Journey of the Soul - Part 4, The Trip to Stanholtz
Please Note: This continuing story is fictional. Any perceived similarity to real persons, either living or dead, is strictly coincidental. Although it's intended primarily as an entertaining story with alternative sex, the "story" part takes priority over the "sex". If you are looking to read a story that is pure sex with almost no plot, don't bother with this one. It's rather long, presented in several parts, and (just as is usually the case in real life) the sex portions are slow to develop. Also, if you are below the legal age or fiction of a sexual nature is illegal where you live, please leave now.
Summary of previous episodes: Abducted by unknown individuals working for his wife, and left for dead as the victim of a staged car accident just off a remote mountainside, young Software tycoon Paul Taylor recovers in the cabin of Rusty MacDonald. With his own clothes ruined in the "accident", Paul has little choice but to borrow the clothes left in the cabin by Rusty's late sister. A secret crossdresser, Paul finds himself adopting, and becoming comfortable with, a female persona. One thing leads to another, and soon Paul (now thinking of himself as "Paula") and Rusty become sexually involved, first with Paul giving Rusty an impromptu blowjob, and then actually sleeping together. Their relationship develops to the point where the two find themselves in love and committed to a life together. Rusty develops a plan that, if successful, will allow Paul to truly become a woman, while still seeing to it that Paul's estranged wife gets the punishment she deserves, instead of being rewarded by inheriting Paul's estate.
It only took Paula about 20 minutes to write the carefully worded letter to her attorney, designed to cast as much suspicion towards Patti as possible, yet without anything included that would display any unbelievable levels of precognition. It merely stated that he suspected her of having an affair, and that he thought she may be trying to find a way around the prenuptial agreement. Training Old Lobo to do his part, however, was considerably more difficult. It wasn't until the third day of setting out bowls of broiled rabbit for him that Paula was finally able to coax him into the cabin. When Rusty returned that evening he started the process of training the semi-wild animal to play mailman, a process that consumed another two days and several pounds of venison. Finally, Rusty felt the wolf-dog was up to the task, and man and beast set out on foot together for the arduous climb up the steep slope to the site of the crash where Lobo had found Paula months earlier.
It was nearly dark before they returned, with Rusty beaming like a schoolboy, pausing to pet and heap praise on Lobo about every ten steps. Paula could tell from Rusty's demeanor, even when they were still hundreds of yards away, that the mission had been a success. She'd never doubted that they'd be successful, and had planned a special dinner with venison steaks for all three of them, and had picked the sexiest cocktail dress she could find in her closet for the occasion. Next came the hard part . . . waiting for the snow to clear enough to be able to drive out through the pass and into civilization.
It was another two weeks before that milestone was reached, but finally the day came when Rusty told her the pass was clear enough to drive through, and they'd be leaving the next morning. He brought a large suitcase, a long garment bag and a small overnight bag in from the storage shed, laying the suitcase and garment bag down on the long-since unused bed in Paula's room, and taking the smaller overnight bag into the room they now shared to pack the few things he'd need for what he said would be a three-day round trip for him. Paula, however, needed to pack as much as she could into the two suitcases for her extended visit to the Stanholtz Clinic.
They packed after dinner, with Paula stuffing the suitcase with her lingerie, toiletries and shoes and a half dozen of her favorite dresses into the garment bag. The plan was for Rusty to rejoin her once the car had been discovered and whatever investigation followed had finished any work that may have brought the investigators to the cabin. She had no idea when, if ever, she'd be able to return to the cabin that she now thought of as "home", and so made Rusty promise that when he rejoined her he'd bring the rest of the wardrobe she'd grown to love so much.
They skipped the normal period of cuddling on the couch, watching TV, opting instead for an hour or so of planning, including Paula's choice of a temporary surname . . . she chose her mother's maiden name of "Reynolds" . . . followed by several hours of long, slow, gentle, passionate lovemaking. Paula drifted off to sleep with her back to Rusty, his big arms wrapped around her and with his softening cock still deep inside her. She felt more at peace and relaxed than she had ever felt before in her life. They were up before dawn, showered, said their goodbyes to Lobo and got ready to go. They gobbled down a quick snack of coffee and toast. Rusty put on an extra flannel shirt and gave Paula his parka to wear during the cold ride into the village, then loaded their luggage and Paula's new laptop and printer into the Jeep. Rusty explained that the Wagoneer had a broken back window and no heater . . . he didn't usually drive it at all during the winter . . . but that he had a car in storage that they could change to in the village just beyond the pass. Later they'd stop, Rusty promised, for a real breakfast when they got to Taos, about a two-hour drive from their canyon. This was the first time that Paula had really become aware of her location . . . the mountains of north-central New Mexico . . . since her abduction. From Taos they'd head north into Colorado, and be at the clinic somewhere around nightfall.
Panic seized her when she finally realized that she was about to go out in public as a woman for the first time. "People will know, Rusty! They'll laugh at me! Everyone will make fun of the crazy guy, running around dressed like a woman!"
Rusty just laughed. "Honey, nobody in this world would ever mistake you for a guy dressed like a woman. Other women will be begging you for advice on clothes and makeup, and the men will be jealous of me, getting to travel with the prettiest girl around. Just relax. Everything will be just fine."
With the river, swollen with water from the snow melt, only yards away from them, Rusty navigated around and through snowdrifts, following a road that probably only he even knew exactly where, beneath the snow, it was located. Finally they reached a particularly narrow point in the canyon, with a wall of snow that would be halfway up their doors in front them, with only a couple sets of snowmobile tracks to show there was any sort of passage possible.
"Hang on!" Rusty called over to her. "It'll be scary for a second or two, but we'll be fine!" Then he gunned the engine.
Paula was too cold at that point to worry about a second or two of "scary", and she didn't see anything to hang onto. Instead she just braced her feet against the floorboards, pressing herself deep into the back of the seat, and closed her eyes. She felt the Jeep give a lurch as it hit the snowdrift, and choked back a moment of fear of getting stuck as the Wagoneer slowed nearly to a stop, and then a feeling of relief as the front wheels caught some traction and they broke through to the other side of the drift. She opened her eyes to see a handful of adobe buildings in the distance, a few with wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys . . . her first glimpse of the outside world in months.
They passed a beat up sign that announced "Welcome to Tres". The bottom part of the sign was missing, and Paula idly wondered what there were three of in this town. Was this "Tres Casas"? No, there were more than three houses. Perhaps "Tres Telefonos". Three telephones might be about right, since only a couple of the houses even had power lines running to them. Rusty slowed and turned at the only side street that branched off the main "street", which was itself little more than a gravel path. They approached a block building that looked like a small warehouse with two garage-style doors in the front and Rusty reached up to the visor and pushed a button on a remote control.
"Time to change to a warmer vehicle" he announced as one of the doors began to lift. He drove into the empty bay and came to a halt, parked beside a gleaming silver Lexus SUV that sat in the other bay. He transferred their luggage to the Lexus while a nearly frozen Paula stumbled across to the newer vehicle and got herself settled into the passenger seat.
The leather seats were like ice, but almost as soon as Rusty had started the car the electric seat warmers began working their magic. Within minutes, with the engine running and the heater on full-blast, the interior was toasty enough for Paula to wriggle out of the borrowed parka, which she tossed onto the back seat. Rusty punched buttons on remote controls, and the first bay door closed as the one in front of the Lexus opened up. Driving out, Paula decided that she wouldn't miss that Jeep one bit. The door closed behind them as they pulled back out onto the side lane, and within minutes they were headed east on a small but paved road, the village of "Tres Something" fading behind them.
They reached Taos around 9:30 that morning and stopped at a great little restaurant called "Michael's Kitchen". And it turned out that Rusty had been right . . . well, at least half right. None of the other women in the restaurant asked her opinion on fashion or cosmetics, nor did any of the men express any jealousy about Rusty's traveling companion. But neither did anyone laugh at her. In fact, nobody even showed any real interest in her, except for the waitress who politely inquired "Would you like some more coffee, miss?" There was, however, one anxious moment. She'd excused herself to visit the rest room, and without even thinking had pushed the door of the men's room open and started to walk in just as a middle-aged man was drying his hands before leaving. She blushed, made a hasty "Oops! Wrong door!" apology, and made a hasty retreat in the direction of the ladies room.
They finished eating, paid the check and got back on the road with no further incident. Once they were moving again, Paula let out a big sigh of relief, and they both had a good laugh over her embarrassing lapse. Rusty stopped at a small electronics store . . . the same place he had purchased her computer, he said . . . and bought a pre-paid cell phone. He tried making a call from inside the car, but the signal kept dropping, so he stopped and got out to make his call. He ended up having to stand on the hood of the car to get enough elevation for a good signal, but he finally got through to his party, and made several other calls from there while Paula stayed warm and cozy in the SUV, with the heater blowing a steady flow of warm air up her dress, warming her legs.
When he got back into the car, Rusty had a smug, self-satisfied grin on his face. "Okay! I've got a paralegal at my firm working on creating a whole set of "replacement" identification documents for you in the name of Paula Reynolds. When we get to Denver I'll hit a BestBuy or Circuit City for a digital camera and get some pictures of you that I can send back to Los Angeles to get incorporated into your new IDs. Ray's Electronics back there didn't have much of a selection of cameras, and they were mostly junk. Meanwhile, the good folks at the Stanholtz Clinic are expecting you. So far, the only real problem I see is that they don't have anybody available for intake after 5 PM, and we won't make it there by then, so we'll have to grab a motel room for the night somewhere around Denver and we'll get you to the clinic in the morning. It's probably just as well. If we get a motel room with high-speed internet, we can get your pictures taken, select the ones you like best and email them into the office. We could have a complete set of identification on its way to you sometime tomorrow afternoon."
The road north out of Taos certainly didn't look much a main route to Denver. Only one lane in each direction, it rode the contours of a valley between two sets of mountains. For a short time Paula began to wonder if Rusty really knew where he was going, but her concerns were put to rest when they intersected with, and headed north on, Interstate 25 sometime in the early afternoon. Less than an hour later they were pulling into the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant, in the small city of Pueblo, for a late lunch. Paula headed for the ladies' room . . . this time she went straight to the right door . . . while Rusty placed their order. Within a half hour they were back on the road again. Less than two hours after that they were coming into Denver. The sun was dropping down behind the mountains when they got off of I-25 onto the Denver-Boulder Turnpike. The clinic, Rusty had told her, was actually nestled in the mountains west of Boulder. About halfway between Denver and Boulder, Rusty spotted a shopping center with a Wal-Mart and a Circuit City, with a Marriott Hotel across the street. He pulled up in front of the Wal-Mart entrance and pulled his Visa debit card from his wallet and told Paula his PIN number.
"Buy whatever you need. I'm sure you've got a list of things you've done without for the past few months, so now's the time to get them. There's plenty of money in this bank account, so don't worry about the expense. But make sure you get yourself a warm jacket. I don't mean to be stingy, but I need my parka back. I'm going over to Circuit City to pick out a camera. I'll pick you up back here in about an hour."
Paula smiled, took the card, gave Rusty a quick kiss and opened the car door to the chill of the Colorado mountain air. Coatless, she dashed the 25 feet to the store's entrance before turning to blow Rusty another kiss. Inside, she grabbed a cart and headed straight back to the Women's Apparel section. She picked out a pretty pink hooded ski jacket with fake fur at the cuffs and around the hood before heading over to the Health and Beauty Aids section, where she got herself a curling iron, some styling gel and a few other necessities. She glanced at her watch and saw she still had about half an hour to kill before meeting Rusty back out in front of the store. She suddenly realized that she was probably the only woman in the store not carrying a purse, so she headed back over towards the Women's section where she'd seen some purses in the Accessories department. With a new purse and wallet in her cart, and with time still to spare, she browsed through the lingerie, where she selected a few "special" items, before checking out. By the time she got through the checkout and got outside, Rusty was waiting for her with the engine running. As she got into the car, he smiled approvingly at the ski jacket.
"Nice jacket! Warm-looking, but still very sexy!"
"Glad you like it! I picked up a few other things that I hope you'll like just as much."
"Great! Let me see!"
"Not yet. Later." She gave him a suggestive wink, handed his Visa debit card back to him and tossed her bag into the back seat as he pulled away from the curb and drove over to the Marriott. While Rusty got them checked into the hotel, Paula sat in the car, transferring a few of the items she'd just purchased into her new purse. She paused in the middle of transferring the new wallet, lipstick, compact and eye makeup from the Wal-Mart bag to the handbag that these were the first feminine articles that were truly hers, and not "borrowed" from Rusty's late sister. She'd felt so comfortable picking them out and purchasing them, that it felt like she'd been doing it all her life.
She finished transferring the smaller items to her purse just as Rusty was leaving the hotel lobby and came out the front door, headed for the Lexus. He drove them around to the side entrance and got out while Paula gathered her Wal-Mart bag and joined him at the door, which Rusty opened with the key-card. She waited just inside the door while Rusty went back to the car for their luggage, marveling at how easily she had adapted to, and learned to enjoy, the role of the weak pampered woman who steps aside to let her man take care of her. Of course, she had also adapted to, and learned to enjoy, the role of the submissive sex object in bed, taking care of her man's more primitive needs in return. They walked together down the hall to their room, with Rusty setting down their luggage before opening the door with the key-card. Rusty seemed about ready to pick her up and carry her into their room . . . actually, a rather nice suite . . . but she walked out of his reach and into the room, giving him a teasing glance back over her shoulder.
"Hey!" he called out to her. "I wanted to be a real gentleman and carry you across the threshold!"
"When you make an honest woman out of me . . . and I guess first someone has to make ANY sort of a woman out of me . . . you can carry me across any threshold you like. Until then, I walk on my own two feet."
"Fair enough, but I see you have no problem with letting me carry all the luggage by myself" he joked back, as he picked up their bags and followed her into the room. Once inside, Rusty started familiarizing himself with the workings of the camera while Paula started setting up her laptop to connect to the Internet.
"Pick out two different outfits to wear for the photos, hon. That way you won't have identical pictures on your new driver's license and your new passport."
She pulled two dresses out of the garment bag and took them, along with her new purse and the Wal-Mart bag, into the bathroom. "Take your time figuring out that camera. I've got some work to do before I'm presentable for a modeling session!"
Twenty minutes later she emerged from the bathroom with perfect makeup, her hair curled into an attractive feminine style and wearing the pink summer dress with the V-neck and a couple of pieces of jewelry from the meager collection she'd brought along. She sat on a stool from the suite's breakfast bar in front of the only bare wall available, and let Rusty take pictures of her from the bust up from almost every conceivable angle and with every expression on her face that she thought might look good on a photo ID. After about two dozen shots she got up and went back to the bathroom to change. She came out with a slight change to the hairdo, different necklace and earrings and wearing a powder blue dress with a scoop neck. Another two dozen pictures later, Rusty felt he had all the shots he needed.
"Okay, babe. You know that I don't know much about computers, so you're gonna have to show me how to get these pictures from the camera, onto the computer and then off to LA."
"Not just yet. We've got one more photo shoot to do before we get into that."
Rusty looked puzzled, but didn't try to stop her as Paula headed back into the bathroom. He had no idea what they needed a third set of photos for, but saw no sense in arguing. When she came back out his jaw dropped. She was wearing an ultra-sheer black baby doll negligee that clearly showed the small, but perfectly shaped, breasts she'd recently developed, with a hemline that barely came down to her hips, where a tiny black thong was barely covering anything.
She climbed up onto the bed and put herself into one of the most provocative and sexy poses she could imagine. "Start shooting. Don't worry . . . these aren't for any sort of ID. These are just for you to keep on the camera, to look at while we're apart. That way you won't forget me too easily."
"Oh, you don't have to worry about me forgetting you! But I don't mind taking a few pictures back with me to drool over until I can come back up here for you!" With that he started shooting away, with Paula changing poses with every click of the camera. Finally she struck a pose where she was on her hands and knees right at the foot of the bed, with her ass pointed towards Rusty, looking back over her shoulder at him. Instead of taking a picture of her like that, Rusty tossed the camera into a lounge chair, moved in behind her, dropped his pants, pulled the thin string of the thong that ran through her ass crack to one side and rammed his cock hard and deep into her ass. What followed could never be described as "lovemaking". It was pure animal sex, with Rusty standing behind Paula, holding her hips, grunting and driving hard with each thrust and Paula moaning lustily as she rocked to meet each of his thrusts. It barely lasted two minutes before Rusty exploded inside her, filling her with a massive load of hot cum.
Afterwards they both collapsed on the bed, with Rusty's pants still around his ankles, until both of their heart rates returned to something resembling normal. Once they recovered, Paula got dressed again and they got busy with the task of transferring the pictures . . . only the "clean" ones . . . to the laptop. Then Paula set up a Hotmail account in Rusty's name and they attached the best of each of the first two groups of photos to an email to the paralegal Rusty had working on Paula's ID problem before going out for a nice quiet dinner. It would be their last night together for several weeks.
They made love again when they went to bed for the night, but it was their more conventional gentle and passionate lovemaking. The sex that both would remember over the coming weeks of separation they were about to endure would be the spontaneous animal sex they had enjoyed at the tail end of the photo session.