[Patreon Exclusive] SHAMELESS SHEMALE: Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Jerry’s cab pulled up in front of a large, beautiful Victorian-style hotel out in the Vermont countryside. It sat nestled in a sea of orange and yellow leaved autumn trees, which swayed graciously in the warm fall breeze.

Jerry stepped out of the cab and looked around. There wasn’t another building in the visible distance and there was certain serenity in the air.

A large, hand carved wooden sign read “Vermont Valley Lodge: Your Fantasy Destination”.

Jerry walked up the cobblestone walkway, towards the entrance of the hotel.

“Checking in?” the receptionist asked.

“Yes, I have a reservation under Schrader. Jerry Schrader,” Jerry replied as he placed his luggage down next to him.

The receptionist began to scroll through his computer.

“Schrader… Schrader… Ah yes, I see you here. A Mr. Bernard Brooks reserved your room.”

“That’s right. He’s my boss,” Jerry said.

“Excellent.”

The receptionist continued reading whatever was on his screen. He smirked.

“I have you staying in a very special suite, Mr. Schrader.”

“Great. I hope there’s a good bed in there. I can’t wait to get some sleep.”

“There’s a good bed in there, but I don’t think you’ll get too much sleep,” the receptionist said, smirking.

Jerry looked at the man for a moment.

“Why is that?” Jerry asked suspiciously.

The receptionist was silent for a moment while he looked down at his screen.

“Well, there’s just so much to do here in Vermont. You wouldn’t want to miss out on any of the fun!”

Jerry smiled, unimpressed by the quirky receptionist.

“You need to sign this,” the receptionist said, sliding a piece of paper forward.

Jerry quickly signed the form and passed it back, without reading any of the terms.

“If I could have my key, I’m very tired.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Schrader. I hope that you… Enjoy your very special vacation.”

The receptionist handed Jerry the room key.

“I’m here on work, but thank you.”

“Two floors up, second door on your right.”

Jerry took the key and turned towards the stairway.

“Thank you,” Jerry said as he walked away from the strange receptionist.

Jerry’s room was beautiful. It had large picture windows, which overlooked the serene Vermont countryside. The living room was separate from the bedroom, which was uncommon with the places Jerry was usually put up. He was used to cheap hotel rooms, with a bed, a mini-fridge and a television. This was seriously luxury.

Jerry stood at the window and looked out into the golden treetops. It was too bad that Kerri couldn’t be there, he thought to himself.

~

“How are you feeling after your operation?” one of the reports asked Denise Richards, previously known as Daniel Richards.

“Did it hurt?” another reporter asked.

“When do you plan to return to work?”

“Do you think you’ll be treated differently as a woman in the office?”

“I will be happy to answer questions one at a time,” Denise said.

Jerry stood at the front of a massive crowd of reporters who had been staked out for hours, waiting to see Denise for an interview. She was by no means an attractive woman. She wasn’t what you might call “passable”. If anything, she just looked like a fat cross dresser with cleavage. Jerry couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the sight of her.

Everyone in the crowd raised their hand, Jerry included.

“Yes, you,” Denise said to one of the female reporters.

“Do you think you’ll get more votes now as a woman, from the female voters? Or do you think you’ll get fewer, minus the anti-transgender community?”

“I hope that my operation doesn’t affect anyone’s vote. My intentions with this operation were purely personal. Next question—You,” she replied. Her voice wasn’t much higher than it was before.

“Have you prepared yourself for any gender inequality in the workplace? If so, how do you plan to deal with it?” another reporter asked.

Jerry scribbled down all the questions and answers as fast as could.

“Like I said, I don’t expect this to change anyone’s views, voters, or my fellow co-workers. Gender is a personal choice. It has nothing to do with work.”

Jerry snickered at the comment. A choice, he thought. Rich.

“Yes, you,” Denise said to Jerry.

“Your political platform is very pro-religion. What are your thoughts on the backlash from religious groups your party has received since you’ve announced you were undergoing this operation?” Jerry asked.

Denise looked Jerry in the eye for a moment.

“No comment,” she said.

The crowd erupted into questions, which were inaudible over one another.

“People, please,” Denise said, silencing the crowd.

She looked around the crowd of raised hands for the next question, and then looked again at Jerry.

“You look familiar,” she said to Jerry.

“Excuse me?” Jerry replied.

“What’s your name?”

“Jerry Schrader. New York Press.”

Her eyes lit up like the sun, realizing who Jerry was. An angered look crossed her face.

“A marriage should be between a man and a woman,” she said, quoting Jerry’s apparently infamous article.

Jerry gulped as the entire crowd turned towards him. He looked around the silent mass.

“Gender’s not a choice,” Jerry said.

“Excuse me?” Denise replied.

“You said that gender is a personal choice. It’s not a choice. You have millions of dollars. For you it’s a choice. For everyone else in the world, its not a choice.”

The crowd somehow became even more silent.

“Not a choice…” Jerry finished, silently.

“There will be no more questions. Thank you,” Denise said as she pushed her fat body past Jerry and away from the crowd.

After a moment of rabble, all of the angry reporters turned to Jerry, who stood silent.

~

Jerry returned to his hotel room defeated. He barely had any information to work off of for his article, and he was about to be the point of interest of everyone else’s articles. He pulled his phone out to call Kerri.

“No Service.”

Wonderful.

He walked out of his room and down to the lobby.

“Excuse me, what’s the number to dial out?”

“Oh, I’m afraid you can only dial emergency services outside of the hotel,” the receptionist said.

“Seriously?” Jerry asked, in disbelief.

“Yes. If you have a cell, you can get reception about a mile down the road.”

“A mile?” Jerry asked.

“I’m very sorry, sir.”

Jerry sighed, and began his mile-long hike down the road as the sun began to set over the golden horizon.

“C’mon, Kerri. Pick up,” Jerry said, holding the phone to his ear, finally in reception zone.

Jerry stood frustrated, having just walked a mile and his wife was probably asleep in New York.

He rang her again.

But Kerri still didn’t pick up.

Jerry began his long hike back to the hotel. The sun was no longer anywhere to be seen and his walk was lit by a fortunate spill of moonlight.

As he entered into the hotel, he noticed it was empty. The receptionist was gone and everything was eerily quiet. The lights had been dimmed to a minimum and they had shut off the lobby music.

Jerry made his way back up into his room. He threw his coat over the chair by the door and flicked on the light. Tired, he walked into his bedroom and began removing his shirt. He tossed his top down onto the bed, revealing his chilled chest and thick hard abs, sweaty from his long walk in the warm autumn sunset.