VacationLand free porn video

Here is my latest story. The usual disclainmers apply. May be archived only on free sites. Feedback is always welcome. Sarah ------------------------------------------------------ VacationLand part 1 by Sarah Miller "Maine?" queried Jeff. "You want to go to Maine on our vacation? What the hell is in Maine?" "Lots of stuff," answered Anne. "After all, they call it 'Vacationland'. There's the rocky coast, all the lobster boats, the cute New England villages, lots of stuff." "Forget it. Remember, I was stationed there for a while when I was in the Air Force, before I met you. It's cold, rainy, and the air is chock full of mosquitos and black flies. God only knows why some bureaucrat came up with that name." "OK, then, where do you want to go?" "How about Key West? Sun, sand, swaying palm trees..." "And bikinis?" "Well, there might be a few, but that's not why I want to go. It'll be great! We'll take in the tropical sights, do some snorkeling, relax on the beach." "Let me think about it. South Florida in July. You're an idiot, Jeff, but I'll think about it." Anne began clearing the dinner table, wearing a slightly smug smile. There were worse places to go in the summer, she knew, and this would fit in nicely with her plans. She'd let him stew for a couple of days before giving in. But she had a price. ******* "You want me to what!?" Jeff was sure he'd heard Anne's demands completely wrong. "You heard me. Rub the statue. Make sure you rub the crotch." Anne pressed the eight inch tall figurine back into Jeff's hands. Jeff, sighing deeply, did as he was told. The little statue was some sort of female icon from some archeological dig Anne had worked on. It was from a deep cave hidden high in the Himalayas. How she'd managed to steal it was anybody's guess. Why she did so was a question Jeff often pondered, but never got answered. He seldom got answers from Anne. Why he was rubbing this figurine in such an obscene manner was another question he couldn't get an answer to. He only knew that if he didn't, the vacation was off. The vacation he was looking forward to, the one starting day after tomorrow, would be taken from his exhausted grasp. So he rubbed, shaking his head in perplexity as Anne gleefully watched. As he gently rubbed, he suddenly felt chilled. Anne took the statue back, as Jeff made his way back to the bedroom to take a nap. He was very tired, and couldn't figure out why. It had been an especially tough week, but he'd felt fine a few minutes ago. Another unanswered question. ******* The sun crept shamelessly through the window, casting shadows as its brightness relentlessly approached Jeff's face. Snorting gently, he pulled a pillow over his eyes to shield himself from this unwelcome intruder. He ended up with a mouthful of Anne's hair. But that wasn't right. He dimly realized that he was alone in the bed. Who's hair was it? The realization that it was his startled him into wakefulness. As he sat up, two out of control breasts banging together caused another unaccustomed sensation. His head was spinning as he made another, more important, discovery. His male genitalia had been spirited away as he slept. He was mortified, frozen in shock, thoughts tumbling about randomly. "Well, look who's finally awake." Anne's greeting startled him, but did not grant him the coherence to actually speak. He merely stared at her, not understanding why she was not surprised to see a strange woman in their bed. "Come on, get up. We have a lot to do today, and I'll explain things while you eat breakfast." Anne handed Jeff a robe, which he gratefully wrapped around himself as he shuffled along behind her. Breasts bouncing around and a slightly lower center of gravity caused Jeff some difficulty in walking, but they finally arrived in the kitchen. Jeff sat, still in shock. Anne placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. "Eat," she demanded. When he started to comply, she continued. "I'm sure you're a bit shocked at your transformation. As you might imagine, it was that little statue that did you in. You know where I found it. I accidently found what it could do while we were still in Nepal. So I had to keep it. And now you know that your change is temporary. The statue is now male, so when I let you change back you'll just rub the little guy's penis. "Now, Jeff, here's the reason. I wanted to go somewhere nice and cozy and romantic on our vacation. You wanted to go ogle women in tiny bikinis. Can't have that, can we? We're still going to Key West, but you're going as my girlfriend. I've made all the arrangements. It'll be fun.." Jeff slowly regained enough composure to answer. "I can't believe you did this! I can't even believe it worked. I feel really weird." His hands felt his smooth cheeks as he stared at his moderately sized breasts. Of course, to him they seemed enormous. But they were actually only a B cup. "Come on, finish up," Anne demanded. We have an appointment with my friend at the DMV for your driver's license, and more shopping to do." With that, Anne led her silent husband back to the bedroom. They started with the basics. Jeff pulled up a pair of plain cotton panties, and struggled valiantly to get a bra on. Once that was successful, Anne handed him a dress. When he balked, she explained that she didn't know exactly what size he'd turn out to be, and this would do until they could go shopping. Luckily, the dress fit reasonably well. Jeff brushed his hair, then Anne helped him tie it into a ponytail. A pair of flat sandals polished off the ensemble. Nothing too sexy or exciting, Anne really didn't want to scare him off. She was beginning to look forward to the trip. Jeff actually looked pretty good. He turned out to be a strawberry blonde, five foot four, with hazel eyes and a moderately fair complexion. Without a little care, he would burn to a crisp in the subtropical sun of Key West. With a dash of makeup applied, they walked out to the car. Jeff immediately went for the driver's side, before Anne pulled him up short. "Remember, kiddo, you don't have a license for that body. But that's exactly where we're headed!" "Oh God," Jeff groaned. "Why me? What'd I do to deserve this?" Startled at the first words he'd uttered all morning, she answered simply. "Hey, it's not punishment. This is really going to be fun! Just go with it." Jeff rode in silence all the way to the DMV, and silently trailed Anne into the building. She waved to a short brunette lounging behind the counter. This little brunette, defying all rules pertaining to DMV employees, came bounding energetically out from behind the counter and greeted Anne like a long lost relative. Paperwork changed hands, and Jeff was led in front of a camera. Half an hour later Janet Poole walked out as an official human being. Anne drove to the mall. The first order of business was shoes. Jeff needed some good walking shoes, as well as some heels. The next stop was a department store, where they picked up some sun dresses (South Florida was _hot_ in July), some shorts, some tops, and two pair of slacks. Jeff wondered when the hell he would ever wear this many articles of clothing. Anne told him to shut up and shop. A woman needs lots of clothes. After a stop for a late lunch, they headed into a Victoria's Secret, much to Jeff's dismay. He never found out what this secret really was, but he walked out with a large load of lingerie. More stops added some makeup and some nightgowns to the load. Struggling under the combined weight of $2000 worth of clothes, they finally made it back to their car. Jeff had simply given up. His moderately priced junket to an off season destination had turned into a hugely expensive shopping spree for stuff he'd use for exactly one week. Anne whipped up a quick dinner, and they crammed all of this into a suitcase or two. Finally relaxing on the patio and sipping a glass of white wine, Anne critiqued his performance through the day. She noted that he got some strange looks. While no one would mistake that body for a man's, his gestures, posture, and gait were all too masculine. She taught him how to walk a bit more gracefully, but feared it would take all week before the odd looks would stop. ******** "I am NOT wearing a dress on the plane," stated Jeff with some finality. "You have to. You should dress up when you travel." "No. For one thing, I'm not used to keeping my legs closed, and a plane is not the place to learn how. For another thing, you know as well as I do that nobody dresses up any more. I'll wear shorts, but that's as far is I'll go." "Fine," Anne huffed sullenly. No sense pushing too far yet. She still had some surprises up her sleeve, and had all week to use them. Leaving their car in the long-term lot, they struggles with the luggage. Anne was used to Jeff carrying all the heavy stuff when they traveled together, but he was not stronger than her now. It presented a dilemma solved only through a lot of sweat. They finally managed to get their bags to the counter, where they checked in and headed to the gate. Jeff did manage to get a bit more swing into his hips as he walked, but an airport concourse is not the ideal place to solicit admiring glances. Jeff was not used to carrying a purse, and felt awkward doing so. They made it to the gate, where Jeff decided he needed to use the restroom. He almost wandered into the men's room. He pulled up just in time, with his mistake covered neatly by a jostling crowd of Indonesian tourists pushing past him. He strolled a few feet until he found the women's restroom. He was dismayed at having to wait in a long line to use a smelly stall. This was not at all what Anne had promised. Eventually he made it back to the gate, where they remained seated until called for boarding. Amazingly enough, Anne had managed to get good seats, near the front. The boarding process went smoothly, and the aircraft left the gate a mere 72 minutes late. This was highly fortuitous, since their connecting flight to Miami was 85 minutes late. They did not have to wait too long at the gate in Atlanta, and did not have to sit next to a Cuban refugee on the flight down. All in all, a good trip. They eventually landed in Miami, after circling some thunderstorms for a while. Their luggage made it intact, their car rental reservation wasn't lost, and they were soon on their way to glorious Miami, where they planned to spend their first night. Jeff just wanted to get out of public view, as the Miami airport had seemed full of lecherous Scandinavian tourists, some of whom had their own hair. When they opened the door of their room, he was greatly relieved, even if it was a Holiday Inn. His second day as a woman had gone far worse than the first. They ordered a pizza and then went to bed. Luckily it was a twin bed room. ******** Jeff woke suddenly and violently, startled by a very loud boom. He jumped up and ran to the window, breasts swinging wildly under his gown. He held them still with one hand as he peeked out the window. It was still pitch black outside, or it was until the entire area was awash in flashing blue and red light. While the explosion had been small by Miami standards, it had shaken up a number of stalwart Midwestern tourists, who had feared an invasion by Castro's legions. As Jeff and Anne found out later that morning (via the radio in their car as they headed down U.S. 1), those intrepid travelers were not far off. The explosion had been a premature car bomb, with credit claimed by an anti-Castro group called "The last weekend in December." No one quite knew why they were called that, or why they had tried to blow up an empty strip mall next to a cheap hotel. They had been interviewed by Metro Dade detectives, none of whom looked like Don Johnson. It was after nine by the time they got through, found someplace to eat breakfast, and got on the road. "See, Jeff?" asked Anne as she dodged another '47 Plymouth running a red light. "Isn't this a great adventure?" "Oh, yeah," he answered sleepily. "We almost get blown up by Cuban terrorists. They should put that in the brochures." "Well, we're OK. And this will be something we can tell our grandkids. It's exciting. We never get to do this kind of stuff." "Sure, Anne. We'll tell 'em all about how their Grandfather got turned into a woman and almost got blown to bits. That'll keep us out of the old folks home." "Come on Jeff, lighten up. Enjoy yourself. It's a gorgeous day. Look how the water turns shades of green and blue." By now they were approaching Largo, and could catch glimpses of the Gulf of Mexico through the wall of mangroves. Traffic was light, and they were making good time. They stopped for lunch at a place called The Italian Fisherman. The view was great, the grilled snapper was even better. Jeff almost forgot his discomfort at being in this odd body out in public. He didn't even notice the attentive service the waiter gave the two attractive women. But as they sipped coffee and savored a slice of key lime pie, he did notice the lecherous stare of a rather portly, balding, 50 year old. Jeff ignored him, then stared back at him, finally extending a finger. Nothing worked. Even Anne noticed the clash. But Anne was totally unprepared for what followed. As they got up to leave, Jeff glided over to the man, swaying his hips provocatively. "Hey, big boy," Jeff cooed as he sat in the few available square inches of the tourist's lap. "I saw you staring at me. I want you too. Oh, is this your wife? Maybe we can make it a threesome?" Jeff glance inquisitively at the thin, handsome woman. Jeff almost went off the deck as the man exploded upward to keep his wife from storming off. He started to attack Jeff, then thought he ought to go after his wife, who had the car keys. Jeff sat on the floor as the waiter chased after them, waving the check. Anne and Jeff put a nice tip with their check, and left the restaurant. They could here a loud argument coming from around the corner, but wisely just got in their car and drove off. Anne was almost in tears as they pulled onto the highway and drove south. The two women made a short stop at Long Key for a walk on along the nature trail. It must be said that Jeff was doing better at this point. Wearing white shorts, a light blue shirt, and blue trimmed tennis shoes, he enjoyed the stroll through the mangrove and pines. He even consented to wearing a cute straw hat with a yellow flower in it. Both were rather disappointed in the beaches. They had pictured broad expanses of white sand and coconut palms leaning over the calm blue water. The did not expect the reality of hard coral covered in a thin layer of rather putrid colored sand. There was not a single palm to be seen. Outside of the mangrove swamps, the islands were covered by pine trees. But the water was a glistening turquoise, one of the most incredibly rich colors either had ever seen. Anne was glad she'd allowed Jeff to have his way and come here. It was approaching 5:00 when they arrived at their hotel, actually a quaint Victorian bed and breakfast near the bottom of South Street. After checking in and unloading the car, they strolled around the area. They looked in some of the shops on the Atlantic end of Duval Street, mostly killing time until dinner. They ate in a seafood place just around the corner from their room. The little Inn was right on the beach, a pleasant surprise for Jeff. As it grew dark they sat in the garden facing the water and just enjoyed the cool breeze. Jeff had never felt more relaxed. He was getting used to the weight on his chest, and not having the usual protrusions between his legs. He had to admit to himself that he was actually enjoying this. ******* To Jeff, it seemed like the crack of dawn. He awoke with sunlight streaming through the French Doors to the garden. Anne had pulled the curtains, and he could hear her in the shower. Looking at the alarm clock, he discovered that it was only 8:00, far too early to get up and do anything. But as he lay there, hunger started to gnaw at his insides, and he threw on some clothes as Anne came out of the bathroom. They went out to the courtyard and enjoyed the continental breakfast the inn had provided. Jeff was glad to see he was not the only one who looked like they'd just woke up. And the worst offenders were women. This went against everything Jeff thought he knew about this strange sex. Viva la vacation. Jeff got himself made up, and brushed his hair and teeth. It was still early as they took off up Duval. Most of the shops were not yet open, until they'd gotten about halfway through the mile and a half walk. Although every other shop sold nothing but t-shirts, they still managed to find enough to keep interested. When they got to the end of the street, they found themselves at the departure point for the Conch Train, a one and a half hour tour. Jeff was getting into being a tourist, and insisted on taking this silly looking thing. In spite of herself, Anne also found the tour worthwhile. They stayed around that side of the island through the afternoon, seeing some of the museums and doing more shopping. Jeff was attracting as many admiring looks as Anne, and through the day became less and less annoyed by them. By early evening, he wasn't getting as many, and that annoyed him. He was only annoyed until he realized that they were standing in front of a theater with a drag queen show going on. With that clientele he could understand it. Then he realized he should be annoyed by getting the looks, not by being ignored. He was very confused. They ate an early dinner and went to Mallory Pier to watch the sunset and street entertainers. A long walk brought them back to their room, exhausted and hot. They rested in the courtyard again, enjoying the fading light and cool breeze. ********* Once again they woke up bright and early, had breakfast overlooking the beach, and headed out for a morning on the town. They visited Hemingway's house as well as a few other interesting places, had lunch, and headed back to the room. That's where Anne sprung her next surprise. As Jeff emerged from the bathroom after freshening up, Ann handed him some small scraps of cloth and told him to get ready. They were going out on the beach. After all, it was only 30 feet away. Jeff held up the two pieces of cloth and deduced that they were supposed to be a bikini. "No! There's no way I'm wearing this outside. Hell, not even inside." "Yes, you are. If you ever want to change back, you _will_ experience the wearing of a bikini. After all, bikinis are the reason you wanted to come here." The last bit was cruel, and only partially true, Anne knew. This place had much more to offer than girls in tiny swimsuits, even for a man. But that was at least a partial motivation, and she wanted him to realize what it was like on the other end. The threat was effective. Jeff stripped and somehow attached the scraps of brilliant pink to his body. There was little left to the imagination. Smiling, Anne handed him a coverup and got into her own suit. They gathered towels and headed out the door. South beach is not a large beach, nor a particularly good one. But the sand was white, there were a few palms, and it was not crowded. They staked out an area in the shade of a palm, and Jeff headed out to the ocean. Oblivious to the looks he was getting from male and female alike, he walked out until the water was knee deep. It took him longer than he thought it would. The water was very shallow. It was also quite warm, and Jeff lowered himself into it. He floated on his back, breasts pointing skyward. He gently paddled his way further out from the beach. He eventually rolled over, trying to peer through the crystal clear water. He found he couldn't see very well with the reflection from the surface, but the salt water stung his eyes when he tried to open them under water. He slowly swam back, finally standing up and walking over to Anne, who handed him a towel. "Anne, the water's great! Tomorrow, let's go snorkeling." "Sure, why not. Getting used to the exposure?" "Not really. But nobody's looking at me any more." Jeff nodded in the direction of a couple of women a few yards away. Both seemed to be unaware of the American custom of wearing tops. It bothered Jeff a little that he wasn't excited by the view. This body must be taking over his mind, he thought with a sigh. Anne went for a swim while Jeff sat with his back to the tree reading. It was an old Robert Parker "Spenser" mystery, and he still enjoyed it even as a girl. He was only interrupted once, by a blonde preppy looking jerk wearing speedos. He left only after Jeff threatened to stuff his balls down his throat, pulling a pair of scissors from the beach bag to back up the threat. Anne watched the entire episode from the shallows with a hint of amusement. Jeff was coming along nicely. He was truly learning what it was like for a young woman, and seemed to be able to handle himself. But the envelope needed to be pushed just a bit further. When Anne returned, they packed up and went back to get cleaned up for tea. Jeff climbed into the shower to wash the salt water off, and was startled as Anne joined him. They began lathering each other, and soon were fondling various body parts. "Is this why you did this to me?" asked Jeff suddenly. "Are you a lesbian?" "No, Jeff. I've never done this sort of thing with another woman, but then you're not really another woman. You're my husband. You've just seemed so reserved. That body ought to have some fun. I just thought it would be interesting for you to feel something sexual." Jeff was silent after that, lost in thought. But Anne did not quit, and Jeff was soon in the throes of a mild orgasm as Anne continued to work with her fingers. They finally rinsed off, dried themselves, and got dressed. Anne talked Jeff into finally wearing one of the cute sundresses they'd bought a few days ago. They joined the other guests in the courtyard for tea, then headed once again for Duval Street. This time they rode in one of the bicycle taxis that plied the street, and were not exhausted when they reached Mallory Pier. They walked back and did some more shopping, but did not miss the sunset. It was spectacular as usual. They joined the throng of tourists heading back to the bars and restaurants. They decided to try a brewpub called Hammerhead's. The food was very good, the beer excellent. They finished dinner and left, eventually finding their way to a club. As the evening progressed, so did Jeff's alcohol level. By the time the pair were approached by a couple of guys who appeared to be grad students at one of Vermont's better known Universities, Jeff was not entirely resistant to their attentions. "Hey, ladies" the large blonde with the beard asked. "What's shakin'?" "Yeah," said the large blonde without the beard. Anne buried her face in her hands, while Jeff merely stared dumbfounded at these two specimens of studliness. "Please go away," Jeff told them, " before I vomit all over your shoes." "Come on, babe," said the beard. "Let's cut it loose." "Huh?" "Dance, honey, dance. Let's go." "I said go away." With that Jeff leaned over and released his recently ingested dinner on two pair of white tasseled loafers. He straightened up, looking at the two rather large men with a crooked grin. "Sorry Charlie, but I did tell you." Jeff and Anne departed for the ladies' room, ignoring the commotion behind them as several dancers gagged on the stench as the two gentlemen tried to follow. The last Anne saw of them was their backs as they were escorted out. They got Jeff cleaned up, and quietly found another table on the other side of the club. But it wasn't long before another pair of predators descended. At least these two had an original and coherent pickup line. There was no arrogant attitude. In fact, they seemed downright nice, and the foursome hit it off nicely. They spent a lot of time on the dance floor, and Jeff's partner seemed to be getting especially close to Jeff. Finally, and perhaps with a touch of jealousy, Anne wanted to call it a night. Jeff wanted to dance some more. He was having a grand old time. Since this was Anne's doing, she let him stay. She'd already seen that he could handle himself, so she left, just telling him not to be too late. So Jeff and Arnie danced some more. The music got slower, so they danced slower, and closer together. And finally, the kiss came. Jeff was completely caught up in things, and too drunk to care. They left for Arnie's apartment. ********** The morning came horribly soon for Jeff. He awoke with a splitting headache, a foul taste in his mouth, and the realization that he'd willingly had sex with Arnie. Worse, he'd enjoyed it. The mouth sucking on his breasts, the tongue tickling his nipples, the pounding pleasure he'd felt as Arnie plunged in and out. It was just too much for a man to take this early in the morning. He broke down and cried. "Good morning, sleepyhead," cooed Anne. "How was your date?" "Date? Is that what that was? God, my head hurts." "Well, you shouldn't have drunk so much. Remember, we're going snorkeling this afternoon," Anne replied while handing him some aspirin. "You got in kind of late." "I know. Please don't start a fight. I can't take it. I'm sorry. You're the one who turned me into this, so you're as much to blame as me." "No fight, just a comment. And a question. Did you go home with that guy?" Jeff thought hard before answering, finally deciding honesty was the only way out. "Yes," he said flatly. "Did you enjoy it?" Jeff looked hard at Anne. He detected some humor in her tone, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile. She thought it was funny. That annoyed him. "Do you consider that cheating?" he answered. "No. If you had gone out with another woman, that would be cheating. This? I'm not sure what to call it. I suppose I got you into this situation, but I thought you could control yourself. You didn't answer my question, though." "I hate myself. Yes, I enjoyed it. I'm ashamed to say it, but I did. I should be repulsed. Now I'm sober, my head hurts, and I am totally disgusted with myself for liking sex with a man." "Well, that body wants it's way. We'll just have to be more careful. Wouldn't want you getting pregnant!" Jeff went cold at that statement. What if he was? What if he'd caught some hideous disease? He'd been really stupid, and now could only pray that things turned out OK. These thoughts jumbled around in his head as he climbed into the shower. Ten minutes later he was feeling much more chipper as he gulped down a glass of orange juice Anne had saved for him. He'd missed breakfast, but they could stop at a cafe on the way to the boat. Wearing the tiny bikini underneath shorts and a yank top, Jeff led the way out the door. Several hours later Jeff found himself four miles out into the ocean floating face down. It presented a delightful picture to the men who were still aboard the boat. The flotation vest did a better job than the bikini top in covering his recently acquired assets, but the bottom left little to the imagination as Jeff paddled in aimless circles watching the denizens of the reef. He was enthralled with this, and vowed he would return someday as a certified scuba diver. Even with the vest deflated, he could not get himself very deep for a good view. Between his natural flotation and the residual air in the vest, he maintained a stubborn positive buoyancy. Exhausted from the strenuous swim and the lack of sleep, Jeff slept all the way back to the pier. It wasn't until much later that the rather powerful sunburn painfully manifested itself. It forced Jeff to sleep on his stomach, a position he found awkward due to his breasts. *********** In spite of the massive amounts of lotion absorbed by Jeff's back and legs, the burn was still painful when they awoke at 4:00. They had paid up the night before, so they only had to pack the car and head out into the quiet, still tropical morning air. Backlit columns of cumulus clouds began to show over the Atlantic as they passed over the seven mile bridge. The sun crept over the horizon as they stopped for breakfast in Marathon. Jeff painfully extracted himself from the car. He'd worn slacks to protect the legs, but the cloth chafed the burns anyway. His skin seemed to be more tender than his male skin. Anne helped him slather on more lotion in the ladies' room. They arrived at Miami International with plenty of time to spare for their early afternoon flight. They fought the crowds to get to the ticket counter. Jeff had his picture taken by 52 Japanese tourists sporting the very latest Nikons. None of them, of course, spoke a word of English. They must have found it interesting that his skin was almost the same color as his reddish hair. Jeff wondered if they'd have done the same if he'd been wearing his male body. Hard to tell with those guys. Anne and Jeff were unable to make their way through the throngs, so they merely followed a tour group leader holding a cardboard sign reading "Farley Rest Home Tour Group." They progressed at a stately pace, until they finally passed their gate. Both were asleep before the wheels thumped into their resting place. This caused them to miss a nutritious meal of pretzels and peanuts. ******* Jeff was still having trouble lugging his luggage. His new improved frame did not have the same strength as the original. Cussing and sweating, they hauled everything back to the long- term lot. It was hotter here than it was in South Florida. As he opened the car door, he felt a blast of air that could have melted steel. He was surprised that the plastic interior hadn't melted. They were almost home when the interior temperature passed through 90 degrees. But as they turned the corner onto their street, the saw that not everything was well with the world. The house was wrapped in yellow crime scene tape, and one corner of the house was collapsed into a pile of rubble. They pulled into the driveway, and in spite of the 103 degree heat, ran to the door. There was a note taped there. It read: "Car wreck caused this. Please come to the police station for more details." It was dated the day before, and signed by a chicken (at least that's the way it appeared). They both stood there in shock. Jeff's reappearance would be delayed until they found the statue and found a place to stay. The pile of rubble was centered on their bedroom. Fearing the worst, Anne, went inside, and headed straight to the bedroom area. Pieces of brick and wood lay scattered through the room. On one wall stood a scarred and battered dresser. Beside it lay three pieces of fired clay statuary. A miniature penis protruded from one of the pieces. Anne gathered them up and returned to the living room. Jeff saw the shattered statue and turned ashen gray. "Oh my God! Does it still work?" asked Jeff frantically. "I don't know. We'll have to try it later. Let's get going to the police. And we'll have to call Wayne about the insurance." They shuffled back to the car and drove to the police station. The mess was caused by a drunk driver running a stop sign and plowing into another car. This car spun into the house. Anne and Jeff both vowed to be at this idiot's trial. After calling the insurance company, they found a motel. After a quick dinner of pizza and margaritas, Jeff got out the pieces of the statue. He taped them together with duct tape, and began furiously rubbing the little guy's features. He felt not even a tingle or hint of dizziness as he had when getting into this body. The next morning Jeff awoke still wearing boobs. Just in case the tape had interfered with things, Anne went and got some epoxy, and they glued the statue back together. Once again, Jeff spent several hours in a rubbing frenzy. The magic was gone. ******* "It's just your period Janet," stated Anne with some frustration. "You are _not_ going to die. Look, this is a good sign. At least that little episode in Key West didn't get you pregnant." "This is not a good sign," Jeff retorted. "It means I'm really a woman. It means I'm stuck like this for the rest of my life. I _want_ to die." "No you don't. You'll get over it. It's not the end of the world. I think you're just cranky right now. Hormones will sometimes do that. Just try to chill out. After all, womanhood does have it's good points." "Yeah, right. I get to bleed my guts out every four weeks and become a second class citizen. That's attractive." "You are not a second class citizen. In spite of what men think, women hold a great deal of power. Maybe it will be a few more years before a woman becomes President, but on a more personal level, you can use sex to get what you want." "You want me to become a whore?" "No. I didn't mean the actual act, just show some leg and men drool. That sort of thing. You've really got a lot to learn." "We'll start class later. I've got something to take care of first." "You gonna take care of the drunk?" "Yes." "Wait. I've got just the guy to help. He's a bisexual colleague who's been hitting on me for several years. I've got a plan." ****** "And in Parkersville," the news anchorwoman intoned solemnly, "A bizarre mystery has police baffled. Hedly Jackson, the mayor up until the last election, was found semi-conscious outside his home this morning. He was trussed up and tied to his front porch, with a ten inch long sex toy jammed down his throat and secured with duct tape. He had been repeatedly raped. He could only describe his attacker as a large blonde male assisted by two hooded females. The description of the male resembles a Mr. Jeff Poole, whose house was destroyed when His Honor the ex-mayor sent a car flying into it. Mr. Jackson had just been released from the county jail after his arrest for DUI in this incident. Police are seeking Mr. Poole, who hasn't been seen since the accident. His wife and his sister say they hope he sees this and turns himself in. They say he has just not been himself since the house was destroyed, and needs help. "In other news...." ******** The End