in his door.  Through the fish-eye lens he
could just see a man standing over the figure of a woman, yelling
at her abusively.  When he saw the man raise a stick to begin
beating her, he instinctively threw open his door and yelled in
his most authoritative voice "Hey, you!  Stop that immediately or
I'll call the police and have you arrested."
    At the sound of his voice the man turned with fear in his
eyes and beat a hasty retreat down the hall and into an elevator. 
The woman sprawled on the floor seemed dazed, but not badly hurt,
so he tried helping her to her feet. When her legs sagged beneath
her he half dragged and half carried her to his room and helped
her to lie down for a few minutes on his bed.  He started to call
a doctor, but she pleaded with him in a husky voice, not to
bother, that she would be all right in a few moments.  She just
needed time to catch her breath.  He gave in grudgingly to her
entreaties and sat down in the armchair next to the bed. 
    He glanced at his guest curiously to gain any clues as to
her identity.  She seemed in her mid-twenties and was dressed in
a red silk dress which just covered her knees.  The stockings on
her legs barely covered the rapidly swelling bruises from what
looked like were repeated kicks to her shins.  One of her long
red fingernails was chipped and another broken from her struggle. 
Her shoulder length hair was in disarray, though it appeared to
have been carefully arranged earlier in the evening. Her finely
carved face seemed to have escaped any damage for the moment, and
her carefully applied make-up was hardly even smudged.  He
watched her fast breathing begin to slow down as she regained her
composure, and at last she sat up and smiled over at her
benefactor.  
    Suddenly it was his turn to be the subject of an
examination, and he suddenly realized what an odd sight he must
be.  His smooth shaven legs were carefully crossed at the knee
with his ankles touching in his best feminine manner.  His
bathrobe had ridden up when he sat down revealing several inches
of the hem of his lovely pink satin nightgown.  He had left his
eyebrow tweezers and make-up case on the vanity and his precious
new lipsticks, nail polish, and other sundries were completely
exposed. He glanced up in the mirror and realized that with his
wet hair slicked back the delicately curving arches of his
eyebrows were clearly inappropriate for a man.  
    He turned back to face his guest unsure what to do next and
was relieved to see a warm and friendly expression on her face,
rather than the accusation he had expected.  She leaned forward
and thanked him warmly for saving her from that horrible man. 
Her accent was flawless, but terribly British, as was everyone's
apparently in this former colony.  But there was something about
her voice that stirred him.  It wasn't quite right, there must be
something about the accent that was disconcerting he decided.  It
was a bit strange to hear such a British voice coming from the
mouth of such a pretty Asian girl.  He watched her clear her
throat once and watched her adam's apple bob up and down as she
swallowed.
    All of a sudden he realized what was disconcerting! This was
no she, but a man dressed as a woman.  No wonder she was smiling
at him. Suddenly they both laughed out loud, and reached out to
clasp each other's hands, recognizing the common bond which drew
them like sisters together.  He found himself trembling as he
held her warm hands.  He was filled with such powerful feelings
to have met someone like himself here in this city of strangers. 
It was so amazing he could scarcely contain himself and suddenly
felt his emotions begin to overflow and in a minute he was
sobbing tears of joy, of amazement.  To his surprise his guest
moved quickly up against him and put her comforting arms around
him.  It had been so long since any one had held him in such a
tender way, he felt all of his barriers come crashing around him. 
He put his head on her shoulder and let out a great passionate
sob.
    In a few moments the storm passed and he straightened
himself up and looked into her eyes.  He supposed that he really
should switch pronouns, but somehow just couldn't quite pull it
off.  This person looked like and wanted to be taken for a she so
a she she would be.  He felt the warmth of her gaze and realized
that he no longer felt awkward and withdrawn.  He was sitting
here next to her, exposed for the transvestite he was and he felt
so remarkably at peace with himself and the world.
    "What is your name? he asked when he could find the words.
    "Syoung Li," she replied with another smile.  "What is your
name, kind savior, with the beautiful face and the heart of a
maiden?"
    "My name is Lee, also," he heard himself reply.  "We must be
sisters after all to have a name in common as well as so much
else."
    She giggled at his words and smiled her assent.  
    "I have known some American men, but did not know that there
were any as pretty as yourself.  They are usually so aggressive
that it surprises me to find one of such sensitivity.  I had
thought only Asians were capable of appreciating the pleasures of
the feminine," she admitted seriously.  "But, you are something
special.  I can not wait to introduce you to some of my friends
down on Bugis Street.  Why don't we go there tonight?"
    With his heart in his mouth he tried to refuse making
excuses about his hair, his inappropriate clothes, and whatever
else came to mind.
    She refused to take no for an answer, promising that she
herself would re-style his hair, and anything goes on Bugis
Street, and furthermore her friends would never believe her if
she told them how she had been saved and by whom.  She then
reached out and stroked his cheek gently and saying, "Besides, it
would be a shame to keep such a pretty face alone in a hotel room
on a Saturday night".
    He was deeply torn by the conflict raging within him.  On
the one hand his self preservation instinct said this was a crazy
idea that might cost him his job or worse, but on the other hand
he felt suddenly sure that if he did not go he would regret
missing this chance for the rest of his life.  In the end he
nodded his assent, and felt his excitement begin rising.
    Immediately his mind was racing to the possible outfits that
he might possibly get away with in public.  Without his wigs he
would be hard pressed to be passable, but perhaps with some help
he might pull it off.  With the help of his eager accomplice he
threw open his suitcases and began pulling out the few feminine
clothes that he had brought along just in case.  
    First he donned a pair of silky soft panties taking care to
smooth back his penis, leaving no trace of his manhood.  He
wrapped his still undeveloped chest in a bra that hugged his
chest and stimulated his sensitive nipples with every move.  Soon
he was immersed in the ritual of becoming a feminine person, but
this time there was the added pleasure of a helpful and
supportive companion to smile encouragement and make helpful
suggestions.  When he struggled with the zipper on the back of
his dress her nimble fingers beat him to the punch and zipped him
snugly into his outfit for the evening, a medium length blue
dress, with padded shoulders, a full skirt, and low-cut back that
just missed exposing the straps of his bra.  He felt quite daring
in this outfit, but Li had insisted that this was the dress he
must wear.
    She next sat him down took charge of his make-up.  Although
he was accustomed to doing his own face, it felt extra special
and just a bit decadent to have someone else take control of the
transition.  He realized that he loved the feeling of being in
someone else's hands.  It was a powerful new sensation for a
confirmed loner like himself.  As she finished with his
foundation and began applying his lipstick, he suddenly felt an
eerie sense of transformation like he had never felt before.  it
was almost as if he was watching from afar while his male self
disappeared and was replaced by a lovely feminine figure.  What
surprised him was how easy it was to say a mental good-bye to the
uncomfortable figure of his male ego.  He turned to try and thank
his newly found sister, but she turned him face forward and began
painting his fingernails with a brand new polish the same shade
as his lips.   After she finished with his nails and he sat
waving his fingers in the air, she began teasing his hair.  She
took a can of hair-spray and began alternately teasing and
spraying his normally medium length hair into a delicate pouf
surrounded by curls.  He had never imagined that his own hair
could look like this.  It was almost like magic.
    Next it was her turn to re-apply her make-up, but when she
turned to look for her purse they both realized that it had been
left in the hall after the struggle.  When she opened the door to
look for it, it was no longer there.  
    "It doesn't matter," she said quickly.  "I never carry much
of value in my purse anyway.  I just wanted to re-apply  my own
make-up... "
    "But since we are like sisters, I would be honored if you
would share mine," he said generously.  She accepted his offer
gratefully and soon their lips were dyed in an identical shade of
red.  Now it was his turn to apply the nail polish for his
sister, and he did so as carefully as he could, trying not to mar
a single perfect nail.  Sharing the same cosmetics made them feel
even closer, though he would never have guessed at the time how
close they were soon to become.  
    At last they were ready to go out on the town and sample the
pleasures of Singapore by night and particularly this place they
called Bugis Street.  When he had asked her what was so special
about Bugis St., she looked surprised at his ignorance and said
that it was the transvestite center of the Asian world.  Girls or
pseudo-girls from all over the region came to explore their
femininity on Bugis Street she explained.  And men with a taste
for the exotic came to explore this newly developing femininity. 
    So, off he went into the night without really being aware
how much this single evening would change the course of his life. 
He simply knew that he had been waiting all his life for an
evening like this and nothing was going to interfere with his
enjoying it fully.     They walked down the hall and descended on
the elevator, giggling happily and making comments about those
two beautiful girls in the mirror on the back wall.  When the
doors opened they walked out bold as brass and crossed the lobby
in front of the clerks who had checked him into the hotel several
hours earlier.  They glanced at the two girls briefly and they
returned to the television which was blaring in the corner.  As
they left the hotel, he gave a sigh of relief and felt the first
waves of excitement course down his spine.  Here he was out in
public for the first time in the east and it seemed so natural
and easy.
    He turned to ask his companion how they would get to Bugis
Street, and she laughed gaily and said that he was standing on it
now.  The bar where her friends were waiting for her was just
down to the left about two hundred yards.  When his jaw dropped
in disbelief, she smiled and showed him the street sign at the
corner which proclaimed that this was indeed Bugis Street. He had
simply not registered the address of the hotel which his boss had
recommended for him as just around the corner from the apartment
where he would be staying for at least the next month.  What a
piece of luck he remarked to himself.  Here I am at the heart of
the Asian transvestite scene and I have a month off from work to
enjoy myself.  He never stopped to wonder why it was that his
boss had selected this particular place for him to stay and why
she had been so accommodating as to find him such a convenient
apartment in the middle of this busy city.  All that he could
think of at the moment was how lucky he was to have found a new
friend who enjoyed his company and was willing to show him about.
    When they arrived at the bar, he realized that it was filled
with all manner of creatures of varying style and appearance,
from the gorgeous glamour queens all decked out in sequins and
sky-scraper heels to the more shy and retiring maidens who sat
coyly at their tables in the back of the room.  Everyone seemed
to know Li and was happy to see her.  At one table near the back
several girls moved over and space for the two newcomers to sit
down for a drink.  He lowered his gaze discreetly as he felt many
eyes on him and tried to sit as gracefully as he could.  But he
realized that he made quite scene because he was the only
westerner in the room, at least the only western queen in the
room, although there were several men in suits over in the corner
trying to hustle a couple of the girls.  As he looked up to find
his friends face, he realized that everyone at the table was
smiling warmly as Li began recounting the tale of how she had
been saved by a heroic man in a nightgown, who turned out to be
really just a girl like themselves.  He could feel his face
growing red, but hoped that his foundation would cover up most of
his embarrassment.  He was unused to being the center of
attention, and while part of him thrilled to feel interested eyes
checking out his dress, his carefully painted face, and
presumably trying to gauge what kind of body was hidden under the
feminine finery, another part of him wished he could sink through
the floor and disappear for a while.  
    But soon one of the girls called for a round of drinks to
celebrate his arrival and soon they were all chatting gaily about
how wonderful it was to meet a sister from America.  When they
plied her with questions about the opportunities for going out en
femme in the States he had to admit that he was a relative novice
and had only been out once or twice before.  They seemed to find
it amusing that someone who was as obviously feminine as he was
could have possibly been able to avoid flaunting it in public for
so long.
    After a round of drinks, Li teasingly asked Lee if "she"
knew how to dance in her heels.  Lee smiled shyly and admitted
that she had practiced in her own room on several occasions, but
had never before been asked for a dance.  In a few minutes the
two sisters were whirling around the dance floor have a marvelous
time.  Lee could hardly believe how wonderful it felt to feel
one's skirts swirling gently about his knees, caressing his
smooth stocking-covered legs with a gentle touch.  It was an
amazigly sensual and delicious sensation that aroused a
heightened awareness within him of how much he loved being
dressed the way he was.
    After an hour or so the other girls at the table rose to
join some "friends" at another bar, and they all said profuse
good-byes and promised to meet the next evening at around the
smae time.  Their abrupt departure left the two "sisters" alone
for a while, and they each had a second drink and began sharing
their mutual interest in all things feminine.  After what seemed
like a few short minutes the proprietor of the bar called out
that it was closing time in ten minutes.
    As they reached the street and felt the suddenly cool early
morning air, they both shivered.  Li exclaimed that she had left
her jacket in Lee's hotel room, and he without thinking invited
her to return to the hotel to pick up her coat and to savor one
last drink.  Unwittingly he had fallen into her trap for the
second time.  First by coming to the door in his robe and
"saving" her and allowing himself to be shown off to the wider
community and second by inviting a "lady" like her back to his
room after numerous drinks.
    In a few moments they were back in his hotel room and
without thinking Lee offered to call down for a couple of
nightcaps from room service.  Li smiled inscrutably and asked for
a Singapore sling.  
    They sat together on the only available seat in the room, a
strategically placed loveseat near the window.  In a few minutes
they were engaged talking animatedly about the "girls" they had
met earlier in the evening.  Li was entertaining her host/hostess
with marvelous tales from the Asian gender community.  
    They were interupted by a knock at the door and without
thinking Lee rose to open the door for what proved to be a
handsome young waiter.  He looked over the two girls with
obvious interest, and then with a leering smile leaned over to
Lee and offered her the bill.  Lee took the bill and after a
hesitation, she signed her name Ms. Lee Peterson and the waiter
didn't blink an eye.  Ms. Lee Peterson has now arrived officially
in Singapore
    As soon as the waiter left, Lee turned to Li and explained
the source of her tension and excitement.  She clapped her hands
with glee and threw her arms around her new sister and gave her a
sisterly hug.  The hug was returned and then without a clear
transition the two pseudo girls were soon wrapped in a long and
increasingly passionate embrace.  
    Lee was suddenly tingling all over with incredible
anticipation.  This was a moment she had dreamed of for many
years, and suddenly it was all around her, assailing her senses
with an overwhelming outpouring of sensation.  Li's experienced
hands began caressing her prize and soon had Lee quivering and
moaining with pent-up passion.  
    One of Li's red-nailed hands slipped up under Lee's dress
and began stroking the inside of her exposed thigh.  As Lee
shivered uncontrollably, Li's other hand assertively flipped her
skirt all the way up around her waist and slipped under the waist
band of her panties, ripping them down to her knees in a
surprisingly strong motion for such a small person.  
    Lee moaned again in a low voice as her seducer's eager lips
moved in on her rapidly expanding genitals.  With lips, tongue,
and teeth Li devoured her new sister and soon had her thrusting
and throbbing with sexual energy.  Each time she felt an orgasm
mounting she pulled back just enough to let the tension subside,
and then began again her slow build-up.  Finally Lee could take
it no more, and exploded with a wail of ecstasy, collapsing back
onto the couch into a shivering huddle.

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