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Mason, Maggie Mason. My ma’s boss at Maggie’s Hair Salon. I had known her for years when I would stop in on my way home from school or Saturday afternoon double feature at the movie house. Mrs. Mason was at least ten years older, taller and heavier than my ma. Maggie spotted me first and whispered to ma. “Honey, we weren’t expecting you home so soon after you left! I guess it is time that you knew. Maggie and I have been lovers for years, ever since I went to work for her.” Maggie was smiling broadly as she gazed at my now developing body. She sat up on the edge of the bed. I was ogling her nakedness. She had much larger tits with large hardened nipples and bushier pubic hair. She did not try to hide anything. She was also was licking her lips as she eyed my crotch where I had a giant erection from the sight of two naked women having sex together. Ma was saying, “The café next door had a kitchen fire!” The building with the café and salon was only separated by a common wall. The. I didn't know much about spirituality, but my mom's spirit blazed like holy light. I knew the moment I took her hand she would suddenly become my best friend. I was afraid."Suit yourself." She turned and bent to collect the tools. "I'll fasten the blades to the motor, tomorrow, while you're at school. These look fine." She slid one sanded length along her palm like she was testing a knife for sharpness.Behind her, I finally lifted my ass off the floor and shook off the dust. I thought everything was back to normal, until she straightened and turned around.I'm sure you had to be there, but for the first time in my life I noticed the clothes she was wearing. I guess in my mind she was always the drill sergeant, or the handyman, or a dozen other male roles I had hung around her neck. She was wearing a dress. It wasn't very blousey, but it said more about her hips than her shoulders. Her breasts never did stand out, but there she was, visibly female.I wasn't about to admit to myself why.
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A routine was established.She would lead me to the gym each morning, check on me multiple times throughout the day, criticizing if I was doing something wrong, she would feed me the same stale bologna sandwich and glass of water at noon, and she would release me at five o'clock each afternoon. She did not converse with me otherwise. She offered me no inspiring lectures on the grace of God or the value of a hard day's work, or anything else.I had developed no firm opinions of her during this period. She was simply a woman dressed in a penguin suit who had power over me. Her face was always neutral. I could tell that she had reddish hair from the stray locks that protruded from her habit but other observations were hidden from me. I could not determine, for instance, what her body was shaped like, the habit was too bulky. I knew she wasn't fat or terribly skinny, but beyond that I was clueless. My only view of anything other than her face had been a brief glimpse of her left ankle that.

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