Easy Money

ALMOST MERCEDES

"Kyle? You're radiant."

Kyle felt anything but radiant. He was no rocket scientist, but he could add. It had been four months with Donald and three without him, that was seven fucking months. And that was way too close to one year.

"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice Dr. Gold."

"Please sit. Now then young lady what seems to be the problem?" Dr. Gold folded his arms on his chest and leaned back against the examination table.

"Things are out of control. I'm at my wit's end. I ran out of hormones weeks ago. Only not only haven't my changes reversed – they seem to be roaring forward at the same pace."

"Gone you say? Well obviously, you've been a bad girl, a trifle generous with your dosage. Let me guess, low sex drive?"

"No!" Kyle squeaked. "I mean, no. I haven't been so horny since I was a high school freshmen."

"Really? That's rare, very rare. So, what's the problem?"

"Haven't you ever had an itch you can't scratch? No matter what I do there's no satisfaction. The pressure just keeps building and building. I swear I'm going to bust."

"What exactly have you tried?"

"Well, I... I..."

"Yes?"

"You know I try to jerk off, hours at a time."

"Have you tried toying with your nipples?"

"Yes. But all that does is bring me to edge and leave me there."

"Okay. Drop your drawers." Dr. Gold tapped his testicles and poked his penis. "I could see from the moment you walked in that you haven't had any problem living as a women. No one's ever read you, right?"

"No."

"And how are you feeling, are you happy?"

"Happier than I've ever been," Kyle lied through his teeth. What he was, was scared shit.

"Good. I warned you. You're sterile."

"What?"

"You're genitals have totally atrophied. Other than their meager appearance they no longer serve any function. You're functionally castrated."

"But you promised it would take a year."

"A year at the prescribed dosage, not at the level you've administered to yourself. You were lucky."

"But I stopped."

"Look at your breasts. Did you know that breast tissue produces estrogen? Other organs as well? You're far enough along that your body can keep a normal dosage and then some."

"I'm stuck? I'm a girl?" Kyle moaned, dopey tears smearing his mascara. Dr. Gold lunged forward, giving him a bear hug.

"Congratulation! I'm so happy for you."

Kyle just sobbed softly not knowing what else to do. "But what'll I do?"

"Until you have your bottom done, you'll have to rely on anal intercourse."

"But– "

"You're a woman now. You'll find your own hot buttons, chart the sensual interior of your own sexual Dark Continent. I envy you."

"I don't even know where to begin?"

"Here let me show you." Dr. Gold slipped on a latex glove. "Now bend over."

"But– "

"Trust me." When Kyle did the good doctor slathers his anus with a cold lubricant. "Now breath in deeply. Now exhale. Again. Good. Now relax."

Dr. Gold slid his index finger through Kyle's anus, up his rectum and started prodding about. "My, your prostate is rather engorged."

"Oh doctor," Kyle cooed in a register that he didn't know he had.

"I thought so. Does this hurt? Should I stop?"

"You stop and I'll break you're fucking arm."

"Right."

"Yes. That's it." Kyle began to buck his ass softly into the doctor hand.

"I don't think– "

"I'll kill you."

"Right."

Kyle began to rock in earnest, trying to put the man's short finger where he needed it to be. "Deeper. Harder."

"Better?" Dr. Gold asked, kindly forcing his digit in as far as it would go.

"I'm so stupid. I such a shit head. Yes. Yes." Kyle came, tiny spurts of clear goo dripping from his slack penis, dangling in a long string. He trembled, finally free of the pressure he endured for the past months.

"Are we done?"

"Thanks," Kyle whispered.

Dr. Gold removed his glove and dropped it in the trashcan. The he closed his lap coat so his erection wouldn't be so obvious. "You're well on your way to understanding your sexual needs. You need a little dirty talk to set the mood and an erection– "

"But you said– "

"Someone else's rather endowed one – and you're on your way to bliss."

"But I'm not dating anyone."

"What a shame. Well, might I suggest you start with a training dildo. Girth isn't important here. It's the length. I'd say, at least nine inches."

"Nine inches! Where am I going to find nine inches!"

"Afro-Americans?"

"Thank you, Dr. Gold." Kyle pulled his slacks up, embarrassed as all get out but grateful at the same time.

"When you're ready to have your bottom done – call – we'll schedule. For now, good luck. With your good looks and sweet nature, you're bound to make a lot of men very happy. And somewhere out there I'm sure there's a Mr. Right just waiting to make you happy as well."

"I hope so Dr. Gold," Kyle said, still drowning in the endorphins and his post-coital high.

It wasn't till Kyle got back to the room that it hit home.

"Shit!" He shrieked, kicking the floorboard. Even in open toed sandals that didn't satisfy him, he kicked the wall as well. "Fucking shit!"

For good measure he shoved his vanity chair over, making a thunk. That was better. Lastly, he grabbed the nightstand lamp, jerking the cord out the wall and hurled it against the wall.

"I am such a Goddamn asshole. Easy money, my ass. I am so stupid!" He screeched the last, coming out in a wonderful soprano that terrified every dog and cat within ten blocks.

"Fuck me," he cried falling to his knees. "Fuck me, goddamn it." He shoved his fists into his eye, grinding them there, trying to force the tears back into them.

Then he hugged himself, biting his lip till the blood came.

"You want to play it that way God? Is that what you want? You're testing me, aren't you? Well, fuck you. No way am I quitting. Not now. Now ever. Not after I've come this far. You watch. You just watch."

When Kyle felt he could talk he made an important telephone call.

"Hello. Yeah, it's me Kyle. I thought about it. I want – want it as soon as possible Dr. Gold. Sure, I'll hold."