Fire and Ice

[Brittany St Jordan]

Read the prior posts to this on my blog

I was working at Quantico doing my Marine thing and then it happened. That single moment where worlds collide and gods go to war with one another as heaven and hell savagely destroy the lands of which they despise. My eyes went from my clipboard to the surroundings of the room of which I was in and bam, there was Maggie. I had no idea who she was or why she was in my building. All I did know that I was drawn to her like a million moths to a single flame. It was that pure cosmic energy that produced an instant chemistry so strong there as no possible way to avoid it let alone deny its very existence. I really liked this girl and I had no fucking clue why.

Maggie and I would be working together on a training exercise in my building for the next several weeks. This also meant we would be going to lunch together, taking smoke breaks together and getting to know one another on a daily basis. Maggie was the first girl of my adult life that I was like, “I am going to be with that chick.” and I made it happen. Every time I opened up to her or made an advance at her it was completely natural and nothing ever felt forced. What made it even more special was when Maggie reciprocated those same things back to me as well. From out of nowhere I went from single to not so single a lot faster than I had anticipated.

I was still legally married to Michelle at the time but we were separated and this was probably exactly what I needed now that my apartment was empty. Maggie was a wealth of knowledge of feminism mixed with openly expressed sexuality that made her the most magical woman I had ever met. Our little spark soon turned into something that would make the city of Chicago look like a campfire. There very few times we were alone, including driving around on base in my car, that we weren't having mind blowing sex or rubbing each other down through whatever clothes we might have had left on. Everything we did was with intensity and passion which only made us crave each others touch that much more.

There were days where we do nothing but stay in bed pleasing each other in every way possible. Two hours would turn into four and then five and once we had mind blowing sex for eight non-stop hours. It was a good thing she was on birth control because we would have been racking up frequent flier points at the local abortion clinic. It went way beyond the simple act of having sex with Maggie. I worshiped every single inch of her body in ways nobody has ever experienced from me since. I could make her wet and keep her cumming for hours. Witnessing the ecstasy and pleasure continually rippling through her body only inspired me to keep doing it until one of us had to finally rest.

One evening she had on a beautiful soft neglige and was having some difficulty with adjusting the straps. So she came over and sat next to me in the darkened room only lit by the few candles burning around us. Maggie leaned her head forward and signaled with her hand for me to assist her. As her hair was lightly hanging by her face I reached over and pulled the straps snug against her skin. She had a coy grin on her face as she slowly turned to face me and said, “That was quick. What are you, a crossdresser or something?” OH FUCK!!!

I quickly laughed it off and made some light humor about just being that good. Inside though, my head was a whirlwind of what the fuck and my belly felt like I hadn't eaten for ten years. This little moment in no way whatsoever derailed our romantic rendezvous for the that evening but it hacked at my soul non-stop every day afterward. How in the world would I ever be able to be with this woman, who I worshiped more than anyone I ever loved, and tell her that this alpha male was really a prissy little girl underneath it all? I decided to go with honesty being the best policy and worked out a strategy to let her know the truth about the girl hidden within the Marine.

I had recovered the negatives from the photos that were burned and had them reprinted. Picking those up at Walmart was quite the fun time as the photos were all coming out of the printer as I showed up. The people working saw the tattoos and the pointing game began to which I just smiled and confirmed that those were in fact the photos I was there to pick up. I had also started to learn digital photography and editing at this time so I was shooting a ton of photos on top of the collection I already had. So this meant I had a well defined photographic autobiography of my other side that I kept hidden from the world.

Maggie was always happy that I would lay on the couch and watch countless hours of woman oriented shows with her without ever throwing a fit. I was the epitome of metrosexuality so there was no reason for her to ever question it. One night we were having a discussion about tights or toe nail polish or some really cute girly thing and I finally decided that it was time to let Maggie into my secret world. We were laying on the loveseat with her resting against me while sitting between my legs. I told her I had something I wanted to tell her and her oh shit meter blew up.

Maggie started throwing out ideas that she thought I was going to talk about and not a single one of them was even close to what I was about say. I told her point blank, “I am a crossdresser.” which was met with a confused “Wait, what?” and I reiterated my first statement again. Maggie seemed to be in a bit of denial and disbelief of my revelation so to prove it to her I broke out my photo album I had been carrying with me for a few weeks waiting for the most appropriate time to share it with her. This was a little less than that perfect moment I was hoping for.

Maggie froze as she began flipping through the pages of her sweet alpha metrosexual tiger dressed as a prissy female in countless outfits and various wigs all with matching shoes. I am still wondering if it was the shock of me dressing like a girl that hit her so hard or the fact that most of my selections of outfits fell into the patriarchal expectation of women in society and her feminist beliefs were being slapped right in the face. I am going to go with it was a combination of both with about three quarters of her emotions about the situation coming from her wounded feminist pride.

The entire shock of everything brought Maggie and I to a screeching halt. We decided it would be best to go our separate ways and just be friends. However, that strong primal attraction to one another was way more powerful that either of our egos. Within a couple of weeks we were back to having lunch during the week and before we know it we were right back to having our marathon pleasure sessions with the exception that now we were throwing in the idea of some anal play with one another. We would take our sex life which was already a very cosmical primal coupling of everything that we both enjoyed sexually and turned up the kinky another notch. Maggie and I would push the sexual boundaries for one another and rarely was there ever a stopping point.

Maggie and I had sex in my car, on my car, in a construction zone at night, at my grandmother's and anywhere we felt the urge to explore one another's body. We even went and bought a strap-on set so that she could take charge in the bedroom. The harness was bit uncomfortable for her but the experience of being penetrated by the woman I worshiped sent me into a whole level of sexual bliss. Our sex life was slowly morphing into me being less aggressive and more gentle with Maggie. This, along with my constant discussion of all things girly really put our relationship into a new place. One I wasn't expecting at all.

Maggie decided that if I really wanted to be a woman in modern society she was going to be the one to show me the ropes and teach me just how women are treated. The lessons that I learned did prepare me for being able to naturally blend in with everyone else on the street when I was dressed up. The mini skirts and stripper heels were replaced with sweater vests, pants and stylish boots. I really was her own personal What Not to Wear project. At that particular point in time that it was exactly what I thought I needed. Being that I was working and living in a very business oriented environment turning the sexy to practical only seemed logical. However, my inner sissy princess would only lay dormant for a matter of time. She was just taking a little vacay for the time being.

Maggie would eventually let me know that during our break up period she had told her mom why we broke up and in turn she told Maggie's dad. So for the time we had spent together after that I had no idea they knew and it came as a shock to me that they never let on or treated me any different had they been totally oblivious to the idea of me wearing dresses and heels. It was really comforting to know that people brought into my world without my consent would be so genuinely nice to the crosddressing Marine dating their daughter.

After a couple of more months of me being more of a girlfriend in guys clothes than the boyfriend I once was, Maggie finally called things off. This time it was harder than before because now I had invested so much of myself into what we had and to see it end tore me apart in every way imaginable. We did muster up the courage to do one last thing together and that was attend the Marine Corps ball. She wore a long red dress that was too stunning to even put into words. When she came to pick up her dress at my apartment and saw he photos of me wearing it was the final nail in the coffin of Maggie and I. It was a rough thing to go through but it was an essential thing to happen so I could learn a lot of lessons that would later help me create my life in ways I could only dream of.

That holiday season Maggie bought me a book, My Husband Betty, as a gag gift and that book really touched on a lot things that I had going on within my own world. I thanked Maggie immensely for the book as it had opened me up to a couple of new ideas and concepts I had yet to ever think of. I went on a kick for some more self-help books and found several that would help me embrace the woman within me without being an asshole to everyone around me to overcompensate for it.

That holiday season was the first time I ever spent the holidays alone. It was nice because there was no rushing around for last minute gifts and all of the usual stresses of the season. It was no longer having Maggie there with me that tore me apart. She had made it abundantly clear that we would in no way ever be together again. My only friend that was still in town during holiday leave was a civilian employee at my building. This would be the first time Sgt Asshole Marine would break down and cry like the woman hidden deep within. I went and retold my story to my friend and wept for hours. It was very cathartic and I felt a million times better afterward. I finally had the capacity to cry in front of someone.

Maggie landed a temporary position in eastern Europe for a little while so she would be leaving the country. Her Mom just so happened to need her computer fixed and called me to come see what was wrong with it. Sitting there in the office and hearing the familiar footsteps of Maggie's boots clicking on the floor made every hair on my body stand on end as my insides began doing cartwheels as the anxiety rippled through every part of my being. Maggie had no idea I had been invited over and when she saw me she was a little less than happy to see me. Her Mom quickly explained why I was there and she had invited me to be there. As Maggie and I hugged goodbye when she got in the car to leave I couldn't help but wonder if her Mom planned that out all along.

While Maggie was overseas we remained in touch and even had a few opportunities to do some kinky cam shows with each other. When she got back to the states we met up a few times and had a night of the most endearing and heartfelt moments of pure blissful pleasure with one another. This would be our one last time for the road as we stopped seeing each other beyond friends after that night. I am really glad we ended the romantic part of us on that instead of the pre-holiday banishment from Maggieland.

By this time I was now legally divorced from Michelle, Maggie was gone and I was left all alone once again to my own devices. I used this time to focus on me and who I wanted to be out in the world at some point someday. I really kicked my photography skills into a whole new level, began shopping for my new wardrobe without regard for military regulations and focused on what I would have to do in order to be happy being me.

In my search for new limits to break I found out about the Don't Ask, Don't Tell program having a third part of Don't Pursue. This meant that as long as nobody physically saw me dressed as a woman there was nothing they could ever do to question me about anything involved with my secret world. I began epilating the hair off of my entire body, arching my eyebrows and painting my toenails all of the time. I had moments where people would make a comment here and there but I brushed it off with a smile and kept on my merry way.

I was now playing dress-up as much as possible in my spare time and going out with my co-worker Eric to punk shows the rest of the time. Partying with Eric was my new release for all of the inner turmoil in my world. Getting pissed ass drunk and losing my hearing one mosh pit at time was my usual weekend routine. Along with Eric's Wife, we were always out and about having a ball. Albeit a giant alcohol fueled ball of fun with no regard for anyone else. It was like being back in high school all over again except now I could afford the good liqueur instead of Mad Dog 20/20.

Back in my apartment of solitude I was always pushing myself to become more of a girl without ever letting anyone know about it. Learning new poses for the camera, mixing and matching clothes and shoes to coordinate new outfits all mixed with the process of learning how to become more feminine. This had become my personal quest to which everything came second. Marine Corps, fuck off. Friends, eh there will be more. Social interactions with people other than online, yea right. I had everything I would need right there in my little office of destiny to finally begin feeling feminine for the first time.

Looking feminine is easy. Anyone can do it with some basic make-up skills and cute clothes. What took that to the next level was feeling the emotional changes that take place whenever I would play dress up. The strong willed dictator of a Marine was fading in with a mix of feminine power which made for an interesting combination of internal emotions on a daily basis. So many times I wanted to just kick open the closet and tell the world all about my secret life. Then there was the knowledge that doing so would shatter the last little bit of my time in the Marine Corps. With under a year to go until I was finally done there was no reason to push buttons that had no reason being pushed at that time.

There was something enchanting about doing my make-up, finding the perfect outfit for the evening and then donning the wig. Once that hair went on it was like a fairy godmother blessed me with all things girly and it encompassed every corner of my world. I would go from Marine to fairy princess as the transformation was completed with the wig of my choice for that particular outfit. Six pack abs and toned legs looked amazing in a tight black dress with stockings and heels. I already had the model walk down from my younger years of raiding mommy's closet so to anyone who would have seen me if I had ever left the house would have in no way ever pegged me as crossdresser. The thorn in my side, or throat I should say, was my voice.

There are very few ways to combine the masculine Marine snarl with a dainty feminine voice. The best I could do at the time was the nasally falsetto that most crossdressers and tranny chicks use. It sounds like a strange mix of a sinus infection with a small rodent being stepped on. No matter how amazing the appearance is on the outside once that imma crossdresser voice comes out everyone immediately knows the truth. It was what it was and for that point in my life it was all that I had. I still looked hotter than most girls born with a pussy so I was really ecstatic about my abilities to embrace the feminine energy within myself.

Before I knew it, my time in the Marine Corps was finally over. The night my contract ended I went to a fetish industrial club dressed for the occasion. It was my evening of liberation as a whole new journey was beginning for me. I already had a new job working with everyone I was stationed with but now as a contractor and my free time was now my me time. Every single day I was delving deeper and deeper into genderfuck rabbit hole to see where it would lead me. I was still very much private about my inner happiness and for me it was fine because I was in no way ready to come out to anyone. I figured by the time I was thirty-five enough family members would be dead and I would have enough female lessons in life that I would be more than prepared to kick down the door.

One day while at work I got a phone call from the guy who I supervised in the Marines with a question about resumes and job interviews. I made some off the cuff comment about his online profile having gay looking pictures to which he replied, “Speaking of pictures, our Officer In Charge (OIC) has a disk with a whole lot pictures of someone dressed as girl.” Fuck...my....life!!!!! Being that I still worked with everyone I was stationed with this was devastating. I did the first thing that came to mind, I called Maggie. I explained to her what was going on and asked her, as she was the only person who knew, how this happened. She said she had no idea but would find out ASAP what was going on.

It turned out that Maggie had inadvertently blurted out that I was a transsexual to some of the guys she worked with at a party one night. They were making fun of tranny this or tranny that so to assuage their homophobic nature Maggie jumped in with the fact that I was a transsexual as if that would magically make them go, “Oh, ok no problem. Sorry for being dominant males in a patriarchal society.” Instead, what happened was one guy told the next guy and the good ole boy network took over from there. I even did a job interview for the section where they all worked and evidently they all knew at that time. It was quite the shocker that not a single one of them made any comments either.

One of the old crusty retired Marines took a huge offense to my new feminine world and downloaded every single photo I had of me posted online and saved them to a disk. He promptly did the Marine thing and took them to my OIC to rat me out and let the Corps handle this little infestation of masculine degradation from its midst. Word has it that when my OIC saw the photos his first reaction was to start slamming things and screamed out “Those eyebrows, those fucking eyebrows!!! I always knew there was something about those goddamned fucking eyebrows!!!!” Oh there was. There was a whole lot more to those eyebrows that he never knew.

This took place the following Monday after my contract had ended with the Marine Corps. It was a blow to their egos, ethos and sexuality with nothing they could do about it. I was clean and clear from the Marines for any kind of punishment and as a government contractor there were specific equal opportunity guidelines they had to follow to keep the military out of hot water with the public. Knowing all of this now did little to calm me down then. I was still panicked about my job and how to handle this. It was only a matter of time before the rumor mill of a military base kicked into high gear so I decided to do the one thing I knew that was within my power, be the one to confirm the rumor and tell everyone else what was happening in my life.

Being outed was scary enough. Having to face friends and co-workers was going to be a whole other mountain to climb. I started with my friend who got me through holidays without Maggie. This time there was no photo album involved or any kind or what if this goes wrong plan b type of thing. I made peace within myself that as I was going to go through this process there was a good chance I would be losing a lot of people along the way. My coming out phrase was “I am going to be living as a girl” and I would let each person counter it with their own questions or emotional input they might have had. My friend being my friend didn't even flinch and was like “Ok, and?” Well, that was easy enough.

I went on base and confronted all of the people I was close with in the building I had worked at. They all heard the rumor so I confirmed it as true and answered the questions they had for me. This was actually quite the smooth sailing ride into living as woman I had yet to ever dream it could be. I only saw it with the possibilities of fights and arguments that would make members of congress blush with embarrassment. I was so focused on what I feared would happen that I was unable to appreciate what could happen. One by one I was slowly letting people into my world and broadening my own borders as well. One group of friends even took me to a titty bar to celebrate. I was like “I tell you I want to live a girl and suck dick and you bring me to the titty bar. Thanks.”

The next step in this new found feminine evolution was going to be facing my family. Going back to where it was always my dirty secret combined with backwoods mentalities was going to make for an interesting journey. My first stop was my Grandmother's as that was where I would always stay when I was visiting. After the usual small talk had settled down I looked over at her and said I something I wanted to tell her. Being that these words usually are very far from something expected to come from my mouth she was instantly very interested in whatever it was. “I am going to live as a girl.”, I told her. To which she replied, “Huh?!?!?” I repeated myself and she sat back and mulled it over for a moment and then asked if I was going to wear dresses. I smiled with a slight laugh and said that I most likely would be wearing dresses. So my Grandmother proceeded to inform me that “Elton John is gay and he doesn't wear dresses.”

There was the usual, “How long have you known?” “Who have you told?” and all of the pretty much basic questions that come with this revelation to someone. Once I was satisfied that my Grandmother wasn't going to rip out her eyes with crochet hooks I decided to go see my Aunt and Uncle who I spent every weekend with a kid while mom was out sucking off truckers. This was going to be one of those moments where no matter what happens I would have the solace of knowing that at least I told them. These particular relatives were my Dad's brother and his succubus of a wife. I knew shit was about to get real.

Upon entering their house the first thing my Uncle started ragging on me about was the pierced ears. They were thick gauged stainless steel rings with a captive bead. I used this as well “I am going to be living as girl from now on.” Which resulted in having a gathering at the dining room table. Now I knew it was really serious. Any time there was a meeting at the table I knew I was in for a rough time. This rough ride would entail being compared to the mentally ill guy who lived down the street, pleaded with to not ever go out public, and basically banished from their existence because I was no longer the good little boy they thought they had raised. That was the last time I would ever talk with my Uncle. He has even made it a point to miss out on family gatherings when he knew I would be there.

The next day I was upstairs at my Grandmother's sorting out some clothes for that night, as I was to be going out with some friends, and I overheard my dear sweet aunt downstairs casting all kinds of doubt and perceived ill will towards the family right to my Grandmother. I promptly went downstairs and the conversation stopped as she heard me approaching. I sat down across form her at the table, another serious talk, and told her point blank “This is my choice in my life. There is no other option that you get to pick from. I am allowing you to either be a part of it or not but either way I am still going to live my life on my terms.” Her response was to break down into tears and blaming the entire world's problems on the fact that I am happy being a girl. I let her have her moment as I stood there with my arms crossed and gave a little nod as to say “Is that it?” to which she gathered her things and left. It was the best feeling in the world to put that cunt in her place.

I told a few old friends about my new journey in life and they were super excited to see me exploring this new corner of my existence. One of which was the cosmo chick from the trailer park days and she admitted that she thought something was up with me in high school but then I joined the Marines so she dismissed it. I went over to see her and her mom all dressed up and ready to hit the bar with another friend who was joining me there. After we played a round questions and aswers I walked the few blocks to the bar and met up with my friend. We sat there enjoying drinks and talking about life since high school. Then something completely out of left field happened. A couple showed up dressed like they were going to prom.

This was dive bar whose main pull was boxing matches that anyone could enter while a live band was playing. Plus there was a tattoo parlor in the front as well. It is amazing what they did with that old skating rink. Redneck ingenuity at its finest. So when the overdressed couple walked in we were like Whaaa? Then a few more showed up and soon the majority of the people at the bar were now dressed like they were going to prom. It turned out that the class I would have graduated with had I stayed at that school had their ten year reunion that night and everyone was heading to the bar. First night home and the freak flag is a flying for all to see.

I hated these people in high school so there was little chance I was going to like them that night any more than I had before. It was enough gratification to be standing there watching boxing matches surrounded by these folks. They all knew who I was and not single one of them said a single word to me. I know I was looking good that night and probably made a lot of guys who picked on me question their sexuality. I love my life.

Now that the cat was out of the bag to everyone who I planned to tell about about my secret world it was time to work on that fucked up crossdresser voice. Voice training is actually quite simple. It just takes a long time to adjust the vocal cords and learn how to use the voice in a new way. Men have a monotone flat voice that has barely any fluctuation to it. Girls have a high pitched voice with a ton of fluctuation as well it is a lot softer sounding. It took me about six months to get my voice to where I was able to carry a conversation with it and another three months to fine tune it to where it is now.

I paid zero money for voice lessons. I did my own research outside of the typical tranny info web sites on how vocal chords and the sounds they make differ from one another. Learning the mechanics of it all was the first step. I started using my throat muscles to hold my voice box (adam's apple) up higher than usual. This gave me the higher pitch. Then I began reading news stories out loud to learn the fluctuations needed to voice complete sentences. These could only be done for small intervals as it is straining the voice to do something unnatural. So when it would start to get scratchy I would stop. I finally had it going really well and then I came down with a cold.

Every bit of voice training went right out the window. What I learned was that I was coughing, sneezing and clearing my throat as I always had in my old voice. I now had to teach myself how to do these things while being able to use my new voice. This is why when I sneeze today it scares anyone who hears it as it is a super shrill burst of energy. To help me along my way I found that gargling with sea salt mixed with warm water while holding the highest pitch possible would extend my vocal range even higher. I also started carrying around cough drops with me so that when my throat gets dry during the day I pop one in and I am able to speak again.

As I said, this was a process. One of which was happening at work while nobody there knew what was going on. I was wearing women's khaki pants and pink polo shirts all of the time and my voice was slowing changing. One day someone asked me for something and when I went to answer my voice cracked. Not a subtle little oh that was cute but a strange mixture of Satan mixed with Tinkerbell. Yea, fucking freaked everyone out. What had happened was my voice box finally succumbed to my will and was now effortlessly sitting high in my throat as I was talking. Still a little raspy but that was the day I lost my boy voice.

I was sweating bullets at work as I had no idea what was going to happen when I came out being that I worked with mostly former military and the people I was stationed with. I scheduled a meeting with HR and pointed out that gender identity was missing from the equal opportunity portion of the company policy manual. She asked why I was concerned with that and I said because “I fall under that and will be coming out” She simply grinned and said, “Oh ok, we already have another person who went threw this before so we can handle it.” A couple of months later gender identity was added to the policy.

The plan was I was going to be going to fill in for someone at the Pentagon who I had filled in for when I first joined the company. The first time she was taking maternity leave and this time she had a week of reserve training she had to do. So the four star Navy Admiral and the three star Marine Corps General who met me fresh out of active duty where now getting to meet the new side of me as a civilian. The Admiral called me into his office and let me know that as long as I was following my heart and was happy I had his full support. The Marine General let me know that he had no way to understand why I would do something like this but he applauded my bravery for doing so. Everyone else in that particular office was totally cool about it as well. My week was soon over and it was time to head back to my usual spot but no longer as a weird guy. Now I was going back as a woman.

During my week away HR briefed management who briefed the desk jockeys about the switch. That first day back was really great. I finally got to do my hair and make-up and wear my cute shoes to work. I was still a work in progress but a lot of progress had already been accomplished. Going back on base and talking with my former OIC was priceless. Now Marines were holding doors for me and calling me Ma'am. Oh sweet joyous world which I live in, I love my life.

This was how I went from jarhead to hey baby in a very short time and partially against my will. I say partially because yes, Maggie outed me but it was me who took that moment and ran with it. I came flying out of that closet faster than my sexy black stilettos could carry me. So I bought a purple pair that could. Yes, my life was derailed from my original plan. However, by finding the courage within myself I was able to not only tell the whole world about my journey but I did it with a huge smile from cheek to cheek and a mountain of pride that nobody could ever stand up against. I did all of that and that was just the beginning.

[nysprod]

An interesting read, for sure...