Clint nursed his whiskey for a while, listening carefully he heard to door upstairs creak open. A stockinged leg came out first, followed by Joan in a basque, which pushes up her already massive breasts keeping them on display. A cheap jeweled necklace hung around her neck, and a feather fascinator decorated her impressive hair-do.
As she came down the stairs every step set her cleavage bouncing attractively, the basque accentuated the movement in her hips as they swayed seductively. She smiled uncertainly as she looked at Clint. When he grinned back his approval, her smile widened and brightened her whole face.
Clint realised that Joan was now changing mentally, needing approval from a man, and maybe even guidance. The thought made him smile. That vanished quite rapidly when he realised that he must be changing mentally too. His approval of Joan's very feminine state seemed genuine to him.
When she finished strutting across the floor and reached Clint, she hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. It was then that he noticed the make-up on her face. The two whores leaned against the balcony and smiled at their achievement.
Clint crooked his arm, and Joan took the hint holding tightly as they headed out the saloon.
There was a brief flicker of worry on Joan's face, "What's a manly task?" she asked her voice almost a whisper at her audacity.
Clint clapped her hand gently, "I asked the barmaid, for you and she explained the sort of things you could do to regain your manhood. That is if you want to."
Clint tacked the last bit on, in case he could keep this delectable flower of female virtue.
"I wish we had a couple of horses to ride." Clint muttered under his breath.
At that moment, the saloon stable hand brought their horses around. One had a sidesaddle designed for a woman.
"Oh you're so masterful." she cooed.
Clint enjoyed the comment, more than all the petty nagging she had done as a whiny man.
