“Daniel, this is the second job you’ve washed out of. We need to figure something out!”

Aunt Sarah leaned into Daniel’s room. Daniel was sitting as his little table in a pair of white underpants and a peach-colored t-shirt. The table was crowded with his favorite toys .. “My Little Pony” dolls or as he called then “Pretty Ponies”

Daniel, at age 20, was a classic “fail to launch” situation. He had a total of two jobs, one making sandwiches, and one packing earphones into boxes. Both had lasted less than two weeks. Any hint of disapproval would send him into tears and the managers just didn’t want to deal with such a fragile ego. Plus his feminine looks and affectations invited teasing from male co-works compounding the situation.

To be fair, Daniel didn’t have it easy. He lived with his aunt since age sixteen when his own mother had died unexpectedly, and with the father long out of the picture he moved into his Aunt’s house. His own sister, who had a completely different personality moved to a different Aunt’s house across the country. Last he had heard of her, she was a total tomboy, and was leaning into a female to male transition. They weren’t close and never rarely communicated.

Aunt Sarah had raised Daniel as best she could, without the experience of children of her own. He barely made it through high school, and enrolled for a couple of years at the local junior college. He had tried for a pre-RN program, but washed out with the math and science. He then tried various fashion classes, and ended up quitting all together after a couple of years. Unlike most of his generation he didn’t spend his time gaming on the computer, but instead playing with dolls, and keeping his room super neat. He was also very helpful around the house, and kept it to an impeccable level of cleanliness. He was super respectful to Aunt Sarah, always calling her “Miss Sarah” or “Auntie”. He did his chores and more, always eager to please her. His style of dress was interesting. He tended to choose muted pastel colored shorts, typically gym style shorts and soft cotton t-shirts also in pastels. Aunt Sarah thought me might be gay, but as far as she could tell he seemed closer to asexual .. never expressing interest in boys or girls. She accepted his odd dressing style with enthusiasm … having a strong male presence in the house would have been more than she could deal with, as she was more of a lesbian herself. As far as she was concerned Daniel not bringing over a girlfriend or boyfriend just made it easier to enforce rules.

The job situation was getting critical, however. Aunt Sarah lived off a smaller pension and at age sixty really needed a second stream of income to make ends meet. Daniel’s two failed jobs didn’t bode well for traditional employment. Her first strategy was to get him to do some job that paid a few dollars that he could actually handle.

Aunt Sarah was an avid watercolorist. Once a week she attended a painting group about a dozen local ladies, … all older than 40 typically. They’d paint a common subject and discuss styles. Typically a vase of flowers, or some the classic bowl of fruit. Lately there had been grumbling about wanting to paint the human figure, but none of the ladies were willing to be the model. They tried hiring one off Craigslist but in typical Craigslist fashion the model quit at the last minute and another bowl of fruit want painted by the frustrated ladies. Finally they were able to get a daughter of one of the ladies to pose, but she refused to disrobe and was horrible at obeying commands to stay still for any length of time.

It was from this that she had an idea, why not have Daniel pose. Typically they had asked for female models but he had classic good looks … he looked quite a big younger than his 20 years and he was very docile and would always obey commands. She decided to call Dr. Susan the leader of the group

“Sarah? A surprise call. What’s on your mind?”

Aunt Sarah wasted no time. “Susan, I might have a figure model for tomorrow. I know you needed one badly.”

A pause—so faint most would miss it, but Sarah heard the hopeful whetstone edge in Susan’s breathing. “Go on.”

“Not the usual—a male. But pretty-looking. I can guarantee he’ll hold the poses, and he’s very obedient.”

Another pause, longer. For a heartbeat Sarah thought Susan had muted the line. “I see,” came at last, low and careful. “What is his build?”

The way she phrased it made Sarah smile. “He’s delicate—almost girlish, honestly. My nephew. Very slender. Not hairy.”

“I don’t know Susan, the ladies really like to draw females, I think they’re a bit intimidated by the male figure, how girlish is he?”

Sarah chuckled. “He weighs one twenty, dripping wet. No body hair. Shorter than me, and I’m five-four. Long eyelashes, tiny nose, almost a baby face. I can make him wear a tank if you think it will help.”

A sharp click—as if Susan had set down a mug hard—echoed faintly through the receiver. “Does he object to feminine garments? The other ladies… they respond better to a certain delicacy.”

Sarah scanned Daniel’s door, still ajar. He wouldn’t hear. “He’ll do what I tell him. He’s fragile, Susan, but he obeys.”

“Such as?”

“Such as?” Sarah’s mind clicked. “Panties, Susan? You want him in lingerie? Panties and bra?”

“Well I think the group would actually respond well to painting a male if he was wearing panties and was … you know .. Emasculated a bit. No need for the bra as that would look silly without breasts, but a pair of woman’s classic nylon briefs, full cut, I think they’d be delighted. Question is … do you really think he would be willing to wear something like that?

Aunt Sarah pinched the phone between shoulder and ear. She surveyed Daniel, who was still pushing two ponies in slow, amiable circles over the table’s surface, eyelashes so long she could see their shadows sweep his cheeks.

“He will wear what I lay out for him. If panties are what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”

On the other end of the line, Dr. Susan’s approval curled out soft and catlike: “Bring two changes, vivid colors. If he’s shy, a t-shirt, suitably feminine, is OK, but we both know second pose will be panties at the knees, so he needs to be completely shaved; everywhere if you get my drift”

“Oh that’s already done! He’s been doing that since he moved in. Never understood it myself, but yes he shaves his legs and pubic area already”

“Wonderful, sorry but that’s a stickler for me if we’re going to allow males. You know it’s tomorrow morning at 7:00, can you put together his wardrobe by then?”

“Yes if I rush out now I can hit Kohl’s right before they close!”

“Great, then see you tomorrow morning … arrive at 6:30 sharp so we can change him into his outfit.”

She got to Kohls with 20 minutes to spare. She knew she had to work fast, and hustled over the underwear section. She guessed his size at a size 5 briefs and surveyed the choices. Lots of racy bikinis, thongs and novelty underwear. No this is not what Dr Susan wanted at all. Plain nylon briefs … known as “granny panties” to many. She finally had to ask an associate and was directed to a different isle where the “regular” panties were available … prepackaged into little plastic bags. She found the briefs section and found most where cotton, and mostly plain white. She rejected those, but did grab a bag of cotton briefs that had a variety of feminine prints on them. One had little flowers, one had little bows, and the third one seemed to be kittens playing with string. The nylon choices seemed to be too plain, but at the last minute she saw some that were perfect … lace waistbands, full coverage and a three pack of pink, mint green and peach. Perfect! She grabbed a bag of size 5 and for safety threw bag of size 6 in her cart as well. On a whim she bought a bag for herself in size 10 … they seemed very cute for ‘granny panties’ From there she hustled over to t-shirts to get him a couple of t-shirts that were feminine. She deiced that a crop top made the most sense and found a couple of crop tops that had cute cap sleeves. What made them even more fun were the print on the front of the shirt. Stylized flowers and funny messages such as “Sweetheart”, “Good Girl” and other cute saying. She selected the “Sweetheart” top in a light blue along with a more full shirt that had the message “Obedient!” in a cursive script adorned with small daisies. Lastly she found a shirt that featured his favorite thing … “my little pony” on a bright pink shirt. It would be tight be it might just fit. Why not for eight dollars? For kicks she grabbed a couple of pull over training sports bras that she eyeballed would fit his frame. For good measure she grabbed a cheap pack of hairbands, just because Daniel’s bangs always hung limp in his eyes and it never occurred to him to clip them.

Nothing for it, she swung by the Dollar General and bought an eight-dollar pair of knockoff ballet slippers, and some bright nail varnish in coral, lipstick, plus the least-ugly blush in their whole criminally sparse makeup aisle.

She was pleased to see the TJ-MAX still open and popped in … what should she get him to wear over his outfit when driving him over tomorrow? She wanted to make a good impression to Dr. Susan and took a risk buying a cover-up dress that could go with the slippers. She settled on a oversized cotton knee length dress that looked like it would swallow him whole, light blue, soft enough to double as a nightie. She circled back to the checkouts, basket clattering, and was rung up by a cashier no older than Daniel.

By the time she made it home, Daniel had already brushed his teeth and was sitting lotus-style on top of his still-made bed, arranging his ponies. When Sarah entered bearing the spoils, he looked up with a weak, hopeful smile, the kind that always made her forgive him a dozen grievances at once.

“What’s all that, Auntie?” he asked, voice trembling at the edge of a whine and a plea for reassurance. Probably worried she was buying things for his next doomed job, which in a way was exactly true. She sat beside him and decided to be direct.

“I got you a job … well not really a job, more like a ‘gig’ but maybe it leads to bigger things later.”

Daniel almost cried on the spot … another job .. another chance to fail. Boys teasing him, bosses yelling at him.

“What kind of job … er gig?” he asked in a shaky voice.

“This one is easy! “ She said with a excited voice “You know the paining group I go to once a week?”

“Yes … I know” with genuine confusion.

“Well they need a model. All you have to do is pose for them, holding a position and doing whatever Dr Susan says. Just a couple of hours and they’re paying 300 dollars! That’s more than you made in two days at your last job!”

Daniel blinked at her. He rubbed his eye with a slender knuckle, as if that might help the words untangle themselves into sense. “They want me? To be... in the painting?”

Aunt Sarah pulled the bags onto the foot of the bed. “That’s right. You just need to hold a pose, like a statue. It’s indoors. Safe. No noise, nobody yelling, all older ladies, no boys”

“But,” Daniel managed, “why do they want a boy model? I thought it was always girls.” He plucked at his thin t-shirt, aware of his own smallness, his lack of chest or hip, his plain rawness.

She smiled, eyes crinkling. “The last girl they tried wouldn’t stop fidgeting. They want someone who can actually hold still. And you are, from my many years of observation, the world’s quietest, stillest person.”

Daniel fidgeted, squeezing the bedsheets, still not quite able to believe Aunt Sarah was serious. “I mean, I’ll try, if that’s what you want. Will they, uh, make me… you know?”

“Sorry know what?”

“Well I mean be naked?”

“Yes and no Daniel, but remember this is $300 we’re talking about, so it seems a small price to pay. You’re to be posed in two poses. One wearing one of these shirts …” she referenced to the “Obedient” and “Sweetheart” shirt and a pair of these underwear” pointing to package of panties. “Then one pose facing them without the shirt and your panties at your knees”

But remember .. it’s all ladies in there” Do you think you can do that for me? If not we’re going to have to find you more traditional employment Daniel.” Her last sentence conveyed the gravity of the situation. “Daniel, it’s not degrading. It’s art. It’s something you can do—that nobody else in town can do half as well, I promise you. I’d do it myself honestly but they don’t want a sixty year old plus sized lady”

Daniel let out a little giggle “I guess I can try, but what if I cry?”

Aunt Sarah took his hand, squeezed once. Her own hands were padded and warm, bigger than his. “If you cry, you cry. Artists love painting real emotions,” she said

“To be honest that will probably help the pose, as they are trying to capture the feminine size of young modern males, so don’t worry, nobody will tease you. Again I’d pose with you if they wanted me to, but I just think I’m a tad too old and way too fat” she said

“I wish you could” Daniel said “And I don’t think you’re too old or fat!”

The words, “I wish you could,” hovered between them, sweet and wobbly. Aunt Sarah gave him an extra squeeze and let his hand go. Daniel stared at the pile on his bed. The bags all looked so colorful, more like party favors than a uniform or kit.

“So, should I try them on?” It came out tentative, almost trying to make a joke of it, but Aunt Sarah’s nod was utterly sincere.

“I know it’s a bit weird, but it’s best to make sure they fit, and I can help you put together a cute look.” She held up the “Sweetheart” crop top between finger and thumb. “Honestly, you make these things look adorable, and you know I’m not just saying that.”

He blushed so hard it felt like his ears went hot. Daniel opened the first bag of panties, the nylon ones, feeling immediately the strange tickle of their unfamiliar finish against his palm.

“Choose a pair, and guess what? I bought some in my size too so we can wear them together” Aunt sarah said while lifting her dress over her head.

She was in her bra and full slip underneath, so the lack of modesty seemed, at that moment, not worth noticing.

Daniel undressed all the way and chose the mint green nylon panties which he slipped on along with the “Sweetheart” crop top. They both fit perfectly. Aunt Sarah pulled off her panty girdle from under her slip and chose her large sized

matching green panties and pulled them up. She then lifted her slip to show Daniel.

“See! We’re like twins! Now take those off and go to bed, we have to be there by 6:30 tomorrow morning”

Morning came too soon, and a very sleep Daniel was woken by Aunt Sarah at 5:30.

“Into the shower, make sure to touch up shaving everywhere and then come to my bedroom naked, and we’ll get you dressed”

In the shower, Daniel obeyed every step in the order Aunt Sarah had said, even if it meant using the strawberry-scented skin lotion that made him feel sticky and raw. He’d left the door a crack open per usual, both for air and so Aunt Sarah could pop in if she needed.

He barely finished scrubbing himself before a sharp “Daniel, come on!” rang out down the hallway. Without drying off enough, he padded to her room, dripping onto the dotted bath mat she kept by her own vanity.

On Aunt Sarah’s bed lay the pink panties, the “Sweetheart” crop-top and a purple sports bra. Also, the dress was laid over to the right.

“We’re running late” she said, “Get these clothes on without any fuss or messing around.” He knew this tone of voice … it indicated that no fussing around would be tolerated.

He did NOT want a spanking or worst, one of Aunt Sarah’s “Punishment enemas” this morning. He struggled with the bra having never worn one before but managed. He donned the shirt and panties. Aunt Sarah slid the oversized dress over his head and helped him with the ballet flats

“If this becomes a thing … we’ll figure out some hoisery solution in the futre” she said nobody particualr.

“Grab a granola bar you can eat in the car … chop chop”

The sun had barely started thinking about coming up as they pulled into the parking lot outside the strip-mall medical office complex, half the storefronts still dark or shuttered.

Aunt Sarah’s energy filled the car. Her engine: three sips of gas station coffee, the rest running on duty and worry. She fixed Daniel’s hair, brushing the errant baby strands back off his forehead, then fitted the pink scrunchie from the pack onto his head. “Perfect. Adorable.” Daniel felt the compliment’s heat crawl along his scalp and cheeks.

The inside of the “Community Wellness Group” smelled different from his last doctor’s visit—a mix of floral air freshener and rubber.

Dr Susan’s clinic was 90% an enema clinic and 10% and art studio … Since this was a enema clinic it was arranged a huge bathroom with tile floors, a toilet and walk in shower in a corner. An exam table was front and center. For art days, such as this morning, the empty space was occupied with chars and portable easels. About 10 paining stations faced the exam table. Usually the bowl of fruit or bouquet of flowers would be placed on the exam table, but today finally a proper subject was to be painted.

“Wow, better than advertised!” beamed Dr Susan “In a dress no less! Well the painters arrive in 30m, let’s get him ready, I’d like to add a bit of makeup and see his first outfit, so I can make any adjustments needed Can you take off his dress please miss Sarah?”

It was clear that he was not in control. All posing, wardrobe changes, etc would be performed by either the doctor or his Aunt. Despite his greatest effort he felt tears welling up.

He let Aunt Sarah peel the dress up over his head. The air in the clinic was cold against his damp bare arms. He saw himself in the mirrored paper-towel dispenser: purple sports bra clinging to his ribs, pink panties slicing a perfect marshmallow line across his hips, thighs so smooth and pale he almost looked airbrushed. His knees felt glued together.

“Why don’t you sit up on the table,” Dr. Susan said, like it was just a dentist visit.

Daniel obeyed, because what else was he supposed to do? His ballet flats made a wet slap each time he took a nervous step.

Dr Susan was enamored with the “Sweetheart” shirt but wanted to see the other choice “Miss Sarah, can I see the other option you mentioned?”

Aunt Sarah reached over, pulled the “Sweetheart” crop top up over Daniel’s head (the motion yanking at his ears a bit) and swapped in the boxy blue “Obedient!” tee, which felt much heavier and stranger against his bony shoulders. It came down long enough to hide the waistband of the pink panties, which was somehow even more embarrassing—like there was a secret underneath.

Dr. Susan bent low, close enough that Daniel could smell the mint of her toothpaste and the faint chemical sharpness of toner. “This is perfect,” she said, “but the panties must show for the first pose. We’re not painting advertising, we’re painting Daniel.” She solved the problem by tying a knot, keeping it above his panty waist band.

Dr. Susan produced a cheap plastic compact and began brushing foundation across Daniel’s cheekbones, then traced his lips with a waxy stick of coral that tasted like crayons. “Don’t pucker,” Dr. Susan said, and Daniel tried to flatten the quiver that threatened to make the lipstick slip.

“You know I have a lot of trans patients and have a few extra forms in the backroom, would you mind if we put a couple in his bra?” Dr Susan asked

Aunt Sarah regarded Daniel’s chest a half second too long, then nodded briskly. “Yes, let’s do that. If it helps him fit in, absolutely. Do you want to start with the small ones or something more dramatic? I have no idea how these things work.”

Dr. Susan already had the forms out—a clear ziploc crinkling in her latexed hands, inside which lay two pale crescents that looked more like chicken cutlets than anything alive. She fished them out, weighed them in her palm, then bent in and, without even asking, slipped her hand under the purple sports bra and smoothed the form flat against Daniel’s skin.Warm, and then weirdly cold. Dr. Susan’s hand was rubbery and clinical, like she was installing something, not touching skin, and the second “breast” form squished in against his ribs even as the first one was still settling. The weight made the bra tug and hug in totally alien ways. Daniel stared down. He could see the concentric edge of the thing under the spandex. His heart battered at his chest, the shock of it so sharp he almost laughed. Like Halloween, only glossy and real and not a single mask in sight.

Aunt Sarah sighed contentedly. “You look adorable.

Dr Susan laughed a little saying “It’s lucky no boys are in the art class, although I think the women will be equally delighted. But they’ll be here any minute, let’s get him in his first pose please”

Aunt Sarah needed to know about what she was insinuating about the “boys” and asked casually as they put him in position

“Oh just meant that it’s been my experience that even the most ‘straight’ men go absolutely crazy for a boy dressed as a girl, but not to worry it’s all post-menopausal women this morning, but if you really want to make money” she joked “Well let me know if you want more information”

“Oh probably not that … he cries and is so intimidated

Aunt Sarah turned Daniel around so his rear pointed square at the painters’ easels. She guided him up onto the cold vinyl step of the exam table, then bent his knees until he was kneeling, and tucked his ankles under so the flats dangled off his feet comically. The t-shirt, knotted at the waist, hovered above his pink nylon briefs. Only his smooth, shivering thighs and, bubblegum-pink triangle of panty covered bottom presented to the room. A line of soft pressure from Dr. Susan’s hands smoothed him into place—shoulders back, chin up, hands on thighs as if waiting to be examined by the doctor.

He could only hear the ladies file into the room, but the conversations were quite ecstatic

Daniel heard the slide of a folding chair, an urgent squeak of marker on whiteboard, then a chorus of “Oh my god, how darling,” and “Look at his bottom, so bashful!” “Look at those legs,” said another, breathless, almost greedy. “I mean, if I didn’t know, I’d say he was a girl till I saw the haircut. Even then, hardly. You could tell me that was just a pretty girl and I’d believe it.” “Is he wearing a bra? Oh my god, that is precious,” said a third

Dr Susan said “OK ladies this is Daniel, but we’re going to call her Dani. This first post is inspired by what I see when a patient is getting in position for an enema, but since this is her first time we’ll keep her panties and little shirt on. But don’t worry second will have her in bra with her panties down, unless you’d prefer her braless

Aunt Sarah was thrilled that Daniel was now “Dani” and being referred to as “she”

The first pose must be held for forty minutes, Dr. Susan told Dani. Only during “Breaks” would she be allowed to move or to use the bathroom. Dr. Susan had a timer; Dr. Susan had everything under control.

The first ten minutes of the pose, Dani’s thighs burned and tingled. The plastic of the step left crinkly red marks along her knees. The women studied her from the horseshoe of easels, pencils moving in quick, blunt scritchings. Some painted, some sketched; a few took pictures with cell phones for further painting later.

Dani was allowed a five minute break after 15 minutes but put right back in the pose for the last 20 minutes. Dr Susan asked the ladies to agree up on a second pose amongst themselves and report back to her. The ladies quietly debated and decided on a much more daring second post. First of all she must face them this time, her shirt was to be removed but the bra and forms to stay in. Her panties to be lowered to her knees and her hands at her hips. They gave Dani a 10 minute break. Meanwhile Aunt Sarah looked at what the ladies had drawn and painted.

Rarely was Dani alone in the picture. Most of them had a second person, usually in the spirit of the painter herself, or perhaps her husband besides Dani in some sort of medical fetish fantasy. Three examples stood out:

One painting, the first Sarah picked up, was a loose watercolor sketch, but what a sketch: Dani, in almost photographic focus, perched shyly on the step, lacy-pink bottom framed by the knotted “Obedient!” tee, but beside her on the table stood a stern nurse in cartoonish cap, holding a thick enema nozzle. The nurse’s smile was wide, almost maternal, her other hand resting gentle but firm on Dani’s lower back. Around the central image the painter had inked little text bubbles—direct quotes from Dr. Susan and the others. “Such a good girl!” “Look at those legs!” “Pretty as a picture” and in bigger, looping script: “Obedient, even for her first time.”

The second piece that caught Aunt Sarah’s attention was rendered in colored pencil, the palette almost sugary in its pastels. This one had taken liberties with the proportions, stretching Dani’s legs to impossible lengths, exaggerating the concave sweep of her waist, making her seem even daintier and more fragile than in life. The artist had drawn a row of old-fashioned medicine bottles along the shelf behind the exam table, each with a bright, handwritten label: CASTOR OIL, SEDATIVE, LAVENDER ENEMA. In the picture, Dani’s hands weren’t just resting passively on her thighs; the artist had posed her fingers curled in anxious little fists, as if bracing herself for the next indignity.

—the third piece looked more like a comic page than a painting. Multiple panels, a sequence: first Dani with her back to the “nurse,” looking over her shoulder all big-eyed, bottom hiked in the air. Next, the nurse lowering Dani’s panties and exposing a little pink behind. Third, the nurse holding a terrifying rubber enema bulb while Dani’s face squinched up in visible dread. The final panel—somewhat exaggerated—Dani bent fully over the table, with angry blue lines around her bottom, and little cartoon stars suggesting pain or humiliation. At the bottom, the artist had written “Sometimes medicine is best administered with a firm hand.”

The second pose then started … Dani facing the ladies this time, in her sports bra (no shirt), and panties at her knees. Her penis flaccid (Aunt Sarah had never known Daniel to achieve an erection) and his made up face in a bright red blush.

This time no breaks, she had to stay like this for forty minutes. Aunt Sarah couldn’t wait to see the results and she was not disappointed.

After the session ended and the group was released for a break, Aunt Sarah floated from easel to easel, as much to keep warm as to keep her hands from trembling. She found herself drawn to the cluster of painters nearest the front, bunched like schoolgirls over their foam-core boards.

The first painting she saw was a full frontal, watercolor. The artist had captured Dani mid-pose—knees locked together above trembling calves, panties bunched awkwardly around pale, stick-thin ankles. Dani’s hands clutched, knuckle-white, just below the hem of the sports bra. The penis, small and soft, pointed straight down, as if embarrassed to be present at all.

The second drawing again was a multi-panel cartoon. This time the second subject was clearly the artist herself, and the topic was delightfully naughty. In the first panel the artist, quite a zoftig woman was adorned in a very short wedding dress holding Dani’s hand. Dani was dressed in the sports bra and panties at her knees as she had posed. The panel’s caption said “Danielle and her new wife, Mrs. Lumpkin!” The caricature of the artist featured a veil, the mesh shadowing her own moon-round cheek, and Dani herself drawn even more childishly—grinning, the blush painted so deep it nearly masked her shock. The next panel: the “wedding night,” which showed the artist’s cartoon version with Dani bent over her lap, panties bunched at the knees, the dress hoisted up in an echo of the morning’s pose. The artist had drawn enormous pink hearts all around the panel, and speech bubbles that read, “My, you are a bashful bride!” and Dani imploring “Please do not spank me!”

Three panels completed the cartoon. One had Dani clearly giving his new ‘wife’ oral sex, with a comically large sex toy embedded in his bottom. The caption said “Dani learns the rigors of married life” The last two clinical visits where poor Dani would be given breasts implants and a sex change operation. The panels had a sweetness to them that made Aunt Sarah warm. One of the panels had Dani looking down at herself (himself? Aunt Sarah felt the language slip sideways in her brain) in a mirror, inspecting her chest, now swollen with cartoonishly huge silicone breasts, with large pink nipples. The next panel showed the moon-faced artist escorting Dani into a bridal suite, Dani’s sad erection now swapped for the happy bulge of a soft, pink vulva, cartoon hearts and musical notes all around. The last panel showed Dani in bed, naked except for a mesh babydoll nightgown, sleeping with her head in the lap of the moon-faced artist—who was feeding her grapes from a plastic hospital dish.

The poses done, Daniel was allowed to dress back in his dresses and the ladies collected their painting equipment and departed. Soon only Aunt Sarah, Dr Susan and Dani remained.

“Dani dear” said Dr Susan .. be a dear and wait in the bathroom while we talk please?

Dani did as she was told.

“Well how do you think it went?” asked Aunt Sarah

Dr Susan removed her glasses and buffed them on her white coat. “Outside of her tendency to cry, I’d say she’s leagues ahead of the models we’ve gotten off the internet. There’s a natural vulnerability—but also obedience. Even call it spirit, of a sort, but not the show-off kind. It’s rare, actually, seeing someone so unguarded.” Her tone was clinical, but it had a twist of professional admiration. “I’d like to make this a weekly thing if you and Dani are up to it. We could even up the fee to $500 a week”

“To be one hundred percent honest” Sarah said “I’d do it for free!” and they both laughed.

“Shall we try again next week?”

“Absolutely” Sarah said … “Anything I should shop for before next week?”

Aunt Sarah ran through a mental inventory before offering. “Maybe some mock nurse uniforms? Could be playful with it. Or pajamas, or those baby-doll nighties if it’s OK.” Dr. Susan didn’t laugh at all—just nodded, eyes sharp as a kitchen knife above her smudged glasses. “That would be delightful. If you want, I can text you some reference photos.” She thumbed her phone, typing rapid staccato. “Also, I can supply medical implements for still life. Syringes, enema bags, old hot water bottles, stethoscopes, you name it.”

Dr. Susan tucked her phone away. “One more ask, actually. My work at the clinic, it’s increasingly short staffed. I just lost my last nurse, and it’s impossible to find anyone local who doesn’t balk at the odd hours, or get squeamish at the procedures.” She slanted a look at Aunt Sarah over her glasses. “If Dani’s ever interested in something more than modeling, even just to assist with linens, prepping, cleaning, I’d train her myself. Uniform and all.”

Aunt Sarah nearly clapped. “He--she--was in a pre-RN program once, before it didn’t stick. Hasn’t fainted once in all the years I’ve known her, even with blood or, ah, other fluids.”

“Oh, she’d do it,” Aunt Sarah said, feeling more rattled than she let on. “Absolutely. She does what she’s told. I am a firm diciplinairan and I would give you full authority to do whatever you need to keep her in line. I assume she’d work as Dani not Daniel?”

Dr. Susan made a noise like a soft throat-clearing. “Dani, absolutely. Our clientele don’t care about credentials, frankly. If she’s got the steady hands and can mind her manners, I’d prefer her over most every nurse I’ve hired. It’s more about composure than anything clinical.” She glanced down at her phone, then back at Aunt Sarah. “If it works out, eventually I may want to have her receive a set of imiplants but not right away, but are you OK with the concept of that?”

“Oh absolutely, but honestly we don’t have nearly the funds for such an operation” Dr Susan surprised her with a quick shake of her head, as if Aunt Sarah had missed something basic. “No, no, I cover implants and facial feminization, if we get that far. It’s good for marketing, and we have donors.” She said it so matter-of-factly that Aunt Sarah blinked. “Just bring Dani in Tuesday, 7AM. Uniforms first, then training. Does she need to give notice at her current job?”

“Oh, she’s free. Absolutely free to start.”

“Great then … and last suggestion … treat her as Dani from now on, I get the feeling that will not be a problem will it?”

“Not at all. She’s Dani now, and thanks so much!”

With that Sarah gathered a very tired Dani and took her home.

Coming up … Chaper Two … Nurse Dani’s first day!