As a man I had been a failure. Weak, ineffectual, prone to mistakes, and timid, I had never inspired much confidence, even in myself. But things had changed. No longer CPT Steve Rodman, but now CPT Stephanie Rhoads, I was a whole new person. I revelled in my new, feminine self. I always wore skirts and heels, and careful tasteful makeup, enjoying the simple pleasures of a new shade of lipstick, a new hairstyle, or some new lingerie. My coaches, LTC Karen Wentworth, and MAJ Sandra Johnson, helped me along with advice and careful alteration of my records... it pays to work in personnel management sometimes!

I was living as a woman. I remember my thrill when I scored a perfect 300 max. on the Army physical fitness test, hard for a woman, but easy for a man, even one who had had difficulty scoring the minimum on the more strenuous male version of the test. I delighted in the looks I got when I walked past groups of male soldiers in my snug green Army skirt and 3" heel pumps, my ass wiggling and my thighs swishing deliciously in their nylon stockings. In the mornings, during physical training, I would get whistles and shouts when, wearing my tight gray Army PT shorts and T-shirt, I jogged past formations of male soldiers. I was in heaven.

My happiness was reflected in my work which improved 300%. LTC Wentworth was most appreciative, writing me a series of glowing evaluations, and even presenting me with the prestigious Meritorious Service Medal. She repaid my loyalty by pulling more of her many strings to get me some discreet, off the books surgical modifications... the complete sex change was going to take a little while, but hormones, electrolysis, liposuction, breast implants, and voice alteration were all accomplished, quietly, over a period of about a year and a half. I was tuning, even more so than the demure virgin who had so satisfied the distinguished COL. Tom Zelick last year. My 5'8", short for a man, was delightfully tall for a woman. My slender build, screaming "Sissy" before, was now svelte and attractive. My hair had grown out and was a neat, shoulder length bob of wavy blonde. My breasts, with implant and hormonal assistance, had swelled to an eye-catching 36D. And my voice was a soft, whispery Marilyn-Monroe clone. It was this beautiful woman who received the promotion to Major that the wimpy and forgotten CPT. Rodman would never have received.

LTC Wentworth took me to dinner the night after my promotion. After congratulating me, she told me something that worried me... she was being transferred! How was I to survive without my mentor and protector? But she soothed my fears. She had obtained for me a coveted seat in the prestigious Command and General Staff College, school for rising Majors and Lt. Colonels! I was astonished, grateful, and terrified all at the same time. How was I to survive? I would surely be discovered once out of LTC Wentworth's protective nest. But she had planned ahead. Once at the school, I was to contact a LTC Jake Nicholas who would act as my new protector. it seemed that LTC Wentworth and he went way back, and he could be relied on. Or, at least, I certainly hoped so.

And so, off I went. Upon my arrival, I dressed in a neatly pressed Army green dress uniform, with my ribbons, rank, and name neatly pinned to the blouse. My skirt was just a little more snug than the regulations called for, courtesy of some careful tailoring... but it showed off my legs and ass very well indeed! I wore black dress pumps with 3 1/2" heels, the maximum allowed. My stockings were nylon, skin shade. My makeup was careful and understated. My earrings were simple posts. My hair was careful styled, brushed back to frame my soft, feminine face. Beneath it all, I wore a tight corselette which nipped my waist down to 24", and displayed my large, firm new breasts beautifully. I felt very confident and beautiful as I knocked on LTC Nicholas' office door. "Come in", boomed an authoritative male voice in a commanding tone.

I opened the door, marched in (actually I sort of wiggled what with the tight skirt and heels), and came to attention in front of the desk and saluted. "MAJ Rhoads reports, Sir!" I stated firmly in my little-girl voice. I noticed Airborne Ranger paraphernalia on the walls and a family photo of a dumpy-looking woman and three chubby kids on the credenza.

"Well, so you're Karen Wentworth's little girl," said LTC Nicholas from behind the desk. "Have a seat, Major." I sat, primly, my hands in my lap. My tight skirt rode up a little, exposing smooth thigh. He was a large, muscular man, about 35, with a short ranger-style haircut called a "high and tight". He got up, and walked around the desk.

"Mmmmm, not bad", he said as he walked around me, hands behind his back, studying me. "You're even better than I expected!" He walked up behind me chair and put his large hands on my narrow, soft shoulders, and leaned down to put his mouth next to my ear. "You know, baby, I think we're gonna have a lot of fun over the next few months... Karen said you'd need a little extra instruction, and from what I see already, I bet you're ready to start now! Now don't you worry you're pretty little head, I'll take good care of you, just as good as you take care of me!" With that, he walked around in front, unzipped his fly, pulled out a massive, hardening penis, and sat on the edge of the desk. "Well, let's get started!" he said with a grin.

I was frightened at his directness, but he was an attractive man, and I hadn't been with anyone since COL. Zelick, 18 months ago, so I was a little horny. So I smiled, stood, stepped forward, and kneeled in front of him. I gently took his massive, hard cock, now standing straight out, and guided it to my soft, red lips. Delicately, I began to lick and nibble at it, first at the swollen, purple head, then up and down the ribbed length of the shaft. LTC Nicholas enjoyed this, he leaned back and sighed, holding my head gently as I pleased him.

Gradually, I began to draw the cock into my mouth. He tasted salty, and just a little sweet, the seminal fluid beginning to leak from the tip. I sank my head down, engulfing the length of it, until my nose brushed his pubic hair, and the head of the cock crammed my throat. Then, up and down, up and down, up and down, slowly increasing pace as my protector groaned with pleasure. Soon he was pulling and pushing at the back of my head, controlling the pace. I let him, concentrating on maintaining suction, running my teeth lightly up and down the shaft, and caressing the head with my tongue.

Finally, he held my head in his crotch as he shuddered, his cock swelling and bursting forth it's gooey treasure deep in my throat. I swallowed, steadily and methodically, with each long, lingering spurt of warm, thick, salty semen. Not a drop was spilled to soil my uniform. I was very proud.

And this was only the beginning of nine months of hard, pounding, relentless, education. The classes were kind of tough too...