The hall was empty. I was alone, and I would now have to face a life alone without her. Tears burned at my eyes, and I blinked hard to hold them back. Not now, I thought, and not here. I could hold out until I was in my rooms, couldn't I? Maybe. Slowly, I turned toward the stairs and began to move stiffly in the strange high heels. "Oh Henry?" Her voice echoed softy, teasingly from behind me. I spun about quickly, almost falling, and saw her standing there, partially hidden by the still opened door. She was *smiling*. I did not dare ask, but she spoke first. "Well done, darling." She walked up and stood on tip toe to kiss my lips. It felt so . . . different when the lipstick was on my side of the kiss. She saw me licking at my lips after the kiss, tasting for the first time the creamy color. Her smile broadened. "It feels different, doesn't it, darling, almost like a woman kissing a woman, doesn't it?" "Yes Mistress". I felt so relieved my eyes began to tear up again. She noticed and handed me a tissue. "Careful of your mascara," she said. "We want to keep it looking nice, don't we? You worked very hard to give that to me and I don't want you to damage your gift to me." "Yes, Mistress," I sniffled as I blotted gently at my eyes. "I see that you've given me all your body and facial hair, even your moustache, so that you've now dedicated the way you look to pleasing me. Never mind what others may think about how you look. Isn't that so?" Slowly I nodded and she grinned, teasingly. "You'll have a lot to explain in the office on Monday, but you have nothing further to explain to me, do you?" With the terror-driven adrenalin rush waning, the import of what I had just done to my appearance hit me full in the face. I had made major changes to my appearance, and many of those changes would not wash away like the cosmetics currently highlighting my features. A devilish smile answered my look of confused horror, but then, her hand touched mine in an almost surreptitious show of support. And it was, suddenly, all right. That one moment, those two seemingly discordant gestures, were like an epiphany for me, a revelation. It was all there for me, at last. On one hand, she was testing me, pushing me and the limits I thought I still had, and yet, with her other hand, she supported me and assured me that she was there for me. Up until that very instant, I had only *thought* that I had given myself to her. I had been wrong in that, because I had not fully understood before that the giving went both ways. Yes, she would test me in the future, and she would still be able to find those little dark places in my soul that frightened me. And she would take me to those places because it gave her pleasure to see me accept those torments, to see me fight those dragons, but that was all right. She was my Mistress - I would do those things for her and she would protect me even as she pressed me to give more than I thought I had to give. In that moment, the gift was truly given. "No, Mistress." I said quietly. "I am so very happy that you have accepted my gift." "No, Henry, what you gave me was really already mine. What I have accepted is what your gift represents to you, and the fact that you *chose* to give it. Remember, your body and facial hair were always mine to dispense with as I chose. But this time, *you* chose to live without those outward symbols of your masculinity in order to make yourself a more credible woman, *for* me, but not because I had ordered it of you." "Yes Mistress." I wasn't sure where she was going, but she wasn't angry with me, so I was content. Content to listen, content to see where she wanted to take us, and content to follow where she led. "You did it because you *knew* that is what I wanted for you and from you, dear. Because your soul *is* mine. But tonight, you gave me a part of your soul I had never asked for, and more importantly, you gave it without my asking." She grinned gently at the confusion I was feeling at her words, and then took my hand in hers. "Come, let's go back into my bedroom." Once inside those walls again, she led me to the front of her full length mirror and stood just behind me, caressing my blouse, adjusting my skirt, massaging the still tense muscles in my shoulders, neck and back. "What do you see, Henry.?" "A woman." Then I realized that was wrong. Surprised by what I saw, my voice dropped to an awed whisper. "Two women, Mistress." "Yes, dear. That is what I see, too. Do you see Henry there?" "No." my voice broke as I began to see what she was getting at. "No, and neither do I. If I had seen anything of Henry when you walked out into the hallway just now, you would have walked down the hall and out the front door, to make your way home looking like Henry in women's clothing. The inside door to your apartment above the garage is locked. No matter the embarrassment to you if anyone had seen you creeping up the stairs to the apartment. I wouldn't have cared because you would not have been able to care enough for me to give me this part of you. You would have been of no further interest to me. But to become this woman you see, you had to sacrifice all of Henry's appearance, didn't you?" "Yes." The word barely got out as I realized how close I had come this day to losing her. Her hand came up to stroke my hair. "I had no doubts when I set this test for you, darling. You love me too much not to have done your very best, and so you did. No one can see Henry in this woman." Again, she soothed me, brought me back just a step from the edge of my terror. "Her hair needs work," she commented in an objective tone. "And it needs to be longer and maybe just a touch lighter, but it isn't too bad, It's a woman's hair. You'd want it to look even more like a woman's hair if you knew how to style it, wouldn't you? For me?" I could not speak, I could only nod my agreement to anything that would make her happy. Pleasure at my nonverbal agreement shown in the eyes of the other woman in the mirror. "And for anyone who might see you, in the street, as well. In the mall, for example. A woman dresses to be seen. She makes herself beautiful to be seen and valued by many, knowing she belongs to just one person and is all the more valuable for that. Isn't that so?" "Yes Mistress." I put my hands together in front of me, hoping to stop the sudden shaking of my fingers. "Well, now that you are quite presentable, I want you to be seen. I want your soul's new look appraised and found fully feminine. My soul's new appearance. Do you understand?" "Yes Mistress." A pang shot up in me, but it wasn't terrifying, not at all. I stared mournfully at the woman I had made myself in the mirror. She was standing legs apart and hands at her sides a little awkwardly,. I raised one hand to the front of my waist and held it there, as if a purse were clutched under my elbow, and I pushed an unruly lock of hair back into alignment with the other hand. I wished I could look prettier for her. That thought became words before I realized I was speaking. "I wish I could be prettier for you, Mistress." "You will be, sweetheart," she assured me. From nowhere she suddenly produced a purse. "Let's go!" "Where?!" Suddenly I panicked. "Into the street? Dressed like this?" My voice cracked into a two octave squeak. She kissed me again, lipstick on lipstick. "That's right, dear. We'll leave my slave Henry behind - that silly, hairy man who was so afraid to become what I wished him to become, that he used his safe word. But I don't see anything of him here, do you?" she said, waving her hand negligently toward the reflections in the mirror. "No," I had to admit, staring into the mirror. "I want now to be served by a beautiful woman. Do you wish to become that woman?" "Oh, god! Yes, Mistress, please!" "Then let's go. Just a moment while I pick up that videotape I made of you dressing yourself, through the one-way mirror. It will help Mistress Vera set up a schedule for you. That way, she can teach you what you need to learn all the more efficiently, and return to me looking not merely acceptable, as you are now, but as I said a short while ago, looking *superb*. I *want* nothing less and I will *accept* nothing less." Her face had become momentarily stern but then broke into an enthusiastic and excited smile. "There are *so* many wonderful new things we can do together when you and I are just two women out and about together." she almost gushed, shocking me at this glimpse of another facet of the woman I loved. "And I have no reason to be ashamed to be seen with you, because you have no reason to feel ashamed of what you are." Her hand took my free arm and pulled me toward the door with surprising strength. "Now, come on. I phoned Mistress Vera and told her that we'd be late, but she's waiting for us now." "Mistress!" I didn't know what I wanted to say. I felt a little proud of my reflection in the mirror, with its slim legs and coifed, neatly made-up face, but I was still frightened by the unknown. She heard what I could not say. "No fear, love. I see you. You see you. Henry has seen you. You are already a woman in other people's eyes, and that confirms what you are in your own eyes. Besides," and her eyes sparkled wickedly, "You don't really know if I was alone behind that one-way mirror, watching you, do you? I have friends I might have called in to ask for advice. Your feminine self may now already exist in other women's minds." she paused for that to sink in completely before continuing in a soft, sly tone, "Maybe not only women's minds. I *do* have some men friends, too, darling." Open mouthed at that thought, I could only stare at her. She relaxed the grip on my arm and stood back to give me a little space to recover from that. "Do you really mind now?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper. "Does that really matter so very much to you now, my soul's delight?" I wasn't perfectly sure. I wasn't upset, but neither was I overjoyed. She saw that, too, and nodded, and then took me gently by the elbow and led me out the door and down the hall. As I started down the steps, I looked back at that room Henry had entered just two hours earlier, frightened and desperate; a room in which this incredible transformation had just taken place. In that moment, the Henry who entered that room seemed like another person altogether. A person to whom the mere thought of being seen cross dressed by anyone other than Mistress was so frightening that he had nearly risked all, and had almost sacrificed all to his fear. That room was now empty. There was no sign of Henry, not in there, and not in the front foyer's mirror either where I rechecked my hairdo once more as my beloved Mistress opened the front door to her house and held it open for me, waiting for me to pass through. Still a little unsteady on my heels, I clutched my purse in both of my hands and stepped past her. "Darling?" her voice said from behind me as I stepped out the front door and into the light. "I promised you that I would wait until you were ready. That is a very big first step you just took. Are you *really* ready?" Only one answer came to mind. "Yes, Mistress. *Very* ready." The smile that answered my own was one I did not often earn, soft and full of love. "Then, so am I, darling, so am I. Now, move that cute butt, darling. Just wait till you see the outfits Mistress Vera has laid out for you." Her voice dropped into a credible impersonation of the singer, Cher, as she sang. "She was a . . . *V* . . *A* . . *M* . . *P*, *VAMP*!" My secret fantasy. She had done it again! The tremor that ran chills up and down my spine reminded me of the very important lesson I had learned earlier in the morning. She would always find a new way to reach me, to teach me and most importantly, to love me. And it would be grand.