"We need not get into the prurient details," Eve grinned to the handful of her classmates in the back of the Brass Lantern, "Other than to comment that I found it to be a much more satisfying way to dilate than using plastic."

"That made it all worth it, then, I take it?" Vicky asked.

"That’s not a fair statement," Eve told her. "Vicky, I never had an intense sex drive as a male, and for that matter, I don’t think I have a particularly intense one now. Not that John has ever had any reason to complain, but I’m certainly not in Jennlynn’s category, either." There was a laugh at that; Jennlynn had told some people flat out earlier that she was a nymphomaniac and used working as a legal prostitute part time to keep it under control.

"The truth of the matter," she continued as the laughter died down. "Is that if I’d gone into the surgery knowing I’d be coming out of it totally celibate, I would not have hesitated. It was very much more important for me to be a woman than it was for me to be able to make love as a woman. The fact that I found it perfectly satisfying merely made it icing on the cake."

"I don’t want to pry, or step out of line," Vicky said. "But you have orgasms and everything?"

"Yes," Eve grinned. "And you’re not stepping out of line, it’s a fair question. That was another, well, I can’t say concern, but a question lying in the wake of the surgery, whether I could be orgasmic or not. Some transsexuals aren’t and don’t consider it much of a loss. From messing around with the dilators I’d had indications I would be, and so it proved, to my satisfaction. I have heard people comment that it must not be the same as if I were a natural woman. I don’t know, and I don’t care. What I have works for me, and that’s really all I care about. It is a little different from what I remember as Denis, somehow smoother and more intense, probably because of no ejaculation being involved."

She let out a sigh and continued. "Orgasms are a tricky subject, since there are several things involved, and realistically they are different for different people. I’ve learned a fair amount more about sexual response since then from a colleague who has a professional interest in the subject. To digress for a moment, but on what I think is an interesting sidelight, some years ago he spent some time working with a woman who was badly injured in an accident and left a quadriplegic. With patience, therapy, and admittedly some hypnosis, she was eventually able to learn to come to orgasm by the feeling of her husband massaging the back of her neck. Now, that’s not what we think of as a major erogenous zone, but it serves for her – and for them. I’ve been told that she considers the outcome not terribly different than what she experienced before the accident. So, the question of whether it’s different or better between me and another woman is moot. As I said, I’m satisfied with what I have."

"Did you ever see this Jack again?" Emily asked.

"Jack and I had considerable fun for the next couple days, and intermittently for the rest of the summer, but that was the end of it," Eve smiled. "I have seen him off and on again over the years, since for the next several years through college he was still living next door to my parents, although I was rarely there after that summer. I know from my mother that he’s happily married now, although I have never met his wife." She let out another sigh. "It’s probably just as well. In the long run, it would have gone nowhere, and I realized even before we had our little adventure that he would have been extremely upset to discover that I’m transsexual. It would have been a serious affront to his manhood, for, despite the evidence, he would probably have considered me still a man had I told him. But he was convenient, and really rather fun up to a point."

"He never knew?" Scott asked, obviously considering the question himself.

"He never knew," Eve smiled. "In fact, I have to say that underlines just how well my transition had gone, and the quality of the surgery. I take a certain perverse pride in saying that with the exception of John, who knew well ahead of time, none of the several men I was in bed with over the next few years has ever detected it to my knowledge."

"Several men?" Emily asked, a little surprised.

"Several men," Eve grinned. "I suppose I should be a little ashamed of it, especially to say it in front of John, but we have discussed it, and he’s told me he’s comfortable with it. As I said earlier, my transition really wasn’t totally complete at that point, although I didn’t realize it. I spent several months trying to validate myself as a woman in my own eyes, for the lack of a better term. It was something that I had to prove to myself, and looking back on the next few months, I had rather round heels. I mean, it never got as bad as our class valedictorian on a busy Saturday night, but it got rather wild at times. Shae did her part to add to the wildness, of course."

"Yeah," Shae grinned sheepishly, among the grins from the others, "Things did get a little bit out of hand there for a while in our sophomore year."

"This sounds like a good one," Andy laughed.

"It’s fun to look back on," Eve laughed. "You all remember that Shae used to be a bit of a showoff, and she still is, or she wouldn’t be almost exploding out of that cocktail dress tonight. The Dress to Desire sessions really fired up her exhibitionism and taught her a few tricks I won’t mention in mixed company. But there was a period, mostly in our sophomore year, when she got a little wild, and I’m of two minds about whether I should embarrass her about it. Shae, can I mention the laundry room?"

"Oh, good grief," Shae shook her head. "I only did it once."

"You only did it nude once that I know of, but got quite close several other times," Eve laughed. "We’re talking about deciding to wash the underwear she was wearing, in a busy laundry room in a coed dorm," she laughed, and a lot of people laughed along with her. Once it died down, she added, "While a student with about Reverend Swift’s religious principles was also doing his laundry." Laughter rolled again, even deeper.

"He needed something else to think about," Shae laughed. "Yeah, I guess I did get a little wild there that time, well, for a while, but so did you."

"Yes, but that was considerably different," Eve protested. "I had good reason, twisted though it was. You were just torturing him for the pure fun of it."

"You helped," Shae snickered.

"Yes, but I had reason," Eve laughed. "I looked on it as a psychology experiment."

"I think we’re going to have to hear this story," Emily grinned.

"Shae, why don’t you tell it?" Eve suggested. "After all, it’s your story to tell."

One of the nice things about the laundry room, Aaron Lukerbee thought, was that it was a good place to read the Bible. There was enough white noise from the machines to drown out people talking, so he could concentrate on God’s Word. It was hard around the dorm rooms at times; there was often music playing, especially when his roommate played that Godless, vile rap music. Not only was it a sin in the eyes of God, it was an assault on his eardrums. For about the umpteen and thirty-eighth time he wished that he’d had the sense to go to Maranatha Christian University like his folks had wanted him to. But no, he had to be headstrong; he had to have his own way, and he’d made such an issue of it that he couldn’t very well change now.

My word, this was a Godless place! Partying all the time, all the noise in the dorms, little respect for God or his word. At least in the machine noise of the laundry room, he could be alone with God a little. He let out a sigh and went back to studying God’s Word, in the book of Numbers.

His washer was on the spin cycle, and he was deep in contemplation of the generations following Adam when he saw some movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up to see that tall girl, the big blonde basketball player named Shae who lived up the hall, and he couldn’t do anything but cringe and hope what had happened before wouldn’t happen again – but at that same instant, he realized he wasn’t going to have any such luck. She was carrying a laundry bag, and had on shorts so small that they showed a shameless amount of leg. But then, she had a lot of leg to show a shameless amount of, he thought critically. He glanced again, and noticed that there was a lot more shamelessness going on. She was wearing a T-shirt, and the way her breasts moved underneath it showed that she couldn’t have bothered to put on a brassiere. Such a slut! And, if that weren’t bad enough, her hair was wet and hanging down and had wet the T-shirt enough that you could see her nipples like she’d been wearing clear plastic!

Get thee behind me, Satan, he thought, turning his eyes away. Merciful heavens, how could a woman be that brazen, to show herself off like that and not show any signs of shame?

And she didn’t seem to care that he was watching, or at least trying not to watch, helplessly drawn to the sight in front of him. She bent over, legs apart, and dug around in the laundry bag on the floor, her hind end to him. Those long, bare legs seemed longer than ever, especially with those tall, tall high heels she had on, making her look like the absolute spawn of Satan begat specifically to lure a man from the righteous path. Get thee behind me . . .

With a little bit of digging in the laundry bag she came up with an armload of clothes, stood up, and threw them in the washer. She bent over again – merciful heavens! – grabbed a plastic jug of laundry soap, and dumped some in the washer. She stopped for a second, frowned, and then seeming to show no care that others could be watching, she bent over and pulled off her shorts, tossing them in the washer along with her other clothes. That left her with only a tiny bit of nylon fabric covering her nether regions.

Still without a care – or any sign that she knew he was watching – she took another look in the washer, stepped back, and peeled off her T-shirt and tossed it in the washer too, leaving her br . . . br . . . breasts as bare as the day she was born. He felt shame at the incredible hardness rising involuntarily in his pants. My Lord, please, taketh this cup from me, he prayed in his mind . . .

Only then did she take notice of the fact that he was staring at this incredibly Godless sight unfolding in front of him, no matter how hard he tried not to – but she seemed not to mind. "Oh, hi, Aaron," she said sweetly. "How they hanging?"

"Th . . . bu . . . do . . . " he stammered, wide-eyed at the sight, unable to make sensible words come out of his mouth. Didn’t this brazen woman realize just how Godless her appearance was! She needed to learn the ways of the Lord, to be Holy in His sight. He knew he should tell her that, but the sight of her standing there, a smile on her face and wearing nothing but a tiny pair of nearly transparent lace panties just defeated any possibility of words.

"Hey, catch you around!" she said sweetly, turning on her heel and heading for the door, her nearly bare behind bouncing saucily behind her as she ducked under the door frame and headed out into the hall.

Oh, merciful heavens he thought again as he felt his heart pounding as she walked out of his view. Get thee behind me Satan! And the tightness in his pants! Satan, evil tormenter of the weaknesses of the flesh – and right at the moment, his flesh seemed both weaker and harder than it ever had before.

This was too much, he thought, feeling himself rolling with sweat at the shame he felt at even taking interest in the incredible sight. Brazen, shameless . . . and so much of it, too! Shae was one big girl, at least a foot taller than he was, and it was hard not to look at her. And this wasn’t the first time – she seemed to have no idea of how her body affected others, of how unseemliness like that was a sore in the eye of the Lord. In shame, he fell to his knees, right there in the laundry room, and asked the Lord’s forgiveness for his vile thoughts at the sight, and asked for His enlightenment in what he should do to guide her onto the path of righteousness. And it would take a lot of guiding, he was sure of that, being as far from the ways of the Lord as her behavior had just exhibited.

As he knelt there, calling upon the Lord, the answer seemed to come to him – he needed to talk to her. Someone so far from the true path needed to be shown the error of her ways. Oh, Lord, give me strength! Give me the courage to confront Satan in his den! There seemed to be no question – he’d have to do the Lord’s will, as soon as the chance arose.

The first opportunity came an hour or so later, down in the cafeteria, where the big blonde spawn of Satan sat with her roommate, that pretty little blonde, the one who seemed so conservative and demure by comparison. He didn’t know her well, but from what he knew she had to be much closer to a good Christian woman.

Giving a little prayer, he carried his tray over to where the two sat talking at a table for four. "Hi there," he said as warmly as possible, trying to not sound unctuous. "Do you mind if I sit down and join you?"

"Plenty of room," Shae smiled a warm smile. "You know Eve, my roomie, don’t you?"

"Of course," he smiled his warmest as he set down his tray and pulled out a chair. "How are you today, Eve?"

"Fine, thanks," the little blonde replied. When you got down to it she was even prettier than Shae, long blonde hair streaming down her back, nicely and conservatively dressed compared to her roommate in jeans and a shapeless T-shirt – but with that remarkable . . . no, taunting body that he’d seen so much of under those clothes. "How are you?"

"Just a little upset," he said. "Shae, may I talk with you frankly?"

"Sure," Shae smiled. "I’ve got nothing to hide."

"Shae, that little exhibition of yours today up in the laundry room, well, that was pushing things much too far. I find it absolutely amazing that a woman could be so shameless with the eyes of God on her."

"What are you talking about?" she frowned, the confusion evident on her face.

"I mean your strip-tease act, down to all your bare skin," he said. "That was reprehensible. That was an act of Satan!"

"It’s also your problem," she shook her head. "In my religion, we look at it entirely differently."

"Your religion?"

"Yes, I’m fairly religious," she replied. "We just have different views, that’s all. I suppose you’re one of those types who think that a woman is the one responsible for a man’s having desires, and that all women should be in burqas so men won’t be tempted in the eyes of Allah. That’s a man for you, blaming women for the weakness of being a man, making it the woman’s problem."

"Well . . . no . . . but . . . " he temporized in the face of her Satanic counter-assault. "In the Disciples of the Savior," he finally managed to get under control, "We believe that . . . "

"Disciples of the Savior?" she cut him off. "Oh yeah, I’ve had dealings with you guys before. Boy, you have some weird ones running around, don’t you?"

"I hardly think that a respected conservative Christian denomination like the Disciples of the Savior could be characterized as ‘weird,’" he protested huffily.

"Maybe not," Shae shrugged. "But you’ve got some weird members, that’s for sure. Eve, remember Louis and Brian?"

"Oh, my yes," Eve nodded. "You’re right, they are a little on the sick side."

"More than a little, and he’s a minister," Shae said. "At least you have to say Brian’s a minister in the Disciples, I don’t know what the hell to call Louis."

"The term ‘he’ is reaching for it a little," Eve nodded.

"What do you mean?" Aaron frowned.

"They’re gay. Queer. You know what that means? Like they like to go down on each other, cornhole each other, OK?"

"A minister?" Aaron said in surprise and disgust at the thought. "In the Disciples of the Savior?"

"Oh yes, everyone in town knows it," Eve grinned. "But Shae, I don’t think they characterize themselves as ‘gay’ or ‘queer’ anymore. I mean, others may, but they don’t think of themselves as homosexuals anymore, not after what Louis did."

"They may not," Shae snorted. "That’s not necessarily what I think. I mean, fun’s fun, but I think Louis carried it a little far, just so Brian could get ordained. I mean, queer is one thing, but for Louis to get a sex-change operation so his, her, its – whatever – lover could get ordained in the Disciples is carrying it a bit far."

"A sex-change operation!" Aaron exclaimed, shocked at the thought. "Disciples of the Savior? Are you sure?"

"Oh yes," Eve nodded. "Like I said, everybody in town knows it. Louis is Louise now, at least that’s what she calls herself, or he calls himself or whatever. It was a big wedding, a lot of people thought it was a pretty cute way around the problem. Brian’s got a church somewhere now."

"Makes you wonder if the congregation knows about it," Shae sighed.

Merciful heavens, Aaron thought. That’s unbelievable! Satan run rampant! He took several deep breaths, trying to swallow the implications, and he didn’t like any of the answers he was getting in the thoughts running through his mind. Finally, he managed to pull himself together and get back to the business at hand. "Shae, I realize that you may have your own beliefs," he started. "But I have to tell you that some things are offensive in the eyes of God, and . . . "

"I get it," she said. "You came over here to proselytize me, right?"

"Well, not exactly, Shae, but . . . "

"Look, you’re not the first one," she said. "I’ll tell you what I’ve told everyone else that asks. You come to one of my services, and I’ll come to one of yours. I mean, fair’s fair, right? We’re not big on proselytizing, we just think seeing is believing."

"I find it difficult to believe that you’re a religious person."

"Oh, she’s intensely religious," Eve said. "She can be a little overbearing about it from time to time, but she doesn’t press me about it, and I’ll grant her the right to her viewpoints."

"Well, I, uh . . . "

"Can dish it out but can’t take it," she grinned. "Typical. Just how faithful are you? Afraid you can’t examine the religious beliefs of others without fear that yours will be eroded, right? If you want me to listen to you, that’s the risk you’re going to have to take."

"I’m very strong in my faith," he protested. "Jesus is the Rock upon Whom I stand."

"All right," she said. "Tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up at eight. You’ll have to be skyclad, but it shouldn’t be a big deal."

"Skyclad?"

"Oh, yes," she smiled. "We have services outdoors at night, clothed only by the sky, so Goddess can see the glory that She made. It gets a little cold outside this time of year, but if you have faith, Goddess will keep you warm."

"Goddess?"

"Of course, Goddess is female, didn’t you know that? I mean, we couldn’t call Her Goddess otherwise, could we? But we’ll have fun, Aaron. The services are inspiring, and the fellowship afterwards, well, all I can say is don’t worry; you won’t be the first Disciple of the Savior to join us."

"You’re . . . you’re . . . " he said, eyes wide, unable to believe the words that were falling on his ears. "You’re . . . " he said again, pushing his chair back. "Oh, dear Lord, save me!" he cried, rushing toward the door. He had to go someplace and pray. Now! And lots!

Maybe his folks were right, he thought as he ran. Maranatha Christian might not be all that bad after all.

"I only gave him the full flash once," Shae grinned. "That was about a month later. He was about ready to run when I said, ‘Hey, Aaron, tomorrow’s the thirteenth, you coming with me?’" He absolutely could not get a word out, so I said, ‘Aw, too bad.’ He didn’t come back the next semester, for some reason."

"That was cruel and unusual punishment," Hannah grinned. "And probably necessary. I’m a lay leader in our church, and I take my religion pretty seriously, but every now and then you run across someone who can be such a jerk about it."

"Yeah, that’s what irritated me in the first place," Shae said. "Willing to cram his viewpoint down your throat at any opportunity but so sure he was right that he’s not going to be tolerant of other views."

"That was not the only such stunt that Shae pulled in those days," Eve smirked. "But that was by far the most brazen. She used to get a thrill out of driving down the highway with no bra and her blouse unbuttoned to the waist. Like I said, an exhibitionist, pure and simple."

"I toned it down after we left college," Shae protested. "And since I’ve been ‘Shaella Sunrise’ I can’t do anything like that anymore."

"Shaella Sunrise?" Emily asked. "What’s that?"

"Your kids must be too old. WSN has a sister network, CTN, all kids shows. Most of it’s reruns and cartoons, but they do this show, Charley’s House, that’s sort of a cheesy takeoff of Sesame Street."

"Our kids watch it some," Sonja admitted, "But I don’t pay much attention to it."

"If you’re an adult you can’t pay much attention to it," Shae laughed. "I can’t even sit through it myself. But to tell the story, right after I went to work for WSN I got to talking in the elevator one day with this guy who writes for Charley’s House. The next thing I know I was asked to do a bit part in some episodes. I said sure, a buck’s a buck, and I’d had all those drama classes. So I go down to the studio, and discover that the writers were so quick and lazy they didn’t even bother to give me a stage name at first. It turned out that somehow when they were dreaming up the show, they decided that all the adults would be small so there’d be less contrast with the kids. I think the tallest person acting regularly has to be about five-one or five-two, and there’s several even shorter, so I come across huge. The way I fit into the episodes is that the little kids have to call in Shaella once in a while to straighten things out with the bigger kids. The shows are real chopped up, and I only appear now and then, so I’m only in the studio a few times a year, usually for just two or three days. But I get recognized on the street more for being Shaella Sunrise than I do for being Shae Kirkendahl, the WNBA reporter for WSN. And the kids, God bless ’em, are more fun."

"I can tell you that two kids are going to be thrilled to death to hear Mommy and Daddy met Shaella Sunrise," Sonja laughed. "But I don’t think we’re going to tell them some of the stories we’ve heard tonight."

"Oh, it can be fun and the kids are cute," Shae grinned. "And I’d rather be Shaella Sunrise than Brunehilde."

"Brunehilde?" Emily said. "You mean like the opera?"

"Yes and no," Shae laughed. "Like I said, I minored in drama, and I think it helped with my on-camera delivery a lot. Doing plays is a pain in the butt if you’re also doing sports, but I figured that at my height, I’m not going to get cast a lot, so I was safe."

"Wrong!" Eve laughed.

"Yeah," Shae grinned. "I never figured on some kid doing a non-operatic adaptation of the Ring Cycle for his student production, and the next thing you know, I’m getting my arms twisted to appear on stage carrying a spear and shield, wearing a brass brassiere."

"She makes a magnificent valkyrie," Eve laughed. "But then, I always knew that."

"I don’t know," Emily said. "You people must have had some real experiences in college. There have been times when I’ve wished I hadn’t gotten married right out of high school, so I could have had some adventures like that."

"Well, stories like that are more the exception than they are the rule," Shae told her. "Most of the time, it was pretty placid, except for the basketball, of course. My sophomore year we went to the final four, and that was pretty exciting. We didn’t do much as juniors and seniors, though."

"I wasn’t paying much attention, I’ll admit," Scott nodded. "I remember wondering what happened to Ball State after your first two years, but I was never curious enough to check."

"It was a real tragedy," Shae said sadly. "It just cut the heart out of the program; we never recovered. I was never friends with Tawana, but she was a teammate, and we at least respected each other. Not long after our sophomore year ended, Tawana was sitting on the porch of her home in Detroit when there was a drive-by shooting a block away. A stray bullet severed her spine." Shae stopped for a moment, to try to pull herself together. This still hurt, and it was evident. "She’ll spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair, and she’ll never be able to create magic on the hardwood again," she continued, taking another breath. "I’ve watched an awful lot of WNBA, even played with those girls a little, but I’ve never ever seen anyone as good as she was. I visited her a couple times, tried to say what I could say, but she finally had to ask the team members to quit visiting her because thinking about basketball hurt her too much." The tall woman looked down, and there was an obvious tear in her eye. She gave a little sniff, and continued. "Eve had a hard time becoming a woman, but that was nothing like how hard it was for Tawana to accept becoming a paraplegic."

"I did not know Tawana well, of course," Eve said. "But her plight renewed my inspiration to work toward my goals so that I might help people like her."

"I’d still like to know what happened to her," Shae said. "I hate the thought of her sitting in a wheelchair, staring at the TV, and bitter about what happened." She let out a long sigh. "And I knew there was nothing I could do to help. Anyway," she continued, forcibly pulling herself away a little from the sad thought, "With Tawana gone, we’d lost our main shooter and spark plug. I could still get the ball, but there wasn’t anyone I could get it to who could get it to the basket and put it in. I don’t even remember where we finished in the league the last two years. Not good. That was probably my last shot at getting into the WNBA on my own. If we could have gone to the NCAAs as juniors or seniors and done well, we’d have had some scouts looking pretty seriously at us, but by then, nobody remembered what we’d done as freshmen and sophomores."

"But you said you’d played in the WNBA," Scott said.

"Yeah, a little," Shae nodded. "But that was a special deal. It was toward the end of the season a couple of years ago, the Flames were going nowhere when their power center, Liz Ashbury, got laid up for the rest of the season. They had a replacement, Merjune Kathoey, who could fill in, but someone upstairs got the bright idea of getting me signed for a few games so that the floor reporter could report as a team member. It didn’t work too well. I did get a few minutes game time in when our butts were already blown so far away there wasn’t a chance of doing anything, but by then I was years out of practice, and I didn’t do anything much." She sighed. "But at least I can say I made it to the WNBA, which was my goal for years. Big deal."

Eve glanced at her friend. Shae was getting morose, and that was all too frequent these days. There’d been no indication of it publicly tonight, but she knew from talking with her over the last year or more that she was starting to get frustrated with what she considered a dead-end job. Because of her extreme height, Shae could see only limited job opportunities in most of the fields she had interest in. It wasn’t all that bad, but she could talk herself into a downer if she wasn’t careful. Though Eve had never been an athlete in any way, and had only gone to a few of her friend’s basketball games, she recognized the need to steal the ball.

"Realistically," she said, grasping for a way to change directions, "Shae was right, in that our last two years of undergrad school were fairly placid. Oh, we had our adventures, and there are some stories to tell, but nothing earth shattering. As for me, as I indicated earlier, I ran a little wild in the sleeping-around department for a few months, and then sated my desire to display my new womanhood by doing some nude posing for art classes. I soon realized that I’d proved what I’d needed to prove, and let it tail off after that. Not that I might not indulge myself from time to time, but I had no need to be obsessive about it. As I reached that point, my transition was essentially complete, although I still have a few insights from Denis that I have to consider once in a while. It took three years, and they were an interesting and memorable three years."

"I still think it’s incredible that you got through the whole thing without anyone finding out," Emily said, shaking her head.

"As I said, it was such an unbelievable thing that it was hard to jump to the conclusion, even when presented with the evidence." A big grin came across her face, and she said. "One of the better examples of that was a couple weeks before my little adventure with Jack, back when I was still being a showoff."

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