Pre-Op Roommate
Keywords: Pre-Op, Roommate,
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I was a few months away from graduating college with my Theater Arts degree when Mark, my roommate, told me he was going in for the sex change operation.
We popped a couple of beers and talked about this thing… he wasn"t sure whether he liked guys or not, he"d never done anything with them. But he liked dressing up like a woman, like acting like one, and felt like a woman trapped in a man"s body. It was weird as hell… Mark and I had been roommates since he started college just a couple of years before, and I"d never known any of this.
He didn"t think he was gay… he was going to get the surgery and become a lesbian, or something, though. He seemed really embarrassed, and asked me if I wanted him to move out.
It WAS going to be a freaky situation. Neither Mark nor I had much of a social life. I had the group from the Theater classes, and he had his marketing club, but this was they guy I hung out with most nights, eating pizza and watching TV. How this change in his life came about with me knowing absolutely nothing about it, I had NO idea, but I wasn"t gonna stop being his friend. I told him there was no need for him to move out, and that he was just as much a renter of the apartment as I was. It seemed settled.
He started the treatments just after I graduated. He had a couple of years of college to go, yet, but the apartment would still suit both of us, since I was looking for work close by. I managed to land a pretty good paying job at a local social clinic, since I had a lot of psychology under my belt. It turned out I was going to need all that training at home, too.
Mark started a program of hormone replacement therapy, and a few other chemical processes. After a couple of months of the treatment, his body chemistry was a raging mess, his emotional states would jump wildly, and he did indeed start looking much more feminine. He"d never been really built, as a guy, so it was gradually apparent that he was getting some curves… and some boobs. Not big ones, but they were there. He was going to get implants, at some point.
Even with all the female body chemistry, though, he still hadn"t undergone the major operation to alter his genitals, so he still had a pair of testicles filling him up with testosterone. The mood swings were, in large part, the two body chemistries fighting each other.
I guess I became a little distant… between getting a lot of overtime at the clinic, and not knowing how to handle his new status as a becoming "her," I kinda kept to my room. But then there was that one day.
I came home really tired, and tossed my dress jacket over a chair, when I heard Mark crying, in the bathroom. I may have been uncomfortable with him, at the time, but I wasn"t a bastard. The door was open, and I poked my head in.
Mark was wearing a skirt and a blouse, trying to get accustomed to the female clothing. His hair had softened, and gotten a little longer, since he hadn"t cut it since before the treatments began. But his face looked like he"d been mugged by the Avon lady.
"What"s up, Mark?" I asked, leaning on the door jamb. He jumped, a little, and looked at me, huge rivers of badly-placed Mascara running down his cheeks.
"I… I wanted to try… try to look nice… and I got this stuff… and… it"s STUPID! STUPID!" He threw a handful of application sponges across the counter, and sat there crying.
I stepped forward, and examined the make-up he"d gotten. It was top of the line stuff… Mark"s folks were rich, and they apparently approved of his change, so he could afford the best makeup. But he had no idea how to apply it.
I put my hand on his shoulder… and it felt different. WAY different. Not the shoulder of the guy I would punch in the ribs when he was kicking my ass on the game system. It was softer… nicer… warmer. It was a woman"s shoulder. I continued on, though.
"Hey, it"s ok. You haven"t ever done this before, right?"
He looked up at me with that clownish disaster of a face and nodded, quieting a little bit. I smiled.
"Look… Theater Arts degree, here. I"ve done more women"s make-up than I"ve had hot lunches. Let"s clean you up, and start all over, ok?"
He smiled… and it wasn"t a man"s smile. "Cause when guys smile at me, I don"t get warm in the crotch. I shoved the feelings down, though… this was Mark, my roommate. I showed him how to use Cold Cream to get the makeup off, and about a roll of toilet paper later, sat him down, facing the mirror, and began to apply the makeup myself.
"Start with the base… this is a good color. Pretty close to your own skin color. It"ll smooth out lines and such, not that you"ve got any to deal with, really. Gives you a good even tone. The lady at the makeup counter helped you pick this stuff, right?"
"Yeah," he said, watching my hands deftly coat his face in a thin layer of the powder.
"She made some good choices," I said. I applied the blush, showing him how to accentuate his cheek bones, and the eye-shadow, which was a really sexy dark blue. His eyebrows were a little on the bushy side, but it had kind of a Brooke-Shields in the "80"s appeal, so we left them alone. The mascara brought out his naturally long lashes, and a deep maroon lipstick really set his lips off. I caught myself wondering if his lips had always been in that shape, or if the therapy was changing that, too.
A little powder, and some fixatives for the lipstick, and he was done… looking like anything BUT a "he."
He gave me that smile again, in the mirror… and with the makeup, it got me a little hard. I was admonishing myself for needing a cold shower after spending time with my roommate, of all people, when he turned to me.
"Can you do something with my hair, too? It still looks too much like… well… like it"s always looked."
"I"ll give it a try," I said. "I didn"t do much with hair that wasn"t wigs, but it shouldn"t be too hard."
And, really, it wasn"t… some styling gel, a couple of brushes, and his hair went from his usual unruly, parted-in-the-center mop to a gentle wave, down the sides of his face. He looked in the mirror and smiled… and I realized that I had made him look fucking hot.
"Oh, Dan… that looks GREAT!" he said, primping a little. His small, rounded breasts thrust against his blouse, when he did, and I had to start thinking about baseball. "How can I thank you?"
"Hey, I was glad to help," I said. "I don"t like to see you upset."
He looked down at his lap, and started to sniffle a little, again. I guess I might have had a little panic.
"Hey, hey, hey… let"s not mess up that mascara, that"s some of my best work! What"s wrong?"
"It… it"s nothing," he said, as he rushed past me to the living room. I followed him, not sure of what to do or say.
"I"d like to know," I said, sitting on the couch. He sat next to me… at the other end of the couch.
"I just… it seems like… you… you don"t want anything to do with me, any more…" he said, and started crying, and I felt like a COMPLETE heel.
"Hey," I said, touching his shoulder again. Again, it was a different shoulder… not a "His" shoulder, but most definitely a "her" shoulder. He turned to me… and it wasn"t a "he" turning towards me, but most definitely a "she."
"What?" she asked, eyes brimming with tears. I couldn"t think about him as a "he," any more. Even though he still had some equipment between his thighs, Mark was definitely a "she" now.
"I… I guess I don"t know how to react to this… to you, and what"s happening," I said. Honesty. It"s caused MORE problems…
"Well," said Mark, "just… like always, right? I mean… I"m still the same person… just… well…"
"…Different," I finished. She nodded, looking into my eyes.
"I"ve been kind of lonely," she said, shrugging. "I mean… none of the people in the marketing club know how to handle this, and with no classes… I"ve been kind of stuck here, in the days… and at night… you don"t want to even look at me…"
I swallowed, feeling absolutely rotten. "Hey, Mark… I"m sorry. I guess I didn"t think about what you were going through… you know, with people. I"ll try to do better, ok?"
She smiled, and reached out, and squeezed my hand. It wasn"t a gesture he"d ever used before… but I liked it. Liked it because a pretty girl had just touched me.
"Man," I said, "I"m gonna need a cold shower, or two, though."
Mark seemed surprised, and pulled back a little. "What? Why?"
I looked at her again, and blinked. ""Cause you"re hot and gorgeous all at the same time, that"s why."
She blushed… even through the makeup, she blushed. "I… I don"t think so… I"ve been thinking that it wasn"t working out. That I was gonna be so ugly that it wouldn't work…"
"Hey, now," I said, and squeezed her hand back. "Stop that. Believe me, you"re beautiful. And it isn"t just the makeup, either… I just did stuff to accentuate what you"ve got. You"ve been getting really pretty… seriously. I think that"s why it"s been hard for me to… you know… be out here, and stuff."
The look in her eyes was shock and disbelief. "You think I"m pretty?"
I shrugged. "To put it mildly," I said.
Then, she was sliding closer to me on the couch, and her hand was on my knee, and things were about to get WAY out of hand.
"Mark," I started. She put her finger on my lips.
"Marcie," she said. "I"m Marcie now, Dan."
"Marcie," I said, trying to get used to it, "You"re one of the best friends I"ve ever had… but this is a little… kinda, you know… weird…"
"I still don"t think I like guys," said Marcie. "But I like you, Dan."
And then, she was kissing me, and, well, it"s been a while since a pretty girl had given me attention, and I kissed her back. And it was nice. My brain kind of turned off.
"Show me how pretty you think I am," she said, as she unbuttoned her blouse. Her pert little tits came into view, round and soft, and I took them in my hands, and gently caressed them, my thumbs playing with her nipples. She gasped, and kissed me again… and there was no going back.
In the back of my mind, I was wondering what was going to happen when we got to her "below the waist" area, but it was a minor concern, compared with my now raging hardon.
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Keywords: Pre-Op, Roommate,