My Landlady Had Different Plans - Part 8

OTHER PARTS | ALL STORY LIST

Note - This story is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and events are purely imaginary and bear no relation to real people, living or dead. Any resemblance is purely coincidental.

"Exactly. You are Melissa. Let other people think what they want to think. You are Melissa and both you and I… and Jessica! We all know that's who you are, and that's what matters. Don't you agree?"

"Yes…"

"You are beautiful," Mrs. Johnson hugged me. "I know you see it too. Now let's go out and show the world just how beautiful you are."

Thank goodness we had gotten up so early! With all the hair and makeup and corset tightening (ack! it was so tight!) I was on the verge of being late for work.

While Mrs. Johnson freshened up and got ready to leave, I packed my suitcase with all of my old male clothes. I had already washed the dirty ones from last week, so everything was ready to go. I now had an empty drawer and a full suitcase. I closed the lid with a click and then gathered my books and papers for my first day at work as the new Melissa.

Oh god. My first day at work as a woman. An involuntary shiver ran through me.

I stood at the front door, waiting for Mrs. Johnson, trying to breathe (but unable to) and fidgeting in my black flats, the rose purse slung over my shoulder. Mrs. Johnson had packed it with makeup and other items for me.

The watch!

I dropped the purse and raced up the stairs. I found the Tiffany watch in a drawer of the dressing table and put it on.

Thank goodness I remembered! I ran back downstairs where Mrs. Johnson was waiting.

"All set to go?" she asked, holding out her hand.

I slung the purse over my shoulder, picked up the suitcase and my books and put my hand in hers.

"Ready," I said, more than a little nervously.

But Mrs. Johnson wasn't leaving.

"This watch," she said, looking at my wrist. "Where did you get it?"

"I…" I hesitated. But I had to tell the truth. "Jessica gave it to me. She said I should start wearing it once I had… You know… once I had committed to transitioning to being a woman full-time."

"Jessica…" she muttered. "I ask, because…" but then she stopped and didn't say anything for a long time.

"Mrs. Johnson?" I asked, worried. "Is everything okay? I can go back and get a different watch."

"No, dear! That's fine. If Jessica wants you to wear it, then…" she paused again. "No matter. Let's go! It's time to get your day started! After all, today is the first day of the rest of your life!"

And so I stepped out into the real world for the very first time, as a woman.

All these new feelings! The crisp morning air on my legs and bare arms, the gentle weight of breast forms pulling on bra straps as I bounced down the walkway, the A-line dress brushing against my legs (in pantyhose), the creamy lipstick on my lips, the purse strap over my shoulder, the thin and insubstantial feeling of my black dress flats. I felt like a little girl as I got into Mrs. Johnson's large luxury sedan, where I sat in the passenger's seat, surrounded by leather and polished wood.

Our first stop was at the charity drop off where I got out of the car and handed the suitcase to the nice man at the truck.

The enormity of what I had just done suddenly flowed through me. I had just given all of my male clothes to charity! And my only suitcase! I would be wearing women's clothes from now on. There would be nothing else for me to wear but lingerie, skirts, and dresses.

"Thank you, miss!" he said, handing me a receipt.

He called me miss!! I thought to myself, tickled.

"You're welcome!" I responded, but then he looked at me oddly. I quickly got back in the car.

"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Johnson.

"I don't sound right!" I said, worried.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't sound like a girl! The man back there. As soon as I talked, he looked at me weirdly."

"Shush, I'm sure you're just making something out of nothing."

"But I don't sound right!" I whined.

"Now, Melissa," she said, "you'll be fine. You have a high voice for a man already. Just talk a bit more softly, and you'll be fine. Then we'll find a vocal teacher for you."

"Really?" I asked, like a little child.

"Yes dear. Everything will be okay, I promise. Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Ma'am. With all my heart."

But I practiced my female voice all the way to the museum, just to be safe.

"Everyone? I need to make an announcement."

I stood next to the museum director as he called out to the staff. It's a small museum, so 'everyone' meant about five people, including Janice, my boss.

"I'd like to introduce Melissa," he said, once everyone had gathered round. "She'll be working here as an intern in the education department."

"What happened to Paul?" someone asked.

"Melissa?" the museum director turned to me. "Would you like to tell them?"

What?? Me?? I looked up at him, frightened. I was expecting Dr. Anderson to tell everyone so I wouldn't have to!

"It's okay. You can do it," he said, encouragingly.

"I-I… I am P-Paul," I stammered, trying to speak with my new female voice. "Or, I was. I'm Melissa now. I've…" I halted, unable to get the words out. Dr. Anderson put a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. "I've decided to transition… to being a woman."

There was a general murmur of Ohs! and really? And no way! and one 'that's so wonderful!' from Judy, the motherly receptionist, the last person I expected to be understanding. I gratefully accepted a couple of hugs from members of the staff and then everyone dispersed back to their desks.

Well, that seemed to go well, I thought happily to myself.

"Blink twice if you're trapped and being dressed up against your will," Janice said, sotto-voce as I walked to my desk.

I looked at her, hurt and astonished.

"Wha-what do you mean?"

"Oh, you know, it's Mrs. Johnson, isn't it? I heard the stories. She's made you do this, hasn't she?"

"NO!!" I said, a little too loudly. Tears welled up in my eyes and threatened to spill over. "This… it's what I want!"

"But not really, right? You can't seriously be thinking--"

But I didn't hear the rest, as I ran out of the room and down the hall, where I stopped dead.

"FUCK!" I cursed, angry and frustrated. I stared at the two doors before me, one labeled 'Men' and the other labeled 'Women'. Which door was I supposed to use?? What the fuck was I supposed to do??

"Shit-shit-shit!" I wailed, sinking to the floor and covering my face, makeup ruined, now in full meltdown mode, all of the frustrations and worries of the past week spilling out into heaving sobs.

"Shhhhh," someone said, gently grasping my shoulders and pulling me up. "Let me help you." She opened the door to the women's room and ushered me inside, where we sat on a nice padded bench. I slowly calmed down as she fetched me some tissues.

"Janice?" I asked, surprised.

"I'm so sorry… Melissa," Janice apologized, holding my hands in hers. "I had no idea. There's no excuse for what I said. I'm just… so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

"This is who I am," I said, looking at my boss with blotchy eyes. "I'm Melissa."

"I understand that now," she said. "I just had such a hard time believing it! You seemed the least likely person to be transgender when we first met. And so I just wondered…" she stopped short and paused for a few seconds. "Anyway, that doesn't matter now. I just want to say that I'm sorry, and that I will do everything in my power to support and encourage your transition. Should we go change your HR paperwork?"

"My paperwork?"

"Yes. To change your gender and name in the files and on your badge? So that you'll officially be Miss Melissa Kelly as far as the Museum is concerned?"

Miss? I thought to myself. I'm officially a 'miss' now? 'Miss Melissa', 'Miss Kelly', I thought to myself.

"You do want to do that, don't you?" Janice prompted.

Oh god. Change my official paperwork? I imagined someone using white out to remove 'Paul' from my personnel form and writing 'Melissa' over top of it with black permanent ink. This is real, I thought to myself. This is happening. I'm transitioning. I'm becoming Melissa. I am Melissa. Miss Melissa Kelly.

"Thank you," I said, managing a smile. "That would be great. But could you…"

"Yes, Melissa?" Janet asked. "What can I help you with? Anything, just name it."

"Could you help me to fix my makeup?"

"Hey Mom," Jessica answered her cell phone.

"Jessica!" Mrs. Johnson sounded anguished. "What have you done? I saw the watch. You gave it to Melissa?"

"Mom! Does that mean she's--"

"Yes, she's wearing the dress. Paul has officially transitioned to Melissa now. She's at work at the museum right now."

"Oh my god! I never thought… Okay, well, I suppose that I did." Jessica looked at the ground, her mind a whirl of confusing emotions of guilt and something else… desire?

"The watch, Jessica! Why did you give it to her?" Mrs. Johnson's plaintive question brought Jessica back to reality.

"Mom, can we talk about this later? I'm sort of in a meeting."

"No, Jessica, we can't. Your father gave you that watch on his deathbed. I know what it means."

"You discussed it with him?"

"Of course I did! We were husband and wife. We had no secrets from each other. We discussed everything. I know that your father gave it to you when he told you to look after me. But then why did you give it to Melissa?"

Jessica fretted. Should she say the words? Once she did, there would be no going back. She took a deep breath.

"Mom, I'm moving to Boston," Jessica said.

"You're WHAT??" Mrs. Johnson gasped.

"Mom! I can't start a business in this podunk town!"

"But your company, it's been successful, hasn't it? Why move?"

"Because it's too far away from everything! I'm moving to Boston, where all the 3-D manufacturers are located. It's a hub. Hiring people will be like 100 times easier, and everyone there knows the latest technologies and techniques."

"Oh my. Oh, Jessica… you're leaving me? You're leaving home?" Mrs. Johnson's voice suddenly sounded very old. She held the phone tight to her ear, not believing what she was hearing.

"But it's okay, right? I mean, you have Melissa now, and she can take care of you, right?"

"This has all been a PLOT? You've been maneuvering poor Melissa just so you can leave town without feeling guilty?"

"No! Of course not!"

"Well, that's what it sounds like to me!"

"That's not the reason!" Jessica said.

"Then why? Why did you give her the watch? Why did you make her wear corsets and take all of her old clothes to charity?"

"Because…" Jessica started. But why had she done it? Why had she made Paul… now Melissa do all those things for her? Why had she made her make all of those promises? Especially when Jessica could clearly see how easily the defenseless girl could be manipulated? Jessica racked her brains for the reason.

"Because I wanted to," she said, finally. And as soon as she said it, Jessica knew it was true. The reason she had done all of those things to poor, helpless Melissa was simply because she wanted to. She wanted to put Melissa into uncomfortable situations and to lead her deeper and deeper into an irreversible world of womanhood. It… it was like an addiction. Some sort of sick desire.

And that's why I have to get away from here! Jessica thought grimly to herself. I have to remove myself from the temptation to abuse her even more.

"What's that mean, 'because I wanted to'?" Mrs. Johnson asked, confused. "What kind of a reason is that?"

"Mom, please. I'm moving to Boston. Surely you didn't think I would stay at home forever?"

"But you're not at home. You have your own place."

"You know what I mean. This town. I… It's time. Time for me to strike out on my own. I'm sorry, Mom. Listen, I really have to go. I'll be by this weekend, okay? And we can talk some more."

Mrs. Johnson looked at the phone for a long time after Jessica hung up.

Her daughter is moving away. Mrs. Johnson felt her heart breaking, just like it had when her husband died. The two most important people in her life, one dead and now the other is leaving.

But something was strange, she thought to herself. 'Because I wanted to'. The words kept running through her head. She could tell they were the truth, but what did they mean? And did they have anything to do with Jessica moving away?

We made the changes to my HR forms (they were already out and ready for me to sign(!) by Judy, the receptionist/office manager) so that I officially became Melissa, and then I went back to my desk to begin the day.

And everything was… normal! Delightfully, wonderfully normal.

Oh, not the clothes, or the makeup, or the way my new curly hair kept brushing my neck and face. And wearing pantyhose and a skirt was definitely a new experience. Every time I sat or moved, the skirt would brush across my thighs across the sheer nylon, giving me a delicious tingle. And I found my posture was so vastly improved with the corset. Even Janice noticed.

"You seem so much more… upright now," she said, choosing her words carefully.

I blushed.

"What?" she asked.

"I… I'm wearing a corset," I said. "To, uh… give me a better figure."

"Oh! What fun!" she grinned. "Is it uncomfortable?"

"Not too bad," I said. "I'm starting to get used to it."

Another thing that surprised me was my bare arms. I felt so naked without sleeves! It was the first time I had been outside the house (other than swimming) without sleeves, and I felt so… exposed. Much more so than I thought I would be.

So no, it wasn't the clothes or my new look, which was normal. The normal part was the way everyone treated me. They treated me like an intern, just like they always had. Even in the meeting on the new clock-making exhibit, I felt just like any other staff member.

Only I was Melissa! It was Melissa in that meeting, sitting with a notepad, taking notes, writing down action items, and helping Janice wherever I could. It was strangely, weirdly, bizarrely… normal.

"The 2 o'clock tour is here," said Judy, poking her head into the conference room.

"Why don't you take that one, Melissa?" said Janice.

"Mee??" I squeaked.

"Good idea!" said Dr. Anderson, looking at me, his eyes twinkling. "You're fully trained, right? And weren't you the one who just updated the docent's manual?"

"Well yes, but, I mean, I've never…"

"There's always a first time," said Janice. "I'll come with you and critique your performance."

And so I went down and there they were: Eight people, mostly older couples, waiting for their tour.

"H-hello!" I said, walking up to them, with a nervous smile. "M-my name is Melissa. Melissa Kelly, and I'll be your tour guide today."

I was so glad I was wearing a dress and a corset. The dress, because it made me look so feminine,e that I hoped it would cover up any problems with my voice, and the corset because it just felt so comforting. It felt like Mrs. Johnson was right there with me, supporting me and holding me up.

"This is my very first tour, so please be gentle!" I pleaded. "And my boss, Janice, is here to watch and make sure I stay on track."

And just then, seeing their faces, somehow I just knew. I had them. They were on my side. They were looking at me as Melissa tour guide, and not Melissa, transgender male-to-female. And other than worrying about my female voice, all of those endless hours of reading and studying, and practicing just somehow came out naturally, and I didn't have to refer to the docent manual I was carrying at all.

And it was glorious.

"I am so glad you had a good day today," said Mrs. Johnson, as she unzipped my dress. She was helping me get undressed from my work clothes and then dressed for sleep.

"It was so wonderful," I sighed. "Everyone was so nice and I felt so… accepted." I looked around the bedroom. This was my bedroom now! I looked at the closet, and those were all my clothes now! I thought about the empty drawer in my dresser where my male clothes used to be, and my suitcase now at the charity center, being sorted and sold to others. Suddenly, the room, the house, everything just felt more feminine. 

No male clothes at all. No male briefs or boxers, no male pants, no male T-shirts… all women's clothing. All women's lingerie, all women's nightgowns and dresses and bras and stockings and camisoles and girdles and skirts and blouses… There was nothing else to wear. I felt trapped but in a good way. I was Melissa for sure now.

"Oh my dear, I am so glad," said Mrs. Johnson, pulling me into a hug.

"Are you okay?" I asked, sensing that something was wrong.

"I… it's just…" Mrs. Johnson hesitated.

"What?" I asked again, starting to worry.

"It's Jessica. She's… she's moving to Boston."

"NO!" I shouted, then quickly put my hand over my mouth.

"Yes, it's true, I'm afraid," Mrs. Johnson gave me a sad smile. "My little girl, flying the nest. I suppose I should be proud."

"Oh, Mrs. Johnson! I'm so sorry!" And this time it was me, pulling my landlady into a hug and comforting her. And as I held her, I could see the watch, which was still around my wrist. The watch from Jessica and the responsibility it represented that I would always be with Mrs. Johnson, her companion and helper, forever.

"Did she say why she was moving?" I asked.

"Oh, some nonsense about not being able to build her business here," Mrs. Johnson said as I stepped out of the dress and hung it back up in the closet. "But there was this one odd thing…"

"What was that?"

"Well, we were talking about you," Mrs. Johnson said as she began to work on the laces on my corset. I would still have to wear it for sleeping, but it would be an inch looser.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. We talk about you all the time, actually." Hearing that made me blush. "Anyway, I asked her why she had made you wear corsets, take all your male clothes to charity, and wear the watch. And do you know what she told me?"

"No, what?"

"She said, 'because I wanted to.' Wasn't that strange? What did she mean by that, do you think?"

"I… uh…" I blushed, remembering when Jessica was in my room.

"Melissa! What do you know? Please tell me!"

"Mrs. Johnson," I said, turning to her. "Oh gosh, how do I say this? When Jessica was in my room, with the suitcase and making me promise all of those things to her, she, uh… well, she was excited."

"Excited?" her eyes were round with amazement. "What do you mean… excited?"

"Well, she, sort of forced me down and… uh… pleasured herself. On me. By rubbing against me, as I recited my promises to her." I don't think my face could have got any redder, repeating the experience to my landlady, Jessica's mother!

"So that's what she meant," Mrs. Johnson said, as understanding dawned on her. "She finds dominating you to be exciting, maybe even addicting. Do you think that's why she's leaving? So you won't be a temptation?"

"I don't know," I shrugged my shoulders. "It could be, I guess."

"Interesting…" she said, tapping her lips with a finger, deep in thought. "Melissa, let me ask you: do you like my daughter?"

"Oh yes," I said, without hesitation.

"And would you still like to become her wife? A wife for my daughter?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I would. Most definitely."

"Even if you know that she will dominate and control you? That you will be in a wife led marriage for the rest of your life?"

I squirmed.

"Mrs. Johnson? May I have permission to relieve my, uh, sexual tensions?"

"I guess that's a 'yes' then!" she laughed. "You do want to be her wife. And yes, too, Melissa, you may pleasure yourself once you are safely tucked into bed."

"Thank you, Ma'am." my blush got even deeper. I had to ask my landlady before I could masturbate. Oh god, how humiliating! How deliciously humiliating.

"Oh, Melissa, you are just the most amazing young lady ever. So obedient and honest and such a good, modest young girl. You are everything that a mother could wish for in a daughter-in-law. Well, I think that settles it. You want to be Jessica's wife, and she, clearly, wants you. So we just have to figure out a way to convince her to stay."

"But how?"

"Well, off-hand, I would say that we need to demonstrate to her that there is absolutely nothing wrong with her acting out on her desires. And that you are a full and eager participant."

"How do we do that?"

"By putting you in situations where Jessica can dominate you."

"You're going to use me as bait?" I gasped, not believing my ears.

Mrs. Johnson laughed. "Yes, as bait."

"But how are we going to do that?"

"I don't know. Let's sleep on it, okay? I'm sure that we'll figure out something tomorrow. But in the meantime, I think that I should rescind my permission for your sexual release."

"What? Why??" I was ashamed at the sound of pleading and whining in my voice.

"Because, my dear Melissa," Mrs. Johnson said, pulling me into a long, deep, warm kiss which left me breathless, "I think that having you nice and horny and… desperate, may be just what Jessica needs to change her mind about staying."

And with that, Mrs. Johnson handed me a nightgown (the pink one with embroidery from before) and tucked me into bed.

But before she left, she opened my nightstand drawer and plucked out the washcloth I used for masturbation, taking it with her.

"Good night, Melissa," she said, giving me one last kiss before turning out the light and closing the door.

Oh god I was hard. I squirmed in bed, trying to keep my mind off of how much I needed release.

What would tomorrow bring?