RANSVESTIA

her almost lack of makeup. "Cathy told him we were lesbians and he probably thinks you confirmed it."

"/

"So this is your husband, Angie, Sam Aaronson's tone contained the sneer he couldn't quite hold back.

Cort glanced at Angie. "How much does he know about you?" He demanded, understanding even before Jean the strained relation- ship between the feminine figure and 'her' doctor.

"Everything," Angie said softly, returning her husband look for look. "Dr.. Aaronson is the surgeon who gave me the breasts I have today.."

Aaronson grunted. "Not entirely," he said. "Not entirely."

Angie's blonde mane swirled as she turned to him. "Wh-what do you mean?" she asked.

Aaronson settled back in his armchair. "How are you, Jean?" he asked. Jean looked at him, flushed, and then looked away. "Yes, I remember how you said it was all in fun with Angie. Have you had all the fun you wanted? Has he?" he nodded at the blonde 'woman' who sat back in an armchair, her hands with such long, feminine finger- nails, clasped in front of her.

"I don't understand," Jean appeared confused. "What do you want with him again, Angie? Are you having trouble with your implants? Why didn't you tell me?"

Aaronson answered for Angie. "He wants to get rid of them," he said. The shock on Jean's face was followed by an angry snort from Robert Cort, who turned away to lean on a bookcase, his back to them. "But I can't do that, of course."

It was Angie's turned to be shocked. "You can't," she seemed about to cry.

"Someone, I presume it isn't you, has been feeding you female hormones," said Aaronson as bluntly as he could. "They have feminized you everywhere, from your hair and lack of beard to the rounding out of your figure. I could tell that from the moment I saw you, even from your arms and legs. You have a female musculature

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