It took me over four hours to drive that two hundred and fifteen miles to the farm. I am a consultant for organic agriculture, specializing in vegetable production. A Ms. Hollister had hired me to advise her on a new organic farm being set up to grow vegetables for the Arizona market. I am based out of Las Vegas, Nevada and worked mostly with organic farmers in the west U,S.
From her description, the farm seemed small, maybe too small to bother with. I had tried to give her a couple of other names of people that could help her, but she insisted on me. I was silent for a minute. She then said, “I will double your fee if you will take us on.” I decided to go down there, I would just check her operation out, but no promises to take her farm on as a client.
Quite often I found myself somewhere along the California coast, or in the inland valley of that state. Recently there has been a lot of new farms opening up in the northern part of Arizona and the Rio Grande Valley in New Mexico, so I have spent more time there than in California recently. This prospective client’s farm outside of Prescott, Arizona is in one of the surrounding valleys. I knew of one other a couple of hundred miles away, but they were having a lot of trouble getting their operation going, mainly due to mismanagement.
Ms. Hollister has asked me to check the initial setup of the Arizona farm, including soil samples on the fields to check for contamination and nutrient levels. She had a quite sizable contract with a grocery store chain based out of Phoenix and wanted to be sure that the farm could meet the expected deadlines for the contract. Her operation is unique because all her employees are female, not a standard practice by any means, but I guess she has her reasons. There is one other farm near Watsonville, California that hired a lot of females, they seemed to be more stable and reliable as workers, at least, it seemed to be working well for them.
I arrived a little after four in the afternoon and met the farm foreman, a Julie Preston. She gave me the fifty cent tour, the farm was laid out well, over three hundred acres of plantable fields, two spring-fed ponds, and another fifty acres growing cover crops for their compost operation. As she is showing me around, I took soil samples from the fields, and water samples from both the ponds and the spring. I did notice when I was taking a sample Julie was a little nervous, quickly walking away from the area. I kept a mini-lab in my truck, and I will check the samples tonight.
When we got back to her trailer/office, she showed me the proposed planting schedule for the first rotation and the expected yields. On paper it looked good, they had thought out things thoroughly and kept their expectations realistic. I told Julie I would see her in the morning, after finishing my testing tonight.
I drove to Prescott, the nearest sizable town, got a motel room and found a place to get some dinner. I found the restaurant that was recommended by the owner of the motel. It served burgers, hot dogs, and fries. I know it doesn’t sound that appealing, but the food was unbelievable. I got their burger in a basket, the burger is a half-pound of meat, with the basket easily twelve inches across loaded with fries. The bun freshly baked from the oven, and a tray of accouterments is served to accessorize the burger. There is tomato, three kinds of cheese, onion, pickles, mayonnaise, barbecue sauce, two kinds of mustard, ketchup, lettuce and three kinds of dressing all on this tray that is a foot and a half across.
Even if I am starved, I would not be able to eat half of this, much less finish the meal. I slowly made my way through the fries and nibbled on the burger. I started making notes on my laptop for tomorrow, also, some questions that I needed an answer to for my evaluation. I got a doggie bag to carry what I couldn’t eat back to my motel room. I have parked my truck close to the motel room, a room on the first floor. I put the food in the room’s refrigerator and made my way back to the truck.
I started on the samples, running them through my machines. About half way through, I began to see a pattern, there is heavy metal contamination in most of the samples, definitely not a good sign for the farm. It is unusual out here, especially in this valley to have this level of contamination. The water samples are clear of any contaminants, though. I suspected some foul play is involved since the contamination is almost equal in every sample.
Most soils vary from area to area in nutrients, also a fact with any contaminants. I decided to make a phone call to Ms. Hollister in the morning and then snoop around some more tomorrow to see if I could get any clues to the source of the metals. The detective work is not part of the job I hired on for, but I felt sorry for her since this will essentially keep her operation from obtaining any organic approval. I then realized I had never told her I would take the job, initial conversation that I would only come and take a look, and then advise her if I would take the job. I probably should do that first in the morning before I do anything else. Since she mentioned doubling my fee, I felt that I owed her some answers, not just more problems.
I laid in bed that night trying to figure who might be involved in this scheme to keep the farm from being organic. I made a short list of people that might have the brains, and the opportunity to spread the contaminants. Julie is on the list, also the fertilizer company that is supplying the nutrients. There might be a neighbor who resents the farm being there, but I noticed no close neighbors as I arrived. I would start with that list in the morning. I finally dozed off after several hours trying to narrow down the list.
I have always been an early riser, a habit ingrained in me by my folks when I was young. They owned a farm in the interior valley in California, using organic principles and methods, but before organic was a regimen or a growing method.
I got dressed, made my way to a Mickey’ Ds, then out to the farm. There is some activity already, so I parked at the barn/office and started walking the fields. I am just meandering along looking for a clue as to what might have made the fields unusable. I am greeted by the young ladies doing their work, mostly installing irrigation systems. They are friendly, and very outgoing, almost over-enthusiastic in their approach to the job.
As I made my way through the fields, I noticed several things that seemed out of place, but the main item of concern is they were not planting any crops. They are not aware of my findings, and with the deadlines imposed by the buyer, they should have been planting furiously by this time. I finished my tour, then headed back to the barn. Ms. Hollister is there waiting for me, and I am almost to the point of deciding who has their hands in this, so I asked her if I could postpone our meeting till dinner tonight. I did inform her that I would do the work she requested, I just needed a little more information.
I had not yet told her what my preliminary findings were, so she is unaware of any problems. She agreed, so I made my way over to where the ladies are taking lunch, deciding to see if I could rustle up any more information. Like I said, the girls are very outgoing, so I asked a few questions to see if they have noticed anything suspicious. I made excuses for the question, noting that any organic farm has to be cautious of any source of chemicals, or other items that might cause problems with their certificate.
It is a gal named Jill that helped me put all the pieces together. She mentioned that it seemed wasteful to work for seven days straight then have to be off for three to four days straight before they could resume. I asked if management had given any excuse for the action, but her response is that they have to do some spraying that would be potentially damaging to the girls if they came into contact with the spray.
The purpose of organic is that there are no sprays used that will damage the crops, be absorbed by the crop, or affect any employee picking or working with the crop. I now have my answer; they wanted all witnesses off the property as the dirty work is performed. We talked a little more with me discovering that the girls are all agricultural students in the local colleges, hoping to gain some practical experience with organic crops to help with future employment.
I was particularly interested in Jill, she seemed familiar maybe someone I had met before in my travels. I racked my brain as to where, but nothing popped into my head. She seemed the most knowledgeable of the group, a kind of self-appointed leader of the girls. Lots of questions regarding her, but no answers forthcoming.
After lunch, I made my way to the equipment storage area, to check the sprayers, taking samples from each one. Then I returned to the office to see if Julie is there, and then on a hunch decided to see if I could flush out the rat without involving any authorities. Julie is finishing a phone call, so I waited till she is done. I asked her if she has seen any unauthorized people wandering around the farm.
There is that short stab of silence before she tells me that have been no visitors other than myself since she became a foreman. I asked her if she kept receipts of any chemicals bought for farm use. She went to a file cabinet and handed me a file folder with quite a few invoices therein. I glanced through it noting invoice numbers and suppliers. I found several invoice numbers missing from a supplier that used consecutively numbered invoices for each customer.
I asked to use her phone; I told her that I wanted to check out these missing invoices. Well, that didn’t sit well with her, so she excused herself, to take care of a matter with one of the crews. After I had hung up with the supplier, Jill came into the office wanting to know when Julie is going to be back. I realized that Julie is gone, I have caught her in the act, and she doesn’t want to hang around for any questions, much less, possible jail time. Julie was not very smart to use the same supplier that supplies the farm for her chemicals to get the needed metal contaminants.
I walked out with Jill to see what they are working on; maybe I could tell them something to do to finish the day. They are moving seedlings from the small greenhouse to the outside hardening area, where they will stay for a few days to get used to the harsher environment. I had them get some foliar feed in small sprayers and apply it to the seedlings, with the rest of the crew cleaning the greenhouse to get it ready for the next crop of seedlings.
This work would keep them busy until quitting time, and then tomorrow would depend on what Ms. Hollister has to say tonight. I walked around to the rear of the greenhouse to a storage area to see what is there. I noticed a large amount of redwood boxes stacked to the ceiling. It was a rectangular box about eight inches high with two rails along the sides to keep the box off the ground. The box measured two foot by three foot, plenty big enough to grow a crop in especially the crops they needed for the contract. Counting the stacks, I figured that there were over two thousand boxes, with more redwood boards laid underneath the boxes. I wonder what they had used them for; Redwood is not cheap, and this must have cost them a small fortune to assemble.
I made my way back to the office, and the ladies had just finished their tasks. I asked Jill if she knew what the redwood boxes had been used for, her reply was they were there when she started work. She told me she would see me tomorrow morning, then made her way out of the office. I called her back after the rest of the ladies had left, asking her to stay and chat with me for a minute. She smiled, knowing that I finally figured it out.
I asked her if we had met before today, she told me that she worked for several companies in the interior valley, most of which I had done consulting work for. The next question is if she had anything to do with suggesting that I consult for Ms. Hollister. I am told that I would have to figure that out for myself, but she might have dropped my name around in a couple of conversations. Lastly, I asked whether she knew about Julie, she admitted that she had her suspicions, but had no proof.
She is definitely an unusual female, smarter than she looks, but quiet and reserved. I suspect she knows a lot more, but apparently is not going to divulge any of it until she is ready, or if I guessed it. I thanked her for her time, and I would see her tomorrow morning. She asked with a sad puppy dog face if the farm is going to stay open, I told her I didn’t know, but maybe in the morning, I could give her a better answer.
I had arranged to meet Ms. Hollister at the burger joint in Prescott. She had informed me that it is one of her favorite places too, but the hot dogs are her pick off the menu. I was waiting for her to arrive, smelling the smoke from their grill driving me crazy. She drove up in a cute maroon VW bug, one of the newer models from Mexico, not one of the originals from years past. We met in the lobby, and then the hostess finding us a place to sit after a short wait. We ordered our meals; then we got down to business. I filled her in about the contamination, about my suspicions about Julie, and then a few observations about the operation, and what could be done to sidestep the contaminated fields.
She is relatively quiet during the conversation, listening to everything I had to say, but unemotional about the facts. She asked if I knew anybody that she might hire to continue the operation of the farm. I told her that with the contamination, there would be no organic certificate. She asked if I owned the farm, what I would do to salvage the operation and save the farm. She reminded me that she had a contract to fulfill somehow, whether or not she had the farm producing or not.
I thought for several moments about ways to get around the contamination, but the only thing I could come up with is growing the produce in some kind of above ground unit, leaving the contamination below in the soil. I would have to come up with a filtration system to remove the possible leaching of the contaminants from the fields into the pond water.
I mentioned the use of portable growing containers as a possibility, with her asking how much more investment that would require. Then, before I could answer, she asked if the quantity needed for the contracts could be grown in the portable containers. I told her I thought so, but I would have to put a pencil to it to be sure.
During this time, we consumed our meals, excellent as usual, then she invited me to her home for more discussion. I am reluctant about accepting her invitation, but in the end, I took her up on the offer. We went back to my motel, with her suggesting that I stay the night at her home. Patricia was very nice, well informed, and in business mode much of the time. I finally relented as she told me that nothing unusual would occur, she just wanted more time to discuss the possible solutions to the problems.
I learned that she had obtained an SBA minority loan based on the fact that all people involved in the business will be female. That answered why she only had female employees, but not why she is so calm about things. Most male business associates in this type of problem would be pulling their hair out or trying to figure out who to sue. There has to be something more involved here than what is on the surface. Jill was the first question mark and now Patricia, both very smart, but quiet about the behind the scenes activity.
We arrived at her house an hour later, after I had checked out of the motel and removed my luggage. We ended up deciding to leave my truck at the farm, and she would drop me off there in the morning. Driving up to her house, I sensed that maybe she was not too concerned about the problems with the farm. Her house is huge, a ski lodge sized A-frame cabin that is enormous. I could see from the road two decks extending from the cabin, each deck a couple of hundred square feet in area. A large fireplace chimney on one side of the cabin extending ten feet above the top of the roof.
As we parked in front, the glass wall of the cabin allowed a view of the interior of this gorgeous abode. She helped me with one of my bags inviting me inside. I am led up a circular stairway to the second floor, then down a short hall to one of the bedrooms. I opened the door then stepped inside, the room is three times the size of the motel room, with a private bath to one side. I am asked if the room would be satisfactory, with me nodding yes. This place is a mansion, the view from the window of the room overlooking the valley below is spectacular. I looked a little closer noticing that the farm was visible off in the distance.
She suggested that I take a shower, get freshened up and she would meet me on the front deck with some wine so we could talk. She asked if I had any shorts, I nodded that I did, with her saying that with the weather, they would be perfect for an evening on the deck. I took the shower, found my shorts, added a tank top and headed back to the bathroom to do something with my hair. I kept it long; I am not sure for what reason, but a lot of my customers were a part of the hippie era. Hence, I was not alone in the long hair department.
I brushed it, then put it in a high ponytail since it is still wet from the shower, although I did manage to get it towel dry. I slipped on my tennis shoes, then headed down the stairs and out to the deck. Patricia is already there with the wine chilled and glasses ready. She poured me a glass, then asked me to get comfortable. I sipped the wine, a better than average dry white wine with excellent flavor.
We rehashed the earlier conversation; then I stuck my neck out about ways to fulfill the contract without spending large amounts of money. She is very interested in my proposals, wanting as much information as possible. She asked if any other consultants might have another approach that might be feasible. I told her that is doubtful since most of them used only tried, and true principles since the risk with new and different is not worth the chance and their reputation.
She told me that she has already contacted a couple of them by internet this evening, and none of them would hazard a guess as to what might be done. I am glad that she has checked with others, if for nothing else it is taking some of the doubt away from what I have been telling her.
We changed the subject to ourselves, each telling the other a little about our lives and what we do. It turns out she is quite the business lady, owning seven different businesses in northern Arizona. The farm her latest project. She is divorced, not having an itch to try her luck with a man again, and quite happy. She can deal with them, but prefers that the relationship ends with the conclusion of the deal or negotiation.
When she got me talking about myself, she asked if I had future appointments or bookings with my consulting business. I told her no personal visit requests, but I am on retainer for ten businesses as an internet consultant for the next six months. I went into more detail about what all I do, about some of the companies I have worked for, and a brief outline of my interests and hobbies. Actually I didn’t have any hobbies, my work is my sole interest these days, sad but true. I had forced myself to get engrossed in my work, pushing all other interests and concerns aside.
In the last five years I had not taken a personal day or vacation, the idle time making my life even more miserable. Yes, I finally admitted it, my life is basically miserable, and the prospects for anything better do not look promising at the moment.
“Surely, with all of your contacts, you know of an individual that I could hire to supervise the farm operation.” I gave her the names of a couple of females that might be willing to relocate, but told her they were trained only in field production, not of any help with her problem. We moved back inside since the temperature is chilling down quite fast, with her suggesting a late-night snack. I asked, “Do you have the makings for donuts?” she nodded ‘yes’, so I volunteered to mix up a batch of cake donuts, and then we could coat them in chocolate.
We teamed up on the task, and soon we were nibbling on some really good tasting cake donuts. Patricia had made some hot chocolate, to go along with the chocolatey treats, and in front of her fireplace, we consumed more than we should have. Stuffed and uncomfortable, we stretched out on the couch, and with the fire crackling in the background, we both fell asleep.
I woke up first a little after five in the morning but had to extricate myself from Patricia. She had snuggled closer to me during the night, mainly because the fire had died down. Her head is resting on my thigh, as I am leaned up against the end of the sofa. I made my way to the bathroom attached to my room, taking care of normal morning matters, then slipping my clothes off; I took a long and satisfying shower, I was clean from last night, but needed the shower to unwind some. Patricia sleeping on my thigh had affected me more than I realized.
I got dressed for the day, then made my way downstairs. When I got to the kitchen, I managed to find all the ingredients to be able to make coffee, put it together, turned on my computer to see what kind of figures I could produce to let us know if the portable beds would be sufficient production for the contract. With the data that I was able to download, it seemed to be a viable option, so I picked up my cell phone and called Arizona soils. They were a producer of soilless mixes, primarily for the nursery industry, but for what I thought she needed in her operation, it would work fine.
I was sticking my neck out doing it without her permission, but there would be a crew there this morning and nothing for them to do. Time is running out for planting; ever day postponed would make the harvest less likely and smaller. It seems that had been Julie’s aim, to withhold planting till there would be no time to meet the contract. To back up her plan the metals in the soil would deny any organic certificate, thus making the whole thing unfeasible.
They had the soil I wanted ready and would have a truck here shortly after eight this morning. Luckily one of their operations is only an hour away from the farm.
Patricia dragged her body into the kitchen, apologizing for falling asleep last night. “My excuse for this morning is I hate mornings, always have and always will.” She grabbed a cup of coffee, headed for her bedroom, telling me she will get dressed and be back in a jiffy to drive me to the farm. About ten minutes later she returned, looking quite attractive for someone who hates mornings.
We headed out the door, this time taking a Lexus that she had in her garage. “I have ordered some soil, I will pay for the load because I have done it without consulting you.” I am told to hush. “We will work it out later.”
Even though it is early, most of the crew is there awaiting my arrival. They had a couple of tractors with flatbed trailers that the previous owners were going to use for harvesting, but the redwood boxes would fit fine. I organized the ladies into two crews, then got them taking the boxes to the fields where the irrigation systems were complete.
About that time the eighteen-wheeler from Arizona Soils pulled in, with me showing him where to dump the soil. After signing for the load, I hopped on their front end loader and scooped up a load and took it to where the girls were setting up the boxes. I had them shovel the soil into the boxes and moved the loader when necessary to get to the next boxes.
After the first crew had got about a hundred boxes out to the field, I sent them for plants; the plants had been grown in Styrofoam trays to minimize any transplant shock. I showed them the pattern that I wanted the plants placed in the boxes and by lunch, we had a hundred boxes filled, planted, and hooked up to the water system. I was lucky that the way the irrigation system was set up, that it worked for the boxes as well.
Patricia had stayed and watched for a while, but then drove off. She could see that I am busy with the girls and presumed that she would be in the way if she stayed. At lunch, I asked if anyone had heard anything from Julie. “One of the girls had seen her packing her car late yesterday afternoon. Jill asked if this the way we were going to grow the crops? “It is the best that I can come up with, so yes, until something better comes up, this is the preferred method.”
She quoted a research paper describing a similar growing trial, and if it worked for them, it should work for us. I looked at her with a big question mark, where did she come from and why is she here as a worker instead of something higher? She grinned at my questioning look but changed the subject. After lunch, we added enough dolomite to put the pH in the right range and added a side application of a basic organic fertilizer for growth.
Watering would deliver most of the nutrients, the fertilizer added by an injector to the pond water as it is pumped out to the drippers in each box. Before they left, I asked the girls if they could work the next ten days straight because the planting is quite far behind. Before they could ask, I told them that after that, we would be working five days a week from daylight to three or four in the afternoon.
“Because of their hard work today, I will treat them to lunch tomorrow, burgers and salads with iced tea to drink. I have to be careful not to cause their figures to blossom more that they are at the moment, so that will have to do for lunch.” The girls giggled on that note, but all gave me a hug as they left. Jill hung around for a minute. “Are you going to stay on?” I told her only till Patricia could find a female replacement, that being necessary for her business loan. Jill did mention that the government loan officer had come by once already earlier in the startup to check to make sure compliance is being met. Julie was here at that time, so there was no problem.
I made my way to the motel, tired and somewhat gratified at the results that the girls had obtained today. Patricia had wanted me to stay at her house, but I felt a little uneasy at that thought. I know she wanted to be helpful, but there were still some things that did not compute. Jill the main reason, a very intelligent young lady, smarter than her looks, and way too savvy to be just an agricultural student. Thus for at least tonight the motel a safer option.
Final count planted, irrigated and fertilized was three hundred and seventy-five boxes. Quite an accomplishment for one day’s work. Patricia called later in the evening asking how things had gone today, then what I had planned for tomorrow. “To make the deadlines of the contract the planting has to be finished in the next ten days. I have arranged for the girls to work straight through until the planting is finished.”
I asked where I could find some Mexican help to build more boxes. She had some Mexican employees in one of her other businesses and would send someone out to talk to me tomorrow. I asked if what I had told her about is okay with her. “I have complete faith in your judgment, and whatever you have planned would be fine with me.”
She changed the subject, wanting to know if one if the girls had mentioned someone coming from SBA to check for compliance with the minority loan. I told her that it was mentioned, but I didn’t know of anything or anybody to suggest that would help her comply with the minority clause. She asked me to keep a close watch for strangers, and, if possible, avoid interaction with them. “I will but why don’t you just end the loan to keep from having future problems?
She was quiet for several minutes; I finally cleared my throat to let her know that I was still on the line. “There are more reasons, that I can’t disclose at this time why the loan has to stay intact. Why don’t you join me tomorrow night, and I will fill you in?” It sounded sinister in a way; Patricia seemed to have plenty of money, why so uptight about a loan. She had another call, so we ended the conversation.
I am up at dawn, out to the farm before the sun made it up into the sky trying to make last minute plans for today’s work. More of the same thing has to be done, by my figures we needed almost four thousand boxes in production. I hoped that there would be enough redwood left to build the remaining boxes that we needed.
To my surprise Jill arrived shortly after I did, leaving me to my work, she checked the seedlings, and then the fuel and oil on the tractors. There was more here than I suspected, but I am not sure what it is. The rest of the girls arrived, and they started work without me having to say a word. The only thing conveyed is, did I still want more of the same? I nodded, and they went to work.
I have managed agricultural crews in the past, but hardly any like this one. Within minutes of their arrival, the two tractors are heading down the road to the fields with a load of redwood boxes. I sat there for a minute trying to fit a few more pieces of the puzzle into place. Then I suddenly stood up, I think I know some of the reasons for the farm, and the secrecy involved. At lunch, I will probe a little seeing if I am correct. At about eleven, I caught Jill, telling her that I am going to get lunch and should be back in an hour.
I went to the burger joint and got burgers and salads for each girl. I managed to talk them into a tray of accouterments for the burgers, that and a diet drink for everyone completed the lunch menu. When I arrived back, there is a female there, guessing from her dress and government car, it was the SBA lady checking for compliance. Jill made it to me first, helping with the food. “The lady wants to talk to the foreman in charge. I have told her that she is sick today, but would probably return tomorrow.”
Jill was on her game today that is the best excuse without causing red flags to pop up everywhere. I made it look like I am Ms. Hollister’s gofer and had just brought out lunch for the girls. Jill told me, “I have called Patricia, and she is on her way.” She also explained the excuse being presently used to keep everybody’s story on the same channel. As I said, Jill is cooking on all eight cylinders today.
“I have to see a Mexican about a box and will be back once I get the all clear.” One of the wives of Patricia’s workers had come by to tell me that her husband could not come today, but if I wanted to see him, she gave me the address. He is interested in making the boxes, but a deadline for his work is coming up today, and he could not get away.
His workplace was about twenty minutes down the road; it turned out to be a large vacant barn where several Mexicans are busy at work. I introduced myself and showed him a picture of what I wanted, the smile on his face, told me that this is not the first time he had seen the boxes. It turned out that he had built the ones at the farm, they were going to use then to harvest peaches, but the harvesting company had to use plastic ones instead to comply with health requirements. I mentioned that I need four thousand boxes. He said there is enough material there for five thousand if I wanted them.
I asked him how much for the labor and we agreed on 1.20 per box. He had a lot of automated nailers, and two saws set up in the vacant barn. He said he would set up at the farm to keep from adding expenses to the job. I asked how long it would take him, he thought for a minute and told me four days. I looked around; his crew is fast, but that would be phenomenal. He smiled, this is only one of his crews, and he has four more crews, four days at the most.
As I watched the crew assemble the pallets that they were working on, they did it with speed and precision. I was meandering back to the truck when my cell phone rang. It is Jill, and she told me the SBA lady had gone, but the visit prompted by a phone call from Julie, that there is no knowledgeable individual, and no female leading the operation. “She wants to meet the foreman or supervisor in the next few days, to make sure that the operation is still being run in a logical and profitable manner, and also adhering to the terms of the loan,” said Jill.
I am informed that Patricia had talked to her, and a meeting has been set up the day after tomorrow. I wondered who Patricia is going to introduce her to; maybe she has found a female to run the show. I drove back to the farm, checked in on the girls, and then made my way to Patricia’s house. Before I left I noticed Jill running the front end loader like she was a pro, obviously she is not new to this.
Jill and the girls are making good progress with the planting; they were on schedule to finish within the time specified by me. A few of the first plantings are beginning to respond to the nutrients being provided, a good sign that the crops are off to a good start.
When I arrived at Patricia’s, she greeted me at the door, then literally dragged me into the living room, asking me to sit. She asked if I needed something to drink, I declined, maybe a little later. She sat next to me on the sofa and told me about her conversation with the lady from SBA. Julie had indeed called her, telling her that the farm is unsupervised and lacking in any qualified individual to oversee the operations. Patricia was able to find out that Julie had called from back east, not from around here.
Patricia told the SBA that Julie was caught sabotaging the operation by spreading contaminants that would cause the land to be declared not organic. She showed Ms. Williams my reports showing the contamination and the levels of pollutants in the soil. She assured her that steps were being taken to use the land, but in a different way that would allow the organic certification. Ms. Williams understood, but wanted to know what is being done to provide qualified and experienced leadership for the operation. Patricia told her that she had somebody here now with the experience, but due to all of the problems that she inherited, it would be a couple of days before she could meet her.
Patricia looked at me with a wishful look, and asked if I would consider becoming a partner in the operation. I started to respond, but she asked that I wait until she had explained all that was involved. She then told me, “The idea of the farm was conceived several years ago. My son from a short unprotected romance wanted to have a business of his own. I have had him at different private schools to learn agricultural practices and procedures. He has done well, learned his lessons and is quite smart. During this schooling my son requested some other changes to be made to his life.”
I hazarded a guess at this point; I mouthed ‘Jill’, and Patricia just smiled. “Yes, my son is now Jill, completing her requirements for transition to a female. Jill is independent, wanting to live on her own and earn her own way. She has made great strides in her studies and her life, and I am proud of her.” I asked why she didn’t make Jill manager. Her reply was, “Jill doesn’t want it yet. She wants to work her way up, to do each job herself to experience the business from the ground up.“The girls, and especially Jill love you; you tell them what needs to be done, then let them do it. You have showed faith in them to do the job correctly, never needing to reprimand them for something, you instead, showed them a better way to accomplish the task. Eventually, when Jill is ready, the business will be hers, to do what she wishes with it, with a few clauses inserted in the agreement. She will have a controlling interest in the business with a forty percent share of the business. I have currently a sixty percent share of the business due to the fact that I furnished the funds for startup, and actually signed and guaranteed the loan.
“I want you to join me as equal partners in the business with each of us having a thirty percent share. Jill is okay with this, in fact, it was her that suggested the deal. The girls are her friends, ones that have been abused or thrown out by their families; without Jill and their jobs, they would not be able to support themselves or continue their education. Most are like Jill, males that are female inside, but male on the exterior. All of the girls are still in school taking night courses or correspondence courses to further their education.”
It didn’t take me long to nod that I would accept, but Patricia told me to wait; the part of the deal that will be difficult to accept is still to come. She took a deep breath and just let it flow out of her mouth. “It will be necessary for you to become a female to keep the loan from being called in. I have some assets that are not tied up at the moment, but I don’t have the funds to replace the loan at this time, thus the necessity to keep the loan viable.”
I just stared at her, not having any idea of what to say or do. I knew there was more to this than what was on the surface, but this is not what I had envisioned. I usually retreated to nature when I had a big decision to make. I asked Patricia if I could be excused to walk around a little outside and think for a while. She said sure. “Down the trail out of the back door is a path that leads to the side of the hill that she had built on. The view there is quite spectacular and soothing, and the path is lit by a string of solar lights leading the way.” I thanked her and left out the back door.
The path is where she said it was, and several minutes later I am overlooking the valley. Someone had built a bench there, so I parked my body there and contemplated what I had been told and was asked to do. I felt so out of it, how does a male cope with being asked to become a female for a while? I wondered if it is even possible to be disguised as a female, but is it even a disguise. I would have to work as a female for a while. I know that Ms. Williams would be back several times in the next few weeks making sure that all was going as planned, an unfortunate characteristic of a government employee, our tax dollars at work.
I am surprised and shocked to see Jill coming up the path; I know Patricia is her mother, but I have never seen the two together other than a brief encounter, and never here at Patricia’s house. Jill asked if she could sit with me, I moved over, and she sat close to me. We were both quiet for a time, me, because I am still trying to deal with everything, Jill I am not sure. She broke the silence first, telling me that she has the utmost respect for me, my knowledge, and my caring personality.It was her idea alone, Patricia went along with it, but she was the one that cooked up the idea to have me impersonate a female employee. “If you haven’t realized it, I like you a lot, in fact, all the girls think you are awesome. You have stuck your neck out to help, already saving our butts from the contamination. You are decisive, not afraid to make a decision and stand behind it, a trait that is most becoming to you.
“As you are aware, I am a transsexual, Patricia’s son soon to be her daughter. I have known that I was a female at heart from my first thoughts. Most transsexuals are like me, but a few do not discover their true gender until later in life. I sincerely hope you will do this to keep the farm dream viable, and just maybe become aware of something in your inner being. I always call Patricia Mommy when we are in private; she is the best Mommy a girl could have. If you allow me, I would be pleased to call you Mom too, for that is how I see you. You teach, make me behave, and care for what happens to me, just like a Mom, besides a girl can’t have too many Moms.” A big smile came to Jill’s face and she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, telling me that she would see me at work in the morning. Then in a very upbeat tone of voice, “Thanks, Mom.” Now when you have that kind of pressure put on you, how can you refuse the request? I walked back to the house, a little lighter in step, but just as apprehensive as to whether I could pull it off. Patricia is sitting on the back porch waiting for me, smiling as I made my way there.
I told her that it wasn’t fair sicking the dogs on me, she just giggled and then asked, “Are you agreeable to the idea?” I nodded ‘yes’, still unsure as to the outcome, “I will give it a try.” As I stepped up on the porch, she put her arms around me and gave me a tender hug and a passionate kiss. I pulled back after a minute to look her in the eyes, with her giggling way too much. She told me that she has wanted to do that for a long time, and now that Carlie was a player there is no time like the present to start a relationship. A relationship and when did Carlie come into the picture?
She told me that Jill had made appointments at her salon for the next morning, right after I gave the crews their work for the day. Patricia told me that I would be moving in with her tomorrow, permanently, so get that through your thick head! She grabbed my hand and led me upstairs to a different bedroom than I had used before, the décor is more feminine, and the vanity, attached bathroom, and super large walk-in closet are obviously for a female guest, in this case probably me. I looked around, noticing clothes hanging in the closet, and the obvious missing items of my male apparel. Patricia helped me to remove my clothes, with me just standing there, not knowing what I should be doing, if anything. When I am naked, I am pushed into the bathroom and told to get into the tub of bubbles. Highly scented bubbles to be exact.
I slipped into the water, and I am soon forgetting what is happening. The water is so comfortable, the scent wafting through my nose, and the bubbles, helping make everything seem so insignificant, a treat for sure. Where have bubble baths been all my life, this is heaven, I may never leave this bath. Patricia is gathering up my male clothes and leaving the bedroom. From my viewpoint in the bath, I sensed that my change of gender is starting tonight. She returned a little later telling me that I had to get out, laying a pair of panties and a nightie on the sink.
I stood up, noticing right away the change in my skin texture. It felt so alive, kind of tingling, smooth and silky, and definitely not what I am used to. I dried myself off, then slid the panties up my legs, embarrassed to say the least, but the sensuous feeling as they slid up my legs more than made up for my embarrassment. As I let the nightie slide over my shoulders, I thought I was going to orgasm. Never in my life as a male, have two pieces of clothing had such an impact on me.
Maybe I have been missing out on a big part of my life, but to change gender after so many years as a male can’t be right. Patricia came into the bedroom and had me sit at the vanity while pulling out a hairbrush from the drawer. She stood behind me brushing my hair, a truly wonderful feeling washed over my body. She had changed into her nightie, and I could see her nipples pointing their way through the thin material.
After the brushing, she rubbed some creams on my face, then put my hair into a braid with a ribbon at the end to keep it secure. We adjourned to her bedroom, and she pulled me down so that I was lying next to her. She cuddled me, and we fell asleep soon after. I extricated myself from her arms a little after five in the morning. I was starved since we had fallen asleep before anyone got around to fix something to eat last night. I made my way to my new room and looked for some clothes. It was apparent that all of my male clothes had vanished somewhere.
In the closet, I found a pair of jeans, female of course, but they did fit, although much too snug in my opinion. I had to rearrange my male appendages since the sight of them in the tight jeans was far from attractive. I found a tank top, similar to what I often wear, but the color was much more feminine, a peachy pink would be an adequate description. I found a long sleeved shirt, not very feminine except for the color of the print. Since I wanted to get to the farm early, and no male clothes, this would have to do.
Down in the kitchen, I made coffee, then stirred up some pancakes with some warmed up preserves for a topping. I was going to wake Patricia, but at that moment, she came down the stairs. She walked up to me, planted a wet and sensuous kiss on my lips, then hauled off and swatted my shoulder. I looked at her with a puzzled expression, but when she exclaimed that if I keep doing this every morning, she will get fat, and it would all be my fault. I giggled, a new form of expression for me, and Patricia had definitely noticed the slip.
She told me where the salon was located, another of her businesses, and that my appointment was for ten-thirty. My technician’s name was Cynthia, and by the end of the day, I would be of the correct gender. She asked me to take it all in stride and don’t panic. The technology is new, but it is all reversible in a few weeks. Be prepared for a big change, they are good at what they do, and the procedures are guaranteed to make a female out of you.
It will take several hours for them to accomplish their magic, so I will meet you there at six tonight. We can get a little dinner and then we can come home and have unlimited lesbian sex. Won’t that be fun, then she giggled? Patricia is enjoying this far too much, but I failed to realize just how much she looked forward to my upcoming change.
made it to the farm, an hour earlier than the start time to find the girls already at work. As I drove up, the headlights of the tractors reflected back at me as I made my way to the office. Jill had everything lined up, and the trailers are already loaded with redwood boxes. She came over to me, gave me a hug and cheek kiss, asking how I was? I told her okay since I am on my way to the salon, her snarky comment is, “They will treat you right Mom.” I did insist that the Mom comments went no further than between her and I. I didn’t want the SBA lady to hear anything that might cause more investigation into my past.
I checked the first plantings, still looking good, and watched as the tractors left the barn. All the girls were waving to my utter embarrassment. I can see that I will have to straighten Jill out and soon. Secretly though, I loved the sentiment; the girls in a way were very special to me and definitely not just employees. That is a totally different thought for me; I had never got close enough to anyone to consider a relationship with them. Somehow working with the girls the last few days had made me aware of their sincerity, their dedication to the job. Since most of the girls were male at some point in their life, an even more amazing fact.
The drive to the salon took about thirty minutes, with me arriving early for my ten-thirty appointment. The salon is definitely not what I was expecting, a surreal expression of femininity would be a start at describing this place. I almost felt feminine just entering the salon. Cynthia is at reception, and as soon as one of the other girls came up to spell her, I am taken back to her ‘dungeon’, her words. She is all business, with her first command to strip now! I gave her a look, but she just giggled. “If you can’t have fun doing what you like to do, it quickly becomes other than fun.”
I removed my clothes, intimidated by her forwardness, but also eager to see the results of my transformation today. I know, a male looking forward to becoming a female, obviously he has either no brains or he has lost the ability to use any of his cranial matter. I never did have a lot of male friends, but I am sure that none of them would contemplate what I had allowed myself to be talked into. The reasons for doing this are logical, but surely there would have been an alternate way to get to the same end. I never did explore if there was another way to finance the loan that would not require me to change genders.
Cynthia kept the ‘dungeon’ theme going as she laid me back on a table and strapped my wrists to the sides and my ankles to the stirrups extending from the end of the table. I gave her another look, but she responded that I might react badly to what she is going to do now, thus the reasons for the restraints. Then with a giggle, she told me, “The fun part comes later when I will separate your legs and make a wish.” I giggled at that too; now, she has me doing the giggle thing. Hot wax, cloth strips, and Cynthia getting her frustrations taken care of, pretty much summed up the next hour. She apparently is severally frustrated, since the cloth strips were removed with quite a bit of force, and very rapidly.
The end result is a body with no hair, and I do mean no hair. From the hair on the top of my head down there was not a single hair follicle left on my body. The groin included, that alone the reason for the restraints. She then told me, “I am sure you would have decked someone if you could have reached them.” Cynthia stated that fact after the area is waxed! I am able to get a few words out among the tears, asking why the whole eyebrow was removed. She simply replied that she thought that they were shaped wrong.
I know it was said in jest, but the tears continued, with me seeing nothing funny about it. After she had finished removing hair, she rubbed some cream in all of the affected areas. She did it with such caring that I soon lost my hostility toward her. She did explain later that the groin is done so she could remove my penis without all of the hair getting in the way, a slight impish smile as she said that. She is looking to see if I am going to react, I told her, “That it is always in the way.” And she replied, “It will be good to have the extra room down there now.”
She did tell me that the prosthetic vagina they attached needed to be aplied to clean smooth skin, and the eyebrows are too low for a convincing female look. She appeared a few minutes later with a knife and some band aids, telling me that it will only hurt for a minute or two, but while she is at it, another hole could be added to use for whatever I deemed necessary. Thankfully she laid the knife on another table, then sprayed my groin with something and I lost all feeling down there. About an hour later, I didn’t have a clock to see just how long it took her to hide my male member among the lips and slit of a female.
She slipped her finger into my new female appendage, carefully moving it around until she hit the spot she was aiming for. I tried to raise up, the straps keeping me prone on the table, she smiled and told me that is just not any fun unless you can have an orgasm. My mouth stayed open for several minutes before she felt sorry for me and pushed it closed. She whispered in my ear that you will now be able to have sex with a male, or with a dildo, and have a female orgasm. Next is your boobies, and then you can have an orgasm without penetration. My mind was off to the races, scenario after scenario, wondering if I ever will take advantage of this new information. Over the years my work has pretty much taken over my life, in fact, it has been three years since my last date with a female.
I still like them, just no desire to play the games involved with dating these days, and definitely not wanting a lasting relationship or marriage. No, no, way too many friends that went that route, all of them now divorced, paying alimony, and a few with kids that don’t know what a family is. Come to think of it, there was one girl that I was friendly with, that had found a mate, started a family and was still married ten years later, a definite exception.
Cynthia’s attention now moved to my chest, soon to be home to my new breasts. A fairly large machine is wheeled into the room with a pump on a lower shelf and two cups hanging from an arm attached to a pole coming from the base. Hoses run from the cups to the pump; I presumed this is the method for me to obtain breasts. The cups are positioned on my chest and some sealant added to the edges. The pump is turned on, and my skin and tissue is slowly being stretched and sucked into the form. After a few minutes it starts alternating between sucking and relaxing, this pulsating keeps up for quite some time. Later I found out that the forms were on my chest for five hours so far. I guess time flies by when you are having fun.
After the pump is turned off, the forms were left for another hour as the tissue becomes stable. A few minutes after that she injects a syringe in each nipple through a hole in the forms, then presents me with a big smile. The breast quivers a little, as I am told that the forms stay on until they dissolve themselves in two to three days. Already the forms are more flexible and less rigid. The weight surprises me, much heavier than I imagined a breast weighed. The nipples get erect, and a few tingles run through my body.
She had released my hands before she started and quickly placed one each on my new breasts. I held them as instructed for about fifteen minutes. Then she moved my hands away and touched the nipple on each breast; the resulting touch was felt throughout my new breast, even through the end of the form. Then she caressed the nipple and lightly pinched it, and the sensations reverberated through my breasts. Mouth open again, she closed it, asking if I wanted more fun now, or wait until my lover could spend the time with me?
I somehow managed the words my lover, but since my mind had melted into a big blob of goo, I am really not sure what I meant or said. I laid there for quite some time, Cynthia setting up the next treatment in the meantime. I do recall one thought that quickly crossed my mind; that is Jill maybe has something here, the sensations so much better as a female than any that I had experienced as a male.
I am helped up, given a robe that covered very little and moved over to a salon chair. My hair is next, as Cynthia leaned the chair back and washed and conditioned my hair. Then another mixture is spread through my hair and a plastic bag inverted over my hair. She told me not to go anywhere she will be right back. Naked with breasts and vulva, with junk on my hair, now just where would I go?
After thirty minutes she returned, leaned the chair back again, and rinsed the mixture out of my hair. She then dried it with a towel and combed it out making small sections and pinning them with a clip. Then with scissors in hand, she started cutting my hair. I asked what style she was going for; her reply was a short curly bob, something I could work in, but still make super feminine when necessary. As she worked through all the sections, she complimented me on my calmness, not overreacting to all the things being done to me.
A lot of their customers are transgendered, wanting the transformations, but according to my files, I am not considered to be transgender. I told her it is a favor for a couple of friends; I just hope that I can pull it off. I asked if she knew Jill, her smile confirming that she did. She is working on me as a favor for Jill; they had discussed my participation in this and what would be best for me. Cynthia told me that I would be surprised at my image after all the treatments, you will make a very attractive woman.
After she had finished cutting my hair, she got out the curlers, three different sizes depending on where on my head the curler is put. She even had me put three or four curlers in my own hair. I noticed in the mirror that my hair was now blonde, not a light shade, but definitely blonde once the hair is dried. Under a dryer for an hour, then the curlers were removed, springy curls all over the place. She brushed them out a little showing me how to refresh them in the morning for myself.
Next is some makeup, although my image with the curly bob is definitely that of a female even without the cosmetics. Cynthia showed me only the basics, mascara, some concealer, and lipstick with lip liner. It was easy; I think I could even handle this without much problem. Then some clothes for tonight, tomorrow she will help me practice the hairstyle, the makeup and walking in heels. Then I get my girl card, and can return to my job.
The clothes turned out to be panties, a bra, and slacks with a cute blouse to top it off. The bra felt good; already my shoulders were noticing the heavier weight now attached to my chest. The bra spread the weight a little and the jiggling of my chest was much calmer than before. I won’t comment on the panties or the style that was given me. Obviously, Cynthia was not done fooling with me. The goose pimples that popped up everywhere as the panties slid up my legs were an indication of their effect on me. The fact that I was almost as naked with them on, an indication of how much they covered. The narrow strap that ran up between my ass cheeks though was just plain evil. I doubt I will ever get used to panties like those.
The blouse is long sleeved, but with lace everywhere. When looking down at my breasts, there seemed to be layer after layer of lace between my neck and my waist. Then as I am trying to maneuver in it, I discovered that the blouse buttoned up the back. I asked Cynthia how was I supposed to get the buttons fastened, she just smiled until you learn to bend your arms the right way, you are dependent on someone else to help you. As she buttoned the back buttons, it was like the blouse is made for me, then to my horror, the lace parted a little just above my breasts and a keyhole opening lined with lace ruffles became apparent.
The slacks fit snug; my female figure not thoroughly presentable yet, some adjustments in the waist necessary for optimum results. Cynthia told me that tomorrow my female figure would be addressed, my voice handled in a satisfactory way, my beard done away with, and lessons in walking in heels and cosmetics completing my lessons. Then when everything is completed, my new ID would be issued, showing me as a female. I looked a little cynically at her, she just smiled telling me that they had connections, as long as I didn’t start robbing banks, the IDs would be adequate.
Patricia showed up a little later, smiling as she saw me come to the front of the salon. She held out her hand as if to shake it, but apparently thought better of it. She hugged me leaning me back and giving me a toe curling kiss. When I am allowed back up, I was panting for some breath, wow where did that come from! I tried to pay for the services but Patricia told me my transformation had been already handled, I still insisted on giving Cynthia a tip. No, I didn’t advise her of some stocks to buy, I handed her some bills from my wallet and thanked her for the experience. She giggled, telling me same time tomorrow; she would have the ‘dungeon’ ready.
The ride to Patricia’s is uneventful; I am lost in a sea of emotions and feminine feelings. Patricia is trying hard to focus on her driving; my apparent feminine looks being quite a distraction for her. When we arrived, Jill is out the door and over to the car before I could get out of it. I was hugged as if we hadn’t seen each other in years. She released the hug a little so she could get a better look at me, her smile conveying her approval of my looks.
Jill grabbed both Patricia’s and my hand and led us into the cabin. She had been busy, the dining room table is set, and the aroma of food wafting through the home is making me hungry. She pulled out both of our chairs, making sure we are seated properly, then handing us a cloth napkin for our laps. She poured us some wine; I later learned a very expensive selection from a little-known vineyard in Northern California. Then she brought us our salads, dressing, and some homemade crackers she had made.
The meal is delicious, a roasted chicken, that had been coated in her own homemade barbecue sauce. Baked potatoes with a sour cream sauce and a broccoli dish with the same sauce completed the menu. For dessert, she had made some delicious cookies that I couldn’t figure out what is in them. She finally told me that they were made with organic sugar and five different vegetables. I raised my eyebrows; there is no way that cookies this good could be made with vegetables, but Jill showed me the recipe to prove her point.
I complimented her on the meal, and thanked her for all she had done for me. She hugged me again, telling me how happy she is to have two such wonderful Moms, one of which is really shaping up nicely. She giggled asking me if I liked Cynthia, I moaned telling her that I could never tell if she is serious or pulling my leg. Jill just replied that you would never get to that point with her that is just the way she is.
We adjourned to the living room, Jill clearing the table after refusing any help from her Moms. Then she came prancing in telling us to be good, not staying up too late since we were getting older we needed all the beauty sleep we could get. Both Patricia and I took off after her, but she escaped our wrath, yelling from the door that she would see me in the morning. We both giggled, with me telling Patricia that she has a wonderful daughter. Pat just smiled, agreeing with two Moms to look after her.
I am led to the bedroom, quickly undressed, and before I know it, am flat on my back with Pat dangling her boobs in my face. Her lips are glued to mine, with her tongue doing all kinds of wonderful things to my mouth. Her mouth eventually left my face, but instead of any rest, her mouth became attached to one of my nipples. I tried to take in a deep breath as she touched my nipple, but her fingers on my other nipple left me floating in space.
I found it impossible to handle all the feelings and sensations pulsating through my body. It was like I had stuck my finger in a light socket, unable to remove it from the device! Then she moved her one hand further down my female figure, and I held my breath fearing the reaction when she got there. I thought she might be looking for junior, but, instead, she inserts her finger into my new orifice. I think she found what she is looking for, and it’s not junior.
Now even more erotic sensations are heading to my brain, way too many to process. I start to shake, moan, and otherwise handle myself in a very unmanly manner. I am twisting around on the bed wanting her to do more and at the same time telling her to stop; I can’t take any more. Finally, the load is too much, and I collapse, losing consciousness, although I think I remember yelling ‘yes’ very loudly as everything faded away.
I open my eyes a little, the light subdued in the room, and turn to a figure that I feel is laying against me on my right side.
“Glad you could rejoin me, it is more fun when there are two people participating in the action, but I will have to admit what you lack in experience, you more than make up in enthusiasm. Most likely Jill heard your enthusiastic response to our love making half way down the mountain. For that, you will have to make an excuse, as she knows her one Mom is reserved and conservative.”
I blushed every color imaginable, not only for my enthusiastic response, but the fact that I had even participated in the relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it, it’s just that I submitted to sex as a female willingly, when all of my prior experience is from the other side. If last night is any indication, I have been wasting my time as a male.
I wanted to return the favor to Patricia, but she told me that she got a lot of pleasure from sending me up and away, enough for tonight. Maybe tomorrow, she will let me practice my skills some, then be ready for a pop quiz later in the week. I was never good at quizzes, so I imagine that I will have to practice extensively.
We cuddled for a while, then first Patricia, and then I drifted off to sleep, both with huge smiles on our faces. I dreamed all the remaining hours of the night, about breasts, orgasms, kissing, even getting dressed to go to a fancy ball. I was shaken awake, Patricia telling me that I need to get going since I have more to do to make myself presentable. I was helped with my bra, actually looking forward to wearing it. The movement of my breasts are very unsettling to me, the bra helping immensely. Some jeans and a blouse completed the look; then a high ponytail made me look a little more feminine.
I drove to the farm, all of the girls already working as I drove up. They all stopped, and came up to my truck, wanting to see the new me. I received lots of compliments, they all wanted to know when I would be completed, curious as to what else could be done?
I checked on everything they were doing, the first plants they had planted were showing some surprising results. If this continued, we would be able to supply veggies sooner than anticipated. Jill ended up pushing me to leave, her words, “You don’t want to make Cynthia upset, you may never be able to stand to pee again!” With that thought lodged in my brain, I drove off to my appointment.
Cynthia was waiting for me looking at her watch and shaking her head. She grabbed my hand and led me off to her ‘dungeon’. She helped me get my clothes off, then seated me in her chair. First, she strapped my wrists to the arm of the chair, then put my ankles in a half form that ran from my ankle to my knee with my foot pointed straight down. It is like I am standing on my toes. She then strapped the leg into this form making sure the back of my legs are firmly against the form. Then taking two syringes she injects one each in the calf of my leg, the syringes are fairly large, it taking a minute to get the liquid into my leg.
Then she moves to my breasts, taking a bottle of brownish red fluid and brushing in on my nipples and what would be my areola if I had natural breasts. She tells me that it is stain, soaking into and staining the skin around the nipple. The results should last for a year, without any fading. I quickly realized that this is not a temporary solution to a problem. I would be female in looks for quite some time, if not for longer. It concerned me, but I seemed to not get obsessed with it. My breasts requiring more than simple procedures to remove them, the recently colored areola just the latest semi-permanent change to my body.
I had been in the leg forms for an hour when Cynthia came and released me. She released my arms and helped me to stand, the minute my foot landed on the ground; I am standing on my tip toes. I tried to lower my heel, but it wouldn’t budge. She placed a pair of high heels next to my feet, and I slipped them on. I tried walking and had no difficulty in maneuvering in the heels. Then it sunk in, I would be required to wear heels now, all the time to be able to walk. Cynthia smiled, she and Jill had talked at length on how they would be able to make a female out of me, my background and doing things as a male would make any transformation marginal. She did confirm, heels would be required now anytime I wanted to walk anywhere, even at night, a pair of mules would be necessary to get to the bathroom.
Their solution is to make me extra feminine, working in the fields impossible because of the heels, the changes to my hair and makeup requiring that I present as a female all the time. I regretted not being able to get down and dirty like I used to, but something in the back of my mind, seemed to click, maybe all of this femininity wouldn’t be so bad.
Back to her station, she had me do my hair several different ways, insisting that I do it myself so that I could make myself presentable as a female every morning. The biggest difficulty is holding my hands over my head as I brushed and styled my hair. Cynthia told me it would become second nature quickly; a female always concerned about her hair and makeup all through the day. We moved from hair to makeup; she had me removing and reapplying my minimal makeup several times during the next several hours, each time she would have me cleanse my face and start from scratch. I guess repetition is good, by the third or fourth time I had applied the cosmetics, she is happy with my efforts.
We tackled walking as a female, then for the next two hours, one foot in front of the other, shorter steps, and with a gentle hip sway. Around the salon, till I am walking without thinking about what I am doing. She insisted in pencil skirts for the next few weeks, the tightness of the skirt would make my walk much more feminine.
Since clothing is now in the discussion, she led me through another door at the side of the salon into their clothing store. Two hours of trying different outfits on, changing clothes far more times than I had as a male, in a month’s time. The final result is sixteen new outfits, mostly skirts, but a few pants made it into the selected items. The pants were not normal, wide legs, extra tight fitting, or colors that screamed female. She informed me that I would have to come back to get more clothes in the next week or two, a no-no to ever wear the same outfit twice in a month.
I loaded my new clothes in my truck, gave Cynthia a hug, and then slipped her some money as a tip. She tried to refuse, but I insisted, the least I could do for all she has done for me. A stunning transformation, plus live entertainment as the procedures progressed. As I was heading out the door, she reminded me that I had an appointment every Friday with her at three P.M. for the duration. I gave her a hug and then a cheek kiss, and hightailed it before she could retaliate. Hard to do in heels, but I managed. Cynthia frowns on the show of affection, but I decided to ignore her, she has helped talk me through many things in the last day or two.
I drove back to the farm, planning on seeing what the girls were up to. To my surprise, Ms. Williams is there talking with Jill. My mind kicked in, no time like the present to jump in. I walked over to her, introduced myself and asked her how I could help her today. She eyed me up, from head to toe, then formed an opinion of me instantly. I saw the look, have seen it on countless government officials in my years of experience. There is only one way to change their mind, and I prepared to do just that. I suggested we walk over to the greenhouses, and I would start her education.
I showed what we are doing, named all of the plants that we are growing and their proper growing conditions. I took her in the truck to one of the recently planted fields, telling her what fertilizer we are using, the need for a proper ph. to ensure growth and explained our watering schedule and the soil less mixes we are using. Then we walked over to some of the first fields we had planted and showed her the results when things are done properly. I drove her back to the office, asking her if she still had doubts about my ability to run the farm. If so, I would give her a list of references that I have worked for over the last few years, and she could check with any of them on my credentials.
She is very quiet; then I guess her curiosity got the best of her, and she asked if I always worked in heels and tight skirts. I smiled, Jill and the girls are quite competent, I only need to give directions and advice if problems arise, now, as to why I wear heels and skirts all the time, it is none of your business. Unless you have more pertinent questions, my girls and I have work to do. While showing her around, I had made a decision, to have to put up with this crap, to be checked on by somebody who probably had trouble remembering their own name is ridiculous.
As soon as she left, Jill hugged me tightly and said, “Thanks, that bitch had it coming for so long.” I told Jill, “I probably pissed her off, and I needed to see your Mom, and pay off the loan before she can make trouble for us.”
Jill called her Mom, and we agreed to meet at her bank in thirty minutes. I knew I would be told to leave things alone, but since I am a partner in this now, that is not going to happen. I met Patricia at the bank, and she started trying to talk me out of doing anything. I simply asked, “What is the payoff on the loan?” while I’m dragging my checkbook out of my purse. She finally passed me the loan payment book, and there at the top is the payoff amount. I wrote the check, and gave it to one of the bank executives.
Of course, he would have to make sure the check is good; I told him to get with it; I wanted a paid in full receipt before I left the bank. He was gone about twenty minutes, when a distinguished lady appeared. She invited Patricia and me to her office, then handed me the receipt I had asked for. She asked Patricia, “Has the bank’s service been adequate up to now, forgetting about the last twenty minutes.”
Patricia smiled, “Yes, it has been quite satisfactory.” Then Barbara asked me if I might consider moving my funds here with Patricia? She would guarantee that I would not have to deal with any more male employees that obviously think they know too much. I giggled, then asked her, “What changed all of a sudden?”
The report came back on me, my financial worth, and my employment record for the last ten years, all quite satisfactory. “The clincher was when I received a phone call from a Ms. Williams informing me that the bank was to call in the loan. I asked her why, and she described your conversation this afternoon, and what you had said to her to piss her off. I always record all my calls both incoming and outgoing.
Then, when that idiot in my employ came into my office to check on you. I knew I wanted to meet you. While the inquiry on your personal finances was in progress, I called Ms. Williams’ boss, a close personal friend of mine. I explained the situation and what she had told me. I doubted that you were the cause, as several of her customers have also complained in the past about her actions. There will be a formal inquiry into her actions, most likely right before she is fired. I told my friend that you had paid off the loan, to keep her from taking action against you. If you want the loan reinstated, or a new loan later, I am sure you will have no difficulty in arranging one with us.
Now think it over about moving your accounts here, we would love to have you as a customer.” I told her, “There is an issue with proper ID, something I need to straighten out before I can do anything.” Barbara looked over at Patricia and then the two of them broke into laughter. Alright, what is this all about, what have I not been told? Patricia took my purse and opened it, pulling out my billfold, then suggested that I remove my driver’s license and take a look at it. I did so, and when my brain connected, the red of embarrassment spread from my toes to the top of my head. There is my license with female as the gender and a picture of me at the salon for the photo.
Barbara asked if she could open me an account now, or did I want to go over to the competition. I tried to respond, but the redness had affected more than just my skin color. Only short three or four word phrases emerged from my mouth, none of the phrases making any sense. When I am asked again, if I wished to open an account, I nodded in agreement. She got the forms and filled out as much as she could then handed them to me to finish filling in the blanks. I wrote out a check to open the account, then asked the account number so that I could transfer the remaining funds in my other accounts to the new one.
By the time all of this is being wrapped up, I had regained a little of my composure. When Barbara went to handle the deposits, I asked Patricia if she is sure of all of this, “You know that I don’t chase off easily. That means you are stuck with me for the duration.” Patricia smiled, “I need that in writing so I can get it witnessed.”
I was handed my deposit slips and we were off. I called Jill, making sure that all things at the farm were handled, Patricia grabbing my phone telling her that I am going to be tied up for a while, but available the next morning. “Whatever needs handling, just do it! Your parents need to handle some personal matters this afternoon.”
As she ended the call, I could hear Jill giggling in the background. We drove back to her house and I am escorted in and up the stairs to her bedroom, pushed in and told to disrobe, that means everything. I undressed and was promptly laid on my back, with her sitting on my stomach. I squirmed a little, but she took my hands and pulled them over my head. She is rubbing them and stretching them out making me reach a little higher. Then, I heard two clicks and discovered that I was now tied to the bed. At least, Patricia didn’t lie when she told Jill that I would be tied up. My feet were soon handled in the same way, now me and the bed seemed as one. She scooted off to retrieve something, smiling and telling me not to go anywhere.
When she returned, I saw a ball gag and a blindfold. I started to protest, but she assured me that it is necessary since the last time we tried this you were far too vocal. She slipped it into my mouth, with me protesting that this is not how you treat a business partner. As the gag slipped behind my teeth, she asked me to repeat what I said, my mumbling the only sound in the room. She assured me that she would see to my needs, and my request to be toyed with until morning a bit unusual, but easily accommodated. The blindfold is next and my world suddenly became dark. Without my eyesight, I listened to what sounds I heard, trying to figure out what she is doing.
It turned out to be a long night, I moaned, thrashed about, squirmed and generally tried to avoid the inevitable. Patricia is very focused, exploring all of my orifices, and doing wonderful things to me all during the night. A couple of times when activity ceased for a while, I almost slipped off to sleep, only to be awakened again with her mouth on my nipples or other erotic areas. Finally, late in the night, I gave up and just lay there riding the waves of pleasure that constantly rocked my body.
When I awoke with a beam of sunshine trying to bore through my eye, I quickly noticed that I am unrestrained, then checking the bed found that I am alone. I heard noise from downstairs, I presume Patricia making something for breakfast. I found a robe to put over the nightie that I somehow slipped into last night and made my way downstairs.
I stood in the doorway to the kitchen gazing at the sight of Patricia naked as the day she was born cooking breakfast. I made my way over to her, nuzzling her neck and groping her pert breasts. She leaned back against me and groaned, causing me to lose it. I giggled, then laughed as the insaneness came to my mind. I had been tied up all night naked and ravaged, then awoke to being dressed in a nightie with Patricia cooking breakfast sans any clothes.
What have I got myself into, whatever it was I never want to be released from this situation? The phone rang and since I am the closest to it, I answered it. Jill wanted to know if I am coming to work, or was I still diddling with one of the owners? Her laughter resonated at the other end of the line.
I told her I would be there eventually, just to handle it till I managed to make it in. Her ‘Aye, Aye Mom’ to my request, then giggled till she hung up the phone. I really needed to see to the discipline of my new daughter, but presumed quickly that it is a lost cause, considering how her mother treated me.
Breakfast is awesome, eating eggs, bacon and sausage while looking at a nude female, definitely does it for me. As I helped her clean up, I felt my nightie being lifted and tugged here and there, than raised above my head and tied off, trapping my arms in the top part of the gown. I presume Jill will have to watch the farm for a while longer while I get seen to by her Mother.
At twelve-thirty, I managed to get to the farm, dressed like a young female out to visit the parents on their farm. Mainly Patricia’s idea, my outfit consisted of a plaid shirt tied off around the waist and a pair of jean cutoffs ragged and worn from several washings. Makeup too, no self-respecting female goes to work without some makeup. The girls took one look at me and screamed their delight. I was hugged and kissed and otherwise manipulated until I finally told them in my Mom voice that they needed to get to work. The tractors pulled out shortly thereafter, them waving enthusiastically, it seems my daughter has corrupted the entire work force.
I checked on the progress of the crops, everything was making phenomenal growth, I guess the study is right, soilless mixes above ground make for excellent growing conditions. Everything looked good as I walked around the farm, after the workout I have recently been put through, I needed some fresh air and gentle exercise. As I came upon the girls planting the last of the boxes, that the Mexicans had put together, I sat and watched as they approached the job. Jill was running the front-end loader bringing the soil for the boxes, the other girls filling the redwood boxes, and then while Jill went to get more soil they planted the ones they had just filled.
When Jill returned, she shut off the tractor for a minute wanting to know if she can fertilize the first plantings again. I started to question the fertility levels, but Jill ever on the ball gave me the Nitrogen, Phosphorus, and the Potassium levels without me asking. The readings were a little low so I told her to go ahead, but only at half strength. I got the smart teenager dumb parent look. “Well duh, what did you think I was going to hit them with a full strength solution?” Then she drove off giggling loudly.
I think she is enjoying this far too much, I wonder what her part is in all of this, often times, it is more than what appears on the surface. Talking about a cunning female, she is without a doubt one of the best instigators around. I walked back to the office, but my thoughts were anywhere except the farm. Last night was incredible, I was made to be a female, lying there to be ravaged all night long. That thought kept re-appearing most of the afternoon, finally I gave in and headed back to Patricia’s.
I presume that is now my home, I love her and Jill, happy to be a part of their family now. When I arrived there was nobody home, so I made my way to the kitchen and started fixing something for dinner. I found some bacon, peppers, and onions. Since she had plenty of eggs, I decided on omelets. I got all the ingredients cut up, waiting for Patricia to arrive before I started combining them in the skillet. Patricia and Jill came in about twenty minutes later, peeked into the kitchen both of them shouting ‘she can also cook!’ Then busting into a giggling fit.
In my best June Cleaver accent, I told them to get the table set, wash up and sit down to eat. They had huge smiles on their faces as I brought the omelet to the table. I had made it with six eggs, so there was enough there for all of us, I hope. No sound from anyone other than forks clanking, the last of the omelet taken by Jill. I pouted like I was being denied something, but both of them just told me that I needed to watch my figure. They did help clear the table, and Jill washed as I dried the dishes.
I was dragged to the front room, both of then wanting to talk to me. Pushed down in the center of the sofa, one of them on each side of me. All of a sudden I had a bad feeling on where this was going. I could maybe handle Patricia by myself, but two against one, with Jill the little trouble maker at the helm, things weren’t looking good.
Jill started off the conversation. “Mom and I have been discussing you and we have come to a decision. You are a terrific cook, your skill at being a mother to me and the other girls is first rate. You make Mommy happy, something that has been lacking for quite some time. I am asking you to be my new Mom, marry Patricia and let us live together as a family; maybe even furnish me with a little sister at a later date. Now before you say anything, Mom wants to ask you something.”
“Will you marry me Carlie, be my wife, and help me straighten out this daughter of mine? Neither one of us is interested in your masculine self, your heart is female and that is who we want as Mom and wife. I plan to never let you out of dresses, and lingerie, and makeup, and nighties, and earrings, and stockings, and heels. I want you as my girly wife to love, hold and cuddle for the rest of my life.”
It didn’t take me long to say ’yes’, the thoughts of Patricia and me in a relationship made the answer easy. Then add in Jill as a daughter, it couldn’t get much better. It did bother me that I was asked instead of me asking her, but a sensuous kiss on the lips, and that thought was soon forgotten. Patricia decided a quick trip to Vegas for the wedding, and to liquidate my home there could be handled this weekend, I opened my mouth, but another kiss and that thought also was shelved.
Jill did take care of the farm. I was consulted some, but she was very smart and had things under control. The first crops hit and they were very busy; the success of the organic vegetables made the renewal of the contract a sure thing, plus two additional crops were added to the list that she is currently growing.
The three of us bought some additional land, our Mexican friends spent five weeks building more boxes, Jill making sure that they were in production before the wood dried out. The girls rounded up more of their friends, both cis and otherwise, their work ethic and caring, making such a big difference. I made a trip there every day. A Mom has to see to the feeding and care of her daughters. I made light lunches, fruit snacks and fruit and vegetable smoothies. I always got lots of hugs and kisses, quickly getting accustomed to the affection my daughters showed me.
At home, I was the wife, taking care of Patricia all the time and Jill when she would let me. Patricia became even more successful, now owning small businesses from Phoenix to Vegas. I was happy to be the wife and Mother, something that had been left out of my life earlier. I did all the girly things, shopping at least twice a week, joined all the ladies groups, even taught a class in organic agriculture at the local junior college every semester.
My once a week appointment with Cynthia was changed to twice a week, Moms need extra beauty treatments to prevent looking older than their years. I did the in between maintenance, but quickly Cynthia and I became more than friends. My hair style changes every few weeks, can’t have my lover getting used to me. New and different became the watch word in our home. I got extensions for my nails, since I didn’t work in the fields anymore, I could indulge myself with ten long elegant highly polished nails. My hair never looked unkempt, always perfect, not a curl or strand out of place.
Who would have thought that when I first drove up to that farm, that my life would turn out this way. I am very happy, a part of my life that had been denied me through the years was now in place; a wonderful daughter, a beautiful lover, a nice home and lots of money to spoil the loves of my life with. What more could a female want out of life. There was one thing, but maybe that should be in another story.
Story Complete For Now
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker