John pinched out the rest of the joint and set it into a ceramic ashtray, resting with Kitten cuddled on his lap. She was so small compared to him, she did make a convincing woman. He thought she was female at first, but there were some signs maybe she wasn’t. He kissed her hair. “What do you have to do besides the obvious surgery to be a lady?” “Estrogen shots, lots of electrolysis.” John nodded. “Sounds like hell.” “It is. It sometimes makes me feel as if even after I do all I can, no one will love me.” “I love you.” Kitten didn’t even meet his eyes. “You know what I mean.” “What you have to go through makes what I have to do tomorrow seem pretty meaningless.” “I’m glad I can put it into prospective.” She petted John’s chest through his shirt. “I assume there are guys wanting to be girls and girls wanting to be guys from where I come from…but they must hide or something.” “Did you hang out in gay bars?” “No!” John shook his head at the absurdity. “You think I wanted to be hunted down by the good ole boys and strung up by my dick from the nearest tree?” Kitten shivered and hid her face into John’s shirt. He held her tighter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” “They do that some places. I’ve seen the newspaper. No one seems to care. As if the victims had it coming or something.” John couldn’t imagine what they would do to Kitten back where he was from. The thought made him clench his fists. “One day.” She sighed. “One day things will change. One day.” “Not in my lifetime.” John looked at the coke and thought about snorting a line. “Well, things have happened already. I mean, women can vote, black and white people can marry, there’s no more segregation. Not like in the 60’s. The last decade did a lot for us.” “I suppose. I just don’t get it. So? I like men. So what?” John said, “Can you hand me that mirror, Kitten?” She reached for it and John did a line while she held it. He nodded thanks, and sniffed it down, as he placed the mirror back on the table. In the background American Pie by Don McLean was playing on Eddy’s stereo. It was so soft, John could hear moans of pleasure coming from down the hall, mostly women; “Yes! Yes!” “You want a boyfriend, not a girlfriend. Right?” John asked, though he figured he knew. She nodded. “Gay boys would have found you very hot.” “I want a straight boy.” For some reason John began to laugh, then roared with hilarity, making the others who were stoned and deep in either a haze or contemplating, look at him curiously. “Who doesn’t, baby! Who doesn’t!” He kept laughing until Kitten did as if it was contagious and, well, they were both high. Once their laughter died down, John asked Kitten, “When is my five minutes tomorrow with the cock-rot-piece of shit?” “Just after twelve noon. Before he take his lunch break.” “Then I better get some sleep.” John patted her arm. Kitten climbed off the beanbag chair, and when she did, John got a peek up her short skirt at her dick and balls. “You need mother’s little helper?” Kitten asked in concern. “Yeah. After the coke. Shouldn’t have done it.” He held out his hand. Digging out a tiny bag from her bra, she placed a little yellow pill in his palm. He chewed it, and nodded in thanks. “What time should I wake you?” she asked. He snaked his arm around her waist and brought her down the hall with him. They both walked by the orgy room and the noise of orgasms were so loud, John figured more than half of them were fake. He opened the door to his cat-designed-bedroom and closed it behind him, taking off his shirt. Kitten stood timidly, then walked to the nightstand and picked up a little alarm clock. “Ten?” “Don’t know. How long does it take from here to get to wherever we’re going in LA traffic?” “Well,” she said, tapping her lip with her painted nail, “…breakfast first, a little prodding to get Eddy out of the house after he walks Pookie…” Stripped naked, John sat on the bed. “Nine.” “Nine.” She nodded and set the time, then began to leave. “Come here.” Kitten glanced over her shoulder. John craned his finger. Looking nervous, she stopped and stepped closer. “Take off the high-heels, the skirt, the hose, or whatever you call it.” Kitten removed her shoes and then wriggled out of her mini skirt. John could see her cock and balls as she undid the garter and stockings. He looked at her from the waist down. Damn why did she shave the pubes? “Closer.” John waved her to the bed where he was sitting. He held her hips and felt how soft and smooth she was, so unlike a man, but there it was, a penis and testicles. He glanced up at her face. “Do you want me to make love to you?” “It depends.” “On?” “I don’t do sympathy fucks very well.” “I don’t even know what that is.” John ran his hand over his own soft cock. “I disgust you from the waist up.” “Nope. Here to here.” He held his hands on himself at chest height, then smiled, as if it were sort of a joke. “You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen. I don’t know how much of that is the shit they are injecting in you, or how much is you.” “I’m a makeup artist too.” She batted her lashes in a silly gesture, mocking him, or…herself. John couldn’t decide which. Slowly he dragged the fake plastic jewelry off her wrists and set them on the nightstand. “If your intention is for me to sleep here, can I wash up?” “You’re free to do as you like.” He released contact with her, seeing her cock grow thick. “Give me five.” “I’ll do the same. Have to scrub my face and brush my teeth.” Kitten slipped her skirt on and left the room. John watched her go and frowned. Before the fake boobs? John could really dig someone like Kitten. He’d never met a kinder soul, even more so than Eddy, who seemed to have ulterior motives. But not Kitten. It was as if she was so innocent, yet wasn’t. Kitten was extremely savvy to everything around her, and nothing missed her intelligent scrutiny. What would Vic say if he knew he was going to sleep with a man who had tits? Vic would not like it. Not only because he’d be jealous John was sleeping with anyone, period, but because he’d be confused. As confused as I am. John left the bedroom to scrub up for bed, hearing the women in the orgy room making so many stupid sounds of a climax, he knew they were all fake. No one but a paid porn star yelled like that. But the men were most likely drunk or doped up, and needed something to make them come. Otherwise the women would wear themselves out trying. John returned to his bedroom first, seeing the neat pile of his own laundered clothing on the dresser, and his perfect interview outfit for tomorrow hanging on the door of the closet near the full length mirror. He checked on the shoes and was impressed with the job Kitten had done to polish them. He replaced them and spotted himself in the mirror. He thought about those photos. Turning front and back to see himself, not feeling anywhere near as pretty as those pictures, John noticed the door open and close, quietly behind him. Kitten shut off the overhead light with a tap to the switch on the wall. The small reading lamp on the nightstand was lit. She dropped her skirt and then John noticed she was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and…where her breasts used to be, was mostly flat. Her headband and all her jewelry were removed and her long flowing jet-black tresses were spread out on the furry pillow after she climbed into his bed. She stared at him, spreading her legs and fondling her penis. John moved closer to the bed, so easily seeing the boy behind the façade. Knowing nothing about altering bodies surgically, he had no idea where Kitten was in the spectrum of becoming female, other than what he could see. And in the dim light, with nothing but a cock exposed, he saw a fabulous young man. His own dick responded and the sight of him getting aroused made Kitten grin. John sat on the edge of the mattress and John reached to the shirt she wore. At first she moved away, then allowed him to touch it. He could feel she had bound her small breasts with something, hiding them in an effort to not turn John off. He raised the shirt, and that also seemed to annoy Kitten but she allowed him to satisfy his curiosity. Indeed, Kitten had used some kind of elastic bandage to bind herself, making her chest appear flat. “Does it hurt?” “No.” Kitten touched the shirt, as if she wanted to tug it down, keeping the binding hidden. It only served as more confusion to John. He interlaced his fingers and tried to think through a cocaine, valium, and booze influenced brain. Kitten took one look between John’s legs, saw his cock had gone soft, and rolled to her side, away from John and let out a sigh. “Did you do that for me?” John asked. “Go to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.” Hearing a sob break from her, John touched her shoulder and urged her to roll to her back so he could see her. “You did. You did that for me.” She wiped at her face roughly, ridding what John suspected were tears, since the light was so dim. “Kitten, don’t do things like that for other people. Be who you are.” As if it was bottled up inside her, Kitten yelled for the first time since John had met her, “You want a boy!” “So?” Kitten threw off the blankets and made a move to get off the bed. John held her back and she jerked from his touch but he held on. He drew her closer and stopped her from fleeing. “You do what you want in life, not what others want.” He could see clearly another sob was bit back from her. John tried to comfort her, looking at the shirt barely covering her shaven pubic hair and the dangling genitals under it. “I…” Kitten sniffled. “I want you.” John gestured to the bed. “I was going to suck and fuck you. Sleep with you all night.” Kitten covered her face as if either in shame or hiding her emotions from John. “Help me out here, Kitten. I’m a fucked up eighteen year old who is lost in LA.” “You’re not the only one.” John hugged Kitten and rocked her. “We’re both tired. Get in bed and sleep.” He nudged her.
