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BY THE BOOK By Geneva In the late fifties I was twentyone, and just graduated from college. I'd been slow in getting a job lined up, and as I really wanted a break anyway, I went back to visit my sister Ellen in the family home. Ellen was the only one at home. Our father had been killed nine years previously in Korea, and our mother had died of cancer when I was still a freshman at college. Mom and Dad hadn't been rich, but Dad's parents had left us with some money in their will. I had used my portion to support me while getting a business degree at the state college, but Ellen had decided not to go to college after high school. Instead, she had kept on with the bookstore that Mom had started. Mom had left the business to both of us, but I hadn't see my future in my home town at that time, and I sold my share to Ellen to help pay my way through college. When I returned home, I soon discovered most of my closest pre-college buddies were no longer around the area. Feeling a bit bored, and as Ellen found the bookstore was keeping her really busy, I started helping her out while I was waiting for replies to some job applications I had sent out. I had always fancied myself as a potential executive type in some big corporation, but I soon discovered, a bit to my surprise, that I liked working in the bookstore. We had the usual selection of current books, hardcover and paperbacks, but we also stocked a large section of second- hand and antiquarian stuff. When we were kids my relationship to Ellen had been of the typical younger brother to bossy older sister, but since Mom died she and I had become a lo tcloser. We now got on quite well together, and our interests at work dovetailed. She liked sales and interacting with the customers. I was happy enough at sales, but I didn't mind keeping track of our inventory, and doing the bookwork. What I really liked was going out to estate sales and getting old books for the antiquarian side of the business. That was how I met Fred Gymbal. Fred was a midwesterner, like me. He ran a small antique business in the Chicago area. We pretended a kind of rivalry, but we really specialized in different areas, he in furniture, china, and so on, me in books, and in fact we had given each other good leads. We became fairly good buddies, and when I ran across him at any sales we would usually go out for drinks and other entertainment together afterwards. I had had a rather innocent upbringing and it was Fred who had introduced me to strip clubs and even the establishment in Memphis where I lost my virginity. I suggested to Fred he drop in on us any time he was coming through our way. One Friday afternoon in early Spring I was working in the back of the bookstore when the telephone rang. Ellen picked it up first. " It's for you," she yelled. " Somebody wanting John Tully." She handed me the receiver. "John Tully here." "Hi, John! " was the answer. It was Fred. He had been at a sale in Tennessee and was driving back home on Saturday. I invited him to drop in for a visit to our store and suggested we have supper together. I made a note to get out a couple of steaks from the freezer and put some more beer in the refrigerator. It was about four on Saturday afternoon when Fred arrived at our store. I introduced him to Ellen. She was just leaving for home to get ready to meet her fiance Roy at six. I was showing Fred around the store when some last-minute customers came in. I had to leave Fred sitting in front of our old-fashioned wood stove leafing through one of our books on antiques while I saw to them, and it was about six before I was able to close up. Ellen had taken our car so we used Fred's old Dodge to get home. I fired up the barbecue for the first time that year, but the coals must have been damp and it seemed to take a while to get hot so Fred and I had downed a beer or two before the steaks were ready. When we were finished I piled up the dishes in the kitchen sink and brought out a bottle of single-malt Scotch that I had got for special occasions. We were sitting in the living room drinking and talking about business, and or conversation got around to our successes and finds. I was boasting to Fred about a set of antiquarian books I had picked up recently. "That reminds me," said Fred. "Just a minute." He grinned at me, went out to his car, and returned with his brief case. He took out a package, unwrapped a book and held it out to me. It looked really old. "Just a minute," I said. "I'll get some gloves before I handle it." "Don't bother," Fred replied. " It's really in pretty bad condition. I don't think handling it can cause it much more damage." I put on gloves anyway and examined it. The book was bound in some kind of thin leather, but it really was in terrrible condition. I opened the tattered pages. They were badly blotched with mildew and yellowed with age. "It really smells damp." "Yeah," said Fred. "It 's been badly kept. " I peered at the pages closely. I could make out some faint writing on them. "It's handwritten. It seems to have two sets of writing on it. On one side of the page I think it's German, and I think it's in a Gothic script. The page facing it is in a different writing. It's in a kind of Gothic writing too, but I don't recognize any of the words. What is it ?" " I'm having a hard time reading it too. I've only read as far as the first two or three pages, but it's supposed to be a spell book, as far as I can make out." "Spells?" "Yes, you know, magic." "Yeah, pull the other leg." Fred grinned. "The trouble with you, John, you've got no imagination." "Where did you get it ?" "It was in a hidden drawer in an antique chest. I got it at a sale in an old mansion in Baton Rouge just last week." I turned over the cracked pages. "Well, Fred, I took some some German at college, so let's see if I can read this so-called magic, you say, and see if we can find treasure, cast spells, slay dragons, save princesses..." Fred snorted, "Fat chance of finding dragons, or princesses, in your area. Now, take Chicago, we've got all sorts of princesses there, ....and queens." We both laughed. It was getting on towards ten o' clock by this time. I heard a car door shut outside, and Ellen came in the front door. "You're early." I said. "I didn't expect you until after midnight. By the way, your lipstick's mussed up." She made a face at me. "Roy is going off early tomorrow, and he still had to get packed." She gave Fred a wave." Hi, Fred, I didn't expect to see you here still." Then she nodded to the Scotch bottle. "You two having a good time?" She pointed to the old book."What have you got there?" "It's an old book Fred picked up in Louisiana. It's a book of magic spells." Ellen rolled her eyes. " Really! How much Scotch have you guys been drinking?" Fred passed the book to her. She leafed through it, handling the pages carefully. "It's pretty old. It smells pretty bad too." She wrinkled her nose. "It's been poorly kept, and it's funny writing. Magic, is it ?" She shook her head sadly at us. "Yes, of course," I said. I took it from her and began looking through the pages. "We were going to try some of the spells in it." By this time,with the Scotch I had consumed, I was feeling few inhibitions. I leafed through the book again. Something near the end caught my eye. "Here, Fred. Here's a spell. Something about a woman." I could only translate it slowly. The Gothic script was hard to read. " 'To make...' , Uh, It's a bit mildewed here. I can't read the next words." I turned the page to the light and read triumphantly, " '..a beautiful woman.' That's what we need Fred, conjure up the women of our dreams." Slowly I began to read the incantation out, carefully deciphering the faded script. " ' Nahaa etai...' That doesn't sound German at all. I wonder where that came from ?" Ellen snorted. " You two losers would be better to be out meeting real women, rather than sitting here drinking and fantasizing." I thought 'loser' was a bit extreme. I liked girls and usually did have a girl- friend although I had broken up with Jane Farrel, my most recent one. Jane and I had had some good fun together, but we'd had a fight two weeks before, and it didn't look like we would make it up. I held up my hand to quieten Ellen and began to sound the words out again. "I really think you should be careful." said Ellen warily. "What's to worry ?" I laughed. "If it works, Fred and I might get the women of our dreams. If it doesn't, it doesn't." Fred and I slowly recited the words together, reading them from the faint script. When we were finished I pretended to look around eagerly ."Well, what a swindle, no beautiful women!" I laughed."Oh , other than you, Sis." Ellen tilted her head in an exaggerated way, then made a face at me. I was now feeling slightly tipsy. Fred got up and stretched. "Well, I'm just so disappointed, but maybe I better be going, John, at least if I want to get back to Chicago tonight." "More like tomorrow morning now," I retorted. "Yeah," said Fred. "I'd better get a move on." "Just a minute," said Ellen."Let me see the book again." She picked up the book gingerly." My God, do you know what it's covered with?" We looked at her apprehensively. "It's human skin. I'm sure of it. I've seen it in some museums. They used to cut the skin off executed criminals, tan it, and use it for covering books." "Yuck!" I said . I shivered. Ellen handed the book back to Fred. He shook his head in disgust. He seemed to shiver too."Well, on that pleasant note, I'd better be on my way. I'm not sure I want the book now. Do you want it, John ?" "It's not the thing I usually carry, but sure, for a conversation piece in the store. How much? Thirty bucks okay ?" Ellen shook her head at me, but grinned. "There go this week's profits." "Okay," said Fred. "It's getting too late in the evening to haggle with you, but I'd like to keep it for a week or two, just to read it over. I'll mail it to you in a week or so." "Are you sure you don't want to stay over, Fred? You okay to drive?" "Thanks, John, but sorry, I've got a lot of work to catch up on. I haven't been drinking as much as you so I'm okay for driving. Anyway, I really should get into work tomorrow, even though it's Sunday. I've been away for a week, and owners of one man businesses, like me, can't take holidays like you guys." I saw Fred out to the car. " Let me know how many beautiful women you meet." I called out. "Maybe dragons!" he chuckled and pulled his coat collar up. I gave him a wave as he drove out of the driveway and I went back in. It seemed to be getting colder. I closed the door, and sat down in the armchair opposite Ellen. We began talking. She was annoyed. Her fiance Roy was a partner in a construction business, and was going to be away on business for the next few days in St.Louis. I shivered yet again, briefly. I thought it must be the idea of the human skin covering the book. Ellen and I began talking about the store but then I began to shiver almost continuously. "Gee," I said. "I feel really cold." Ellen raised her eyebrows. "Well, it's a cool Spring evening, but it's not that cold. Are you coming down with a flu or something?" I shrugged."I don't know, I'm going to get a sweater, or maybe I should get to bed." I rose to my feet and stumbled through to my bedroom. All at once my body was taken over by violent shaking. My teeth were chattering. I collapsed on the floor. I remembered no more. "John, are you awake?" I heard Ellen speaking my name. Her voice seemed to be coming from a long distance away. She was shaking me gently. "Uhmm." I mumbled. I had difficulty speaking. I felt her shake me again. "Yeah, Yeah, what is it ?" My voice sounded funny, more high pitched. I tried to clear my throat, but it felt rough and painful. "John, do you want a drink of water ?" "Yeah," I said groggily. I was still speaking funny. I managed to get my eyes open, blinking at the light. My mouth was dry and I had a raging thirst. My eyes felt as if they were full of grit. Ellen held a glass to my mouth and I tried to sip the water from it. I couldn't seem to move my lips properly and I had trouble drinking. Some water spilled down my neck and soaked my T-shirt, but I kept at the glass until I had drained it. "Do you want some more ?" I nodded. "Yeah. Ohh, my head hurts." I vaguely heard Ellen go into the kitchen. I was aching all over. My brow was throbbing and I raised my arm to rub it. The feeling was subtly different, smoother somehow. Something had changed. I squinted at my hand, holding it in front of my eyes. It seemed smaller. My vision was hazy. I rubbed my eyes and looked at my hand again. It still seemed smaller. Puzzled, I looked at my wrist, it seemed narrower, but smoother. My arm was also smoother, slimmer. My chest felt cold and damp where the water had spilled down my T-shirt, and I slid my hand down to rub it. Puzzled, I felt the heavy fullness of two female breasts. Fuzzily, I wondered at first if there was a woman in bed beside me, but then I realized I was feeling my own exploring hand. Desperately trying to concentrate, I slid my hand down into my shorts and found a patch of pubic hair, but - nothing else below. My penis and testicles were missing. Instead I felt the flesh only as a set of sensitive folds edging a cleft. Gasping, in growing panic, I struggled out of bed and tore off my T-shirt and shorts. I looked down. In my vision was a set of female breasts, over a slim waist, wide female hips and well formed legs. I was completely missing my male anatomy, yet all was still ridiculously supplied with a generous covering of my male pattern hair. I started screaming. My terror was made more intense by the shrill female voice I was hearing. Ellen rushed in and held me. "Ellen, what's the matter with me ? Tell me it's a trick." I was shaking uncontrollably. My voice was shrill. "John , I'm sorry. It's not. You've changed somehow. You went into a coma on Saturday and then you started changing until you got like you are now. It's now Monday. You've been unconscious about a day and a half, and you only started to wake up about an hour ago. It must have been that spell in Fred's book. Maybe it went wrong somehow, or you read it wrong." With horror I remembered the mildewed pages, the stains and the faint Gothic writing. It was certainly possible that I had read something wrong, or missed out something. I had thought I was making a new woman. Instead the spell had changed me into one. I had a sudden desperate hope. "Fred! Yes", I babbled. "Maybe I can contact him and see if there is something in the book can reverse the spell." Ellen shook her head. There were tears in her eyes. " I'm afraid not, John. There was a report on the local radio yesterday. The police found a car on the outskirts of town. It had crashed and burned on Saturday night. From the license plate they know it belonged to Fred Gymbal of Chicago, but the body, and the rest of the car's contents were almost completely incinerated. The police are looking for help, and any witnesses to the crash." "Oh God, Poor Fred! Maybe the change was affecting him too, and the alcohol didn't help." I was devastated at the news, and I sat bewildered for a minute before my mind jumped back to my own serious problems. I was thinking wildly. "I know, maybe I can go to a hospital and see if they can do anything about me." "Are you crazy?" Ellen hissed. "They would not believe you at all. Nobody believes in magic now, and you can't prove it. The book will have been destroyed in the crash and fire. They would more likely lock you up for being crazy. Even on the small chance they did believe you, they would stick you in a medical laboratory and you would spend the rest of your life as a guinea pig. And can you imagine the hoopla in the newspapers, the radio and the TV? You would never have any private life again. You'd be in every tabloid and magazine at every grocery checkout. Another thing, I'm sure the police would want to know about Fred's death. You might be implicated somehow. I think you are going to have to keep it quiet. Face it. You may have to live the rest of your life as a woman unless the spell wears off." I thought her suggestions were utterly ridiculous. "No! I am a man. I am John Tully." She grabbed me and pushed me in front of the mirror. "Look at yourself." I only saw a young woman, with a well-shaped figure, but covered in male pattern hair, and with a terrified look in her eyes. Her face was a cruel joke. She had the chin beard that I had started at college, but set on her female face it made her look like a freak. In horror I saw that she did everything that I did. Every motion that I made, she made simultaneously. I tried to turn away, but Ellen forced me to face the mirror again. "Look at yourself. You have the body of a woman. You have certainly have no male parts left that I can see. You are going to have to live as a woman. You are hairy, yes, but maybe we can do something about that with shaving or wax, or electrolysis. It's crazy that the spell changed you completely otherwise, but left you with all that male hair. Maybe it's another thing went wrong with the spell or maybe the person who made up the spells liked hairy women ." I grimaced. I was not in the mood for humor. She went on. "Now, first things first. I think you probably need to use the toilet." At that I had an overwhelming urge to go, and I lurched to the bathroom. Something seemed to be wrong with my balance. I stood in front of the toilet, lifted the seat, and immediately found I had a problem. Ellen was standing behind me. "Women sit down to pee, or didn't you know that?" I did so. I was almost immediately rewarded by a strong stream of urine. With disgust I realised I also smelled of stale urine. I must have wet myself sometime when I was unconscious. "At least you can pee. Now wipe yourself with the toilet paper." I gasped slightly as the paper rubbed against a sensitive part. Ellen was still standing over me. " What about the other ?" Sighing, I strained, and in a minute or two I was successful. "Now " said Ellen, handing me some more toilet paper, "Wipe yourself carefully, and backwards. Women's parts are closer to the rear than men's. You don't want to get an infection." Bewildered, I got up and washed my hands. Ellen handed me my dressing gown. It was now far too big for me. It draped loosely over me. Ellen took my hand. "Let's go and sit down, maybe in the kitchen. We have an awful lot to talk about." In a daze, I let her lead me to the kitchen. She poured two cups of coffee and set one down before me. I could only sip at it, the small female hands I saw in front of me were shaking so much. Ellen took them in her own hands again. "Now, John, you have had a terrible shock. Your whole life has changed. You are feeling devastated and overwhelmed. You have trouble accepting what has happened. I'm terribly sorry for you. I also have trouble accepting that I have lost a brother, but unless all this is temporary, it looks as if you are going to have to live with your changes. I don't have to tell you that you are going to have a lot of problems with that, but you are going to have to deal with them properly if you want to fool people and keep them from finding out what has happened.We have to keep it to ourselves." I was shaking my head in denial, but she ignored me. "First, you will have to try to get a new identity for yourself, if you don't want people to discover what has happened. So we will also have to come up with a reason for the disappearance of John Tully. But it's you that will have the most difficult part of all. You will have to live with your change. I mean that you will have to adapt, adjust to life as a woman and eventually get out to earn a living as a woman. We don't have a lot of money and I certainly can't support you. You will have to pull your weight in the business if you want to carry on there. Also, I am getting married in a few months. Eventually Roy and I will be starting a family, and I can't be responsible for you. So you'd better get used to what you have now become. Half the world's population are women and mostly they get on okay. You will have to manage just like them." I was still in a state of denial. "No, I'll live as a man," I shouted desperately. I winced at the shrill female voice. She shook her head. "Well, it's your life, but you'd better think about it. For instance, what do you think you are going to do for clothes ?" I got up and stumbled through to my room, banging my hips on the door frame. I realized now that it was the wider female hips that made me feel unbalanced. I opened a drawer and pulled out some underwear. I tried a pair of my shorts, but they were now loose around the waist and tight on the hips. My T-shirt fitted me like a tent, except for the two breasts on my chest pushing it out in front. Nowadays no one would be too concerned with wearing loose baggy clothing, but back then in the fifties I just looked ridiculous, like a clown. "You see. Your clothes no longer fit you. Even if you bought a smaller size in men's style, they would look stupid on your female body. You will have to get women's clothes. " This was too much. I was overwhelmed. I folded up crying. With disgust I realised I was crying like a woman, keening in a woman's voice. Like a woman! I was indeed a woman. I was racked with sobbing for my lost maleness. I felt Ellen holding me. I tried desperately to stop, but I felt so lost. Eventually I gave in and let her hold me until my crying had just about run its course. I vaguely remember her giving me a pill with another glass of water then putting me back to bed. I did not sleep well. The turmoil of the terrible change in my life continually intruded on my sleep. I kept waking, hoping, wondering if it had all been a bad dream, but each time I was continually reminded of the terrible reality when I forced myself to check my body and found only the unfamiliar female anatomy. I think I must have only slept a few hours in total. When I roused myself eventually from a tormented sleep, it was raining and grey. Just to match my mood, I thought bitterly. I crawled out of bed, but still unbalanced, I knocked over the bedside lamp. I sat down heavily on the floor. Ellen must have heard me and came into my room. She lifted me up gently onto the bed. "How do you feel today ?" "I am not sure how to describe it. Lost, confused, bewildered, scared." I was almost crying again. She sat down beside me and held me, her comforting arms rubbing and patting my back until I was breathing more easily. She stroked my brow. " I think the fever has gone now. Come on, and get something to eat," she said encouragingly. She pulled me to my feet and held out my dressing gown for me."You must be hungry. It's now Tuesday and I don't think you have eaten anything since Saturday." She laid out juice, coffee and a Danish pastry for me. I nibbled at the pastry. I looked at Ellen carefully. I had used to be taller than her, by about six inches, but now I was shrunk to about her size. She seemed different too. She had always been a pretty girl, but now it looked as if her face and body had changed too. Her skin was clearer, her hair more lustrous, her lips slightly fuller, her waist slimmer, her breasts higher. A whole series of subtle changes had changed her also. She was still recognizably Ellen, but now a graceful radiant beauty. "Sis, are you changed too ?" Ellen nodded slowly. "I was wondering when you would notice. Yes, I must have been affected too, but I didn't get any shakes like you, or go unconscious." "Won't Roy and others notice the changes in you ?" "Oh yes," she said happily. " They may, but I'll get my hair restyled and maybe a facial and makeover. Maybe also a new push-up bra and a firm girdle, a new dress. Then I can pretend that my changed appearance is due to them." I had now finished the pastry . I was now ravenous and I took another from the plate. Despite my hunger I had to eat slowly. My mouth felt so different. Even my voice was different and I stumbled over some words. In the unfamiliar female tones I again asked Ellen about what had happened. She described how after I lost consciousness, I had soon gone into a fever. A series of continuous ripples had rolled over me, each bringing subtle changes. After six hours I had reached my present appearance, but I had lain in a coma for another day. In fact I had only begun to show signs of consciousness early on Monday morning. She had taken off my outer clothes and put me into bed but she had been too scared of the changes to call for medical help. Although she had also gone through periods of mild shivers, she had not lost consciousness. Ellen stroked my head. "John, I've been thinking about things, about getting a new identity for you. We had a cousin Rachel Grant died near Louisville when she was three. She was about your age. Her parents are now dead too, so maybe you could get a copy of her birth certificate and take over her identity. Then we also have to think of a reason for John Tully to disappear. You can't keep that identity. You don't want people asking questions. If anyone does ask, we will have to pretend John has gone on a trip to California or some place to look for work. I can hint that he and I had a falling out. We will have to backup the documentation for your new identity, so you should get a new driver's license as soon as possible. But for now, we are going to have to do something about that hair, unless you want a job in the circus as the bearded lady." I did not appreciate this latest humor. She went on. " I can do a bit of hair removal here, at home, and we can get you looking more like a woman." I shook my head. "I don't want to. I'll get new clothes and live as a man." "John," she said wearily, "We have been over this yesterday. At the moment you just look like a freak. You now have a woman's face, skin, figure, voice. The only male thing about you left is your hair. You might try to live as a man, but you couldn't get away with it. You've definitely got a woman's voice and figure, not a man's, and you will need women's clothing. If you tried men's clothing,even if you bound your breasts, even with that hair, people would only think you are weird, or have some medical or sexual identity problem. I certainly wouldn't want you working in my store. So I think, considering your appearance, that the best thing is to try to live as a woman. That may be the most difficult of all for you. You have had about twenty years of thinking of yourself as a man, and all the male conditioning that your family, friends and society in general have given you. You haven't had any of the experiences of growing up as a girl, being treated as one, wearing dresses, and other pretty clothes, talking about them with other girls, playing with dolls, slumber parties, makeup, getting your first bra, your first nylon stockings, even having periods. We will now have to try to fix that. You've no real alternative to living as a woman." I felt my eyes fill with tears. Ellen pulled out a kleenex and wiped my eyes. She stressed again. "Unless you want people to think you are weird, you have to be a convincing woman. If we get rid of the male hair we can give you most of the appearance of one, although you will have to practice to get the mannerisms and behaviour right. You can't stay in hiding here. It's not like we are so rich that you don't have to work." She patted my shoulder. " Now, first thing for today, I think it's time you had a bath. You stink. I'll run a bath for you." By this time I really did smell. I hadn't washed now for three days. I felt sticky, and my arms and body smelled stale and sweaty from the fever. I sat in the chair miserably. I could hear the bath being run. It seemed I was no longer in control of my own life. Gently, Ellen pulled me up and led me to the bathroom. I tried to resist but she stripped off my dressing gown, T-shirt and shorts. "You needn't be shy. I saw you without you clothes yesterday. Remember ? Anyhow, I've seen naked women before." "But I'm not a wom... " I gave up. I was too depressed to resist. Moving carefully, still unused to the female hips and small female feet, I stepped into the warm water and sat down. The water was scented and covered with bubbles. " I've run you a bubble bath. Lie there and soak a bit. I'll be with you in a minute. I gotta get my razor and wax." I lay back and tried to take stock of my situation. The bath felt really good. Despite my troubled mind I even began to relax, ever so slightly. Hesitatingly, still not used to my body, I began to wash myself with my now small and delicate hands. The breasts on my chest were so strange. Soft, yet firm, with sensitive nipples and areolas, but covered with my curly male chest hair. I rubbed my chest carefully with the sponge. The nipples were very sensitive and I tried to rub them carefully. I noticed that there did not seem to be as much hair left on the breasts, then it was all off, and it was loose in the bath. I rubbed my arms. The hair stripped off. "Ellen ,"I yelled. "I am losing my hair." I was scrubbing my face with a washcloth when Ellen rushed in. "My hair is falling out." The washcloth was covered with the remnants of my beard and the short specks of hairs from my upper lip. She examined me. " It seems to be falling out at the roots. Actually, it's not all of your hair, just the male pattern hair, so now you are going to look like a normal woman after all. Well, at least you can be glad you won't have to suffer through waxing or electrolysis." I did not know whether to be glad or sorry at the loss of yet another of my male characteristics. "At least you've been left with the hair on the top of your head. Do you want me to wash it ?" Ellen asked. "Yes" I nodded. "I'll need to get more shampoo from my room." I lay back in the bath again. I started exploring the female body. It seemed so different. I squeezed the breasts, feeling their fullness, their texture.Wondering, I slid my hand between my legs. I felt the springy pubic hair on a small mound, below it the soft folds and the sensitive interior. "I see you have discovered the pleasure of female parts." Ellen was standing holding the shampoo bottle, with a slight smile on her lips. Embarrassed, trying to keep from blushing, I took my hand away and looked up. "Anyway, are you ready for me to do your hair ?" I nodded hastily. "I'm using my own shampoo and conditioner. It will give your hair a nice shine, but you will have to let it grow quite a bit. Your hair is long for a man, but it's still too short for a woman. In a month or so you can go to a hairdresser or salon and get it styled, and then let it grow out a bit." As she washed my hair some of it stripped off as well, but fortunately not too much. At last she rinsed me off and I stood up. She handed me a big towel. "Dry yourself with this." The water had now run out of the bath. The bottom and drain hole were covered with a thick mat of my body hair. She handed me a small towel. "This is for your hair. It helps to wrap a small towel round your hair to dry it better and keep it out of your face. That is, when it has grown a bit. You should get used to it." She wrapped it round me like a turban. She pointed to my crotch. "I see the change left you with some cute pubic hair too." I blushed again. My thick male pubic hair was almost gone, leaving me with a neat roundish patch of soft female hair. Ellen examined me. " You won't have to bother about a bikini wax now." She lifted up my arms. " But I see you still have some underarm hair, and you'll have to shave that. I'll show you how." She got out a razor, lathered under my arms and carefully stroked them with the razor . "Much as I love you, John, this is the only time I do this. It's your responsibility from now on." The razor tickled slightly. "Hold still, " she commanded. " This way you'll look better with sleeveless dresses and tops. Now let's have a look at you. Take off your towel and have a look at yourself in the mirror." I did so. In the mirror I saw the young woman again, now free of the incongruous male hair. She had a beautiful oval face, flawless features, with slightly prominent cheekbones. Her eyes were bluish grey, like mine had been, but they now looked from under delicately curved eyebrows. Her lips were beautifully curved, with a hint of a pout. Her head was set on an long elegant female neck, now missing a prominent adamsapple. She had a slim, but well figured body, a slender waist, and wide hips. Her breasts were perfectly shaped, with just a hint of a sexy droop, and tipped with pink nipples. Her long legs tapered from the wide hips to slim thighs, delicate knees, shapely calves, neat ankles and small feet. I turned slightly. The image had a well shaped female rear, just prominent enough to be sexy, yet perfectly balanced with the rest of her figure. The only problem was her dark blonde hair. It was entirely too short for her. It was the same length as John Tully's had been. She had a slight look of John Tully, yet an entirely feminine face. "Actually, I should be jealous. You are very pretty," said Ellen, "but your hair is much too short. So are your eyelashes, but I bet they will grow too, with your hair. You've also got quite a nice slim figure. That kinda puzzles me. I suppose that spell book was made up two or three hundred years ago, and a female beauty of that time would pretty hefty by today's standards. Be thankful you don't have to get on a diet right away. Maybe the spell adjusts to the ideas of female beauty at the time it is used." Frankly, at that time, my weight was the least of my problems. I looked closely at the unfamiliar reflection again. Despite the girl's short hair and eyelashes, I also thought she looked very pretty, but I only felt despair that I was now this beautiful being. Indeed she still had a troubled look on her face, a quiver on her bottom lip. "The next thing is to get some more appropriate clothes for you. Let me get your vital statistics." Ellen brought out a tape and carefully measured me all over. She seemed to take so long, and I was too agitated to stand still for very long. My exasperation must have showed. She glared at me." John, I am only trying to help you. If you don't want me to help, say so. Then you can do as you damned well want." I was angry, but I knew she was right. I needed her help and I forced myself to apologize. I was almost crying again. Finally she was finished. She kissed me on the cheek. "I know, it's all very strange, but I think you'll manage. Now, would you be all right while I go out and get some new clothes for you ? Why don't you put on some clothes, wash up and make us some lunch. I will be about an hour." I nodded. I pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, and my robe on the top. They just looked strange on my female anatomy, but it was better than going around naked. I washed the bath out and tidied up, trying to keep busy to get my mind off my predicament. I opened a can of soup and cut some bread for our lunch. Ellen returned in about an hour and a half with a large shopping bag from a department store in the nearby mall. She shook it onto my bed and a number of smaller packages slid out. " I've been shopping for some new clothes for myself, and I've also got an outfit for you, but let's have lunch first. I'm getting hungry." I was not very hungry, but Ellen had no trouble eating. Finally, she wiped her mouth. "I got you a very basic bunch of clothes, enough to do you for a day or so. We will have to go out again tomorrow and get you more, and you should really try on clothes before you buy them. Now, off with your clothes and try these." I was removing my robe when with dismay I saw her pulling a white bra from one of the packets. "I'm not wearing a bra." "Oh yes, you are, " she said firmly."For a number of reasons. If you don't wear a bra you'll find some of your clothes may chafe your nipples when you move around too fast. And that will be uncomfortable, believe me. Also, proper women wear bras. Finally, if you don't wear a bra, you will eventually start to droop. With the figure you have been given, it would be a shame not to make the best of it. Now take off the T-shirt and stick out your arms. " She giggled, "Look on this as if you were a girl getting her first bra. So you should be pleased, proud." Sighing, I held out my arms and let her slip the bra straps over them, and onto my shoulders. "Lean forward a bit so your boobs fall into the cups." I did so and I felt her hooking it in the back. "Now stand straight." She stood back and surveyed me. "Hmm, needs just a little adjustment on the straps." She fiddled with the strap adjustment at the top of the cups and I felt myself lifted and held firmly. " Actually that's not a bad fit, but next time you should get fitted professionally. " I looked down. I now seemed to be jutting out very noticeably. "Are you sure it's not too tight ?" I asked. It's confining. It feels like a harness." "No, I don't think so. It's just that you are not used to it. Now for your girdle." "A girdle! " I yelled. She looked at me in exasperation. "John, If you want to look like an ordinary woman, you'll have to wear a dress or a skirt. Pants are okay for casual wear, but they are not acceptable for women working in offices or stores, not yet anyway. Then, if you wear a dress, and you don't want your rear poking out, you will neeed a girdle. Proper women are wearing girdles. You will also need it to hold up your stockings and in turn stockings keep the girdle from riding up. If you don't want to wear a girdle you can wear a garter belt, but most well-dressed women are now wearing girdles. Some girls are wearing pantie girdles, but I like the regular open type, and I think it would be better for you." She pulled a white girdle from a packet, slid down its zipper and held it open for me. I heard its garters rattling against each other. "This one's side zipped and it has six garters. It's slightly high waisted, so it has some small bones at the waist to keep it from rolling over. You've got a girl's nice slim waist, but I notice you slouch, like a man, I should say. This will help your posture, get you walking like a girl." I looked at it warily. "What about underpants ?" I asked. She scowled at me. " Girls are starting to call their's 'panties'. You can wear panties under your girdle if you want, or even on top, but it's just another layer and more complications when you go to the toilet. You are still a learner in that department so I think you would be best without panties. Boxer shorts would be even dumber so you'd better take them off. Now, with this this style of girdle, you have to step into it. Hold onto me for balance if you want. " Resignedly, I did so. She pulled the girdle up my legs and thighs, and eased it over my hips. "Breathe in," she commanded. I did so and she slid the zipper up. I gasped. My hips, waist and belly felt compressed by the stiff fabric. "Stop complaining. You will get used to it, and anyway, it's what women have to wear. Now for your stockings. Better let me see your feet first." She looked at my feet and toenails. "I thought so. I'd better give you a little pedicure to save your stockings." She looked at my fingernails."Yes, and a manicure too. Sit down." I immediately discovered a problem. I could not now bend nearly as well as before. The high waist of the girdle held me upright. Even if I tried to bend, the little bones at the waist poked uncomfortably at my ribs. I looked at her in exasperation. "I can hardly bend!" She was not sympathetic. "Yes, that's a better posture already." She fetched her manicure set and started on my nails, ignoring my discomfort. I was embarrassed with my state of undress, or maybe I should say my partial dress, especially the view of the lacy tops of the bra jutting prominently from my chest. The shiny metal fittings of the garters, so typically female, sitting on my thighs under the satin garter flashes, did not help either. The pedicure seemed to be taking a long time, and I started to fidget. Ellen looked at me and sighed. "Hold still or I'll put some polish on your nails as well and then you will have to sit still another half hour while it dries." At last she was finished with my nails. I looked at them. She had rounded them slightly and they looked much neater. "I've shaped them more in a woman's style . You 'll need to let them grow a bit, but this will do for a start. At some point you can get a professional manicure and hair styling when your nails and hair grow a bit. Anyway, now let's get some stockings on you." She drew out a pair of pale tan nylon stockings from another packet, stretched them out then bunched one up. She held it to my right foot. "I got you some medium weight stockings. You can get sheerer or heavier later, as you want. Now, point your foot," she commanded. I did so and she slid the stocking over my foot and up my leg, smoothing it carefully as she did so. "Now stand up." I got up and she fastened the stocking to the three garters on one side. "That seems to be a good length. When you put on your stockings make sure the garter is attached onto the reinforced stocking top, like I've done here. Otherwise you may ladder your stockings. Now you try the other one." She bunched up the other stocking and handed it to me. Self-consciously, already feeling my movement restricted, I pulled it up onto my leg. I had little trouble with the front garter, but the others were more awkwardly placed and I fumbled with them a bit. Red-faced, I straightened up. Ellen turned me round and checked me. She did not notice my embarassment, or if she did, she didn't comment on it. "That's looks fine. You should be glad that stockings are now seamless, otherwise you would also have to be making sure your seams were straight. Now try walking up and down a bit." I did as she said. The bra felt confining, and the girdle hindered my movements, but the nylon stockings felt cool and smooth on my legs. I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw a pretty girl in her underwear and stockings, looking like a girdle advertisement. I thought she looked very attractive, even erotic, my male conditioning, I guess, but yet I was devastated with the realization that it was now my own reflection. I felt like crying. " How does that feel ?" I shrugged. "I don't know," I said helplessly. "How's it supposed to feel ? It feels tight, I guess, and I feel exposed." Ellen smiled. "Yeah, you've really had nothing to compare with it, but it looks okay. The spell's given you a very nice figure. By the way, your bra size is thirty four, a B cup. Not really enough for the Miss Universe competition, but still a nice average size for your height. Now your slip." She held out a white nylon slip for me and slid it over my head. The material felt really smooth on my body. The lacy hem came to just above my knees. " I got you a fairly simple dress". She pulled out a dress in a soft blue faintly patterned material. "It zips up at the back, but it also has a tie belt at the waist. It will do you for a start. But, before you try it on, we should try some makeup on you." "I don't want makeup, " I protested "Well, you don't need it today, but you will need some when you go out, just like other women. Remember, I am trying to help you, get you used to behaving like a girl. The least you can do is cooperate. Now, come into my room." She pushed me ahead of her. I was still not used to these female hips, and even with the restraint of the girdle on my walk I seemed to be moving my hips more. I tried to hold myself stiffly to stop the sway. "Stop that." Ellen gave me a slight smack on my girdled rear. You look like a prissy old maid. Women are allowed to sway their hips, well, a bit at least." She sat me down at her dressing table and rummaged around, pulling out a number of jars, boxes and tubes. "You have got a lovely smooth complexion, but a little makeup will still be a nice added touch. Girls will usually put on most of their makeup before they put on their dresses, just so they don't smear powder or lipstick on them. Now, hold still. I'll show you some evening make up. You wouldn't wear as much as this for daytime, but you might as well get used to it." She then proceeded to apply makeup to my face. She started with some cream that she said was to clean my face, wiped it off and applied a light powder, blusher, a blueish eyeshadow and a darker mascara. " Now,open your mouth slightly. When you put on lipstick, make sure it follows your lip line." She carefully applied a deep pink lipstick. "Now rub your lips together, like this." The lipstick felt slightly sticky, but its faint scent was pleasant. "You should get your own cosmetics, and you may want to get your own dressing table. You can use my table in the meantime, or put your makeup on in the bathroom, using the mirror there. How do like that now ?" I shrugged, but I was amazed to see I had been transformed into a stunning beauty, that is, except for my hair. It had seemed fairly long when I was a man. Now it was too short and severe for the lovely face that looked back at me. "Now your dress. " She slid down the zip at the back of the dress and handed it to me. I hesitated. It made my female costume more complete, but at least it covered up the underwear, so distinctively female."Well, go on, put it on." Sighing, I pulled it over my head, put my hands in the arm-holes and let the skirt fall over my hips. Ellen smoothed the dress on me ."Let me help you zip it up." She stood back to view me. "Not bad at all. In fact, fairly good. You will have no trouble passing as a girl, as far as your appearance, anyway. In fact I can hardly believe you were a man just a few days ago." She pulled out a shoe box. "I also got you a pair of flat shoes to begin with. As you get used to things you should get some dressier shoes with higher heels. Anyway, one thing at a time." She slid them on my feet and smiled at me affectionately. " You know, I always wanted a sister." She kissed me on the cheek again. I wanted to push her away. I was not in the mood for her comment. I felt that I was unwillingly adrift in a torrent of events over which I had no control, carrying me into an unknown future. I did not know whether to be glad or sorry when Ellen opened yet another box and produced a wig. "Your hair is too short for the way a woman wears it. Until it grows you'd better wear this wig." She adjusted it on my head and in the mirror I saw my transformation was complete. There was only now a trace resemblance to John Tully. "Now, I think its time for a little practice," said Ellen. "How do you mean ? " I asked. "I want you to get used to your clothes, and maybe you should practice moving like a girl. I mean gracefully, elegantly. Walk up and down the living room. We have to get your posture right." The next hour Ellen kept me walking up and down in the room. I found my movements restricted by both the skirt of the dress and the girdle underneath, and I was still not used to the female hips. I was forced to move in a kind of sway. All the time I could feel the slight yet insistent pull of the garters on my stockings. The bra felt like a harness, but at least it kept my boobs from swinging about. After an hour of this, she had me practice sitting and rising, from a dining room chair, then from the sofa . "When you sit down in a loose skirt or dress, don't make a big deal of it, but sit down carefully and gather your skirt under you so you are sitting on it. Don't flop down, or the back of your skirt may lift up and you end up sitting on the bare skin at the top of your stockings. On vinyl car seats it can be cold in winter and it's hot and sticky in summer. Also, when you sit, the best way is to keep your knees together and cross your legs at the ankle. You can cross them at the knees, but it's not so elegant and if you are wearing a short skirt it will show off more of your legs . You may end up showing some off some of your thighs, even your stocking tops if you are not careful. Of course, if you want to attract a man, you can try that. A little glimpse of stocking tops can do wonders in getting guys' attention." She gave me a wicked smile, but I was left with a hollow feeling. I was horrified that I might even accidentally attract the attention of a man. I remembered that at college the guys had tried to position themselves at classes to see more of the coed's legs. It had made our day if we caught sight of a dark stocking top or, better still, a garter or even the pale skin above a stocking top. After another half-hour of this drill I felt exhausted, but Ellen was still not done with me. "Next, I want you to make supper. That will get you more used to moving about in the girdle and the dress. I will be watching you, and correcting you, if necessary." "You're worse than a drill sergeant, " I burst out. "I'll take that as a compliment. I know, but it's for your own good. We've got your appearance nicely changed, so we now have to keep working on your behaviour and mannerisms so no one suspects that you were John Tully. That reminds me. From now on we should only use the name Rachel, Rachel Grant, for you. " My stomach gave a lurch. It seemed so strange to be talking about my John Tully identity in the past, as I was propelled along in a new identity. "Another touch." Before I could object she tied a frilly apron round my waist. I reddened. It seemed one thing after another. At least I was used to working in the kitchen. I had done my own cooking in college, and Ellen and I had shared the work when I returned from college. Now I found my movements restricted by my female underwear. It was not long before the bra began to feel uncomfortable. When I reached up to the top shelves, the shoulder straps hoisted the cups with my breasts in them. Eventually the skin under the shoulder straps began to feel tender. Also, I now found it difficult to bend at my waist or hips. Either the bones of the damned girdle poked into my ribs if I tried to bend at the waist, or if I tried to bend my knees more to compensate, the constraint of the stretched rear garters hindered my movement. Ellen was watching me." Careful how you bend. If your garters are too tight you may rip your nylons." I gritted my teeth. Next, Ellen had me lay and serve supper, continually commenting on and correcting my mannerisms and movements. I tried desperately to do as she said, but I was getting more and more frustrated and tired with her comments. Finally I, had had enough. I was overwhelmed and I burst into tears. She rose and held me, patting my back. "Rachel, I'm sorry, I know its hard for you , but actually you are doing very well. You are already moving a lot more gracefully than some women." She wiped my eyes and kissed me on the cheek. She untied my apron and led me to a soft chair. "Why don't you sit down now, Rachel. I'll tidy up." Thankfully, but remembering Ellen's instruction, I sat down carefully into a chair, as gracefully as I could. Ellen nodded approvingly. My crotch still felt exposed in the open girdle and dress. Automatically I crossed my legs, and I heard the rasp of my nyloned legs rubbing together. I shivered. It was a sound I had associated with women. I smoothed the skirt of my dress. It slid easily over the smooth material of my slip. Underneath my dress I felt the unaccustomed firmness of my girdled hips. Exploring further down, I felt the girdle's taut lower edge in my lap, and the hard ridges of the garters, tautly fastened to my stocking tops, pulling imperiously on them. My knees felt smooth under the stretched nylon of the stockings. I could also feel the bra holding and lifting me. I wriggled my shoulders but it remained firmly in place. Its embrace was not to be denied. I tried to take stock of the changes in my life. I now looked like a girl. I was dressed as one, I was even using a girl's name, but I certainly did not feel like one. I knew I would still be attracted to girls. I might be able to have girls as intimate friends, but if I now showed sexual interest, people would think I was a lesbian. With the guys, I might still find it easy to talk to them as if I were still a man, but to them , with my female good looks I might be foremost only a female sex object. I wondered if I would be stuck this way for ever. If I was, however would I manage ? Ellen had finished doing the dishes and came through, wiping her hands on the dish towel. She sat down beside me. "Why the long face ?" I tried to explain to her. "I don't know, Rachel, but if the spell has made you into a woman, it would be cruel if it did not change you mentally as well. Maybe it has to take some time for the male hormones to leave your body. You look very female, and I know you pee like one, so I bet everything is as a woman should be internally too. So I expect you should now be getting a monthly cycle with some good doses of female hormones from your ovaries. If I was a psychologist I might have some fun studying the effect of your male upbringing versus the effects of your female hormones." She saw my mouth drop as another realization hit me. " Oh yes! You should be thinking about that. If everything is working okay, you will be getting a period sometime." This was about the last straw, to be faced with the monthly fuss and bother of female pads or tampons. I felt broken. I closed my eyes as they filled with tears. Ellen lifted my chin up. "Poor little sister," she said softly. "You are having a time of it." She hugged me again. "A lot has happened, but I think it may improve." She was suddenly brisk. "Now, tomorrow, we'd better get into work sometime. There are a lot of things to be done but first we will need to get some more clothes for you, maybe in the morning. I'd better go with you. I'm sure you wouldn't have a clue about what to get, or what might suit you, and I'm sure you want me for moral support." I nodded. "What will we do about paying for all of the stuff ?" "Yes, I was coming to that." She got a piece of paper and a pen. "Try signing your name as John Tully." I did so, my signature was recognizable, but my writing now seemed to be more rounded and feminine. Sadly, I shook my head."God, even my writing is changing." Ellen nodded." I wondered about that. Your signature is changing, but it's still recognizable. You can write me a cheque for the balance of your account. I will then deposit it in my account and in turn I can write a you cheque in the name of Rachel Grant when you have started an account. How much money do you have ?" "About twelve hundred, but I was keeping it for emergencies. " "And this isn't ?" I grimaced. I had to agree with her. "Tomorrow you can put your new stuff on my store account and pay me back when you get your new bank account . Maybe you should also open your own account with the store after you have established some credit. You'll have to start gettting a complete wardrobe, and makeup, toiletries, in fact, the works, all the stuff a woman uses." I looked at her in exasperation, but she continued. "Another thing, Roy will be back tomorrow night so I will introduce you to him as Rachel Grant. Remember, you are supposed to be new here. You are not supposed to have met him before. You will need to do some pretty good acting with him, and others. For instance, the fiance of my friend Lois is a cop. He's called Joe. You may meet him sometime, so remember that cops have naturally suspicious minds.Also, you'd better move tomorrow into the spare bedroom, and tidy up the room you are using. Remember that supposedly 'John' has now left, so we should keep up the pretense of it being his room for a month or so." She was getting me worried, but my eyes were now getting heavy and I had a sudden spell of yawning . "Sorry, Ellen , but I am beginning to feel very tired." I rubbed my eyes. "Yes," Said Ellen. " I think it's time for your beauty sleep. How did you sleep last night ?" "Not very well. I kept waking up." " No wonder. Your life has been turned upside down. It must very upsetting and confusing, to say the least." Her voice was tender. "Maybe you should take another sedative. There are some left in the medicine cabinet. I had them for when Mom died. I gave you one last night." Ellen got me a sedative and a glass of water. When I had drunk it she took my hand and led me to the bed room . "Come on, I'll unzip you." She slid down the zipper on the back of my dress and helped me undress. She handed me some cream and tissue. "First, you should remove your makeup, unless you want it all over the bed sheets." I was about to put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, but she stopped me, and rummaged through the packages."I've got something more suitable for you here." She unwrapped a long cotton nightdress and, before I could object, she slid it over my head. "This is a nice practical nightie. Maybe you can get something more glamorous later on." I was too tired to react and as she tucked me into bed, I fell asleep almost instantly. Bright sunlight was shining in my room when I awoke. I listened, but I could not hear Ellen moving around. I eased myself out of bed and went to the kitchen, the hem of my nightdress fluttering around my legs. Ellen had left a note on the kitchen table. I read it. "Good Morning, Rachel, you looked so sweet I decided to let you sleep. I have gone to the store to do some urgent stuff, but I will be back at lunch. So you should wash, and get dressed, etc. Maybe you can start tidying up 'John's' room. Love Ellen." After breakfast and a shower, I began to think about getting dressed. For several minutes I sat and, depressed, contemplated the pile of women's clothing lying by my bed where I had left it. Swallowing, I began to put the garments back on, cursing, in turn, the little hooks in the back of the bra, the rigidity of the girdle, the twisting and fumbling to fasten the back garters and the zipper at the back of the dress. I was tidying up 'John's' room when Ellen came back. I looked at the clock. It was about one o'clock. " I expected you earlier. Do you want some lunch ?" "Oh, no thanks! I already picked up a coffee and a hamburger. I'm sorry, Rachel, I should have called you. Anyway, Roy called me and I've given him the story that John has gone off to California, and that my cousin Rachel, is visiting from Kentucky, so when you are talking to Roy, keep with that story. I've done the most urgent stuff at the store so when you are ready we can get off to the stores and find you some more clothes." She stopod back and examined me. " You look fine. Get dressed okay ?" I scowled at her. "Yeah, if you don't count the contortions doing up zips, hooks and garters." She laughed. " Well, if it makes you feel any better, you look quite good, although I see you don't have any makeup on yet. I'll help you with it." My heart sank. "Do I need to ?" "Yes!" She was quite definite. She sat me down at her dressing table and handed me her powder and lipstick. "All right, you can try it. It's daytime and with your nice complexion you won't need much more than lipstick, maybe just a light touch of powder. Anymore makeup in daytime and it has to be done carefully or it may make you look a bit cheap." I carefully applied the cosmetics to her direction. She nodded her approval when I was finished. " That's good, Now your wig." She handed it to me and I eased it over my hair. She adjusted it slightly and examined me. "That's fine. Now, do you want to have lunch ?" I shook my head. "I've just finished breakfast. I'm not hungry." "All right, let's get going. It's fairly warm, and we are driving there, so you won't need anything over your dress." We were out the door and almost at the car when I had a sudden attack of nerves. This was my first time out of the house dressed as a woman. It did not help that a slight breeze was blowing up my skirt. I felt naked and exposed. Ellen saw me hesitating, and squeezed my hand. "You really needn't worry. Anyone seeing you will have no idea that you are anything other than a woman, and an attractive one at that." Nevertheless, I wanted to rush into the car in case anyone saw me. Ellen still kept hold of my hand. "Take your time," she emphasized. " You are a lady. Act like one. Another little lesson." She opened the passenger door. " When you are wearing a skirt, especially if it is a tight one, the best way to get into the car is to back in, slide your rear onto the seat and then swing your legs round." She parked the car outside one of the mall entrances ."Now, remember, you are now completely a girl in appearance. No one will think anything strange about you. If you attract any attention at all, it will be the normal attention that men give to a good-looking girl, or maybe some women will be slightly jealous of you. You really are quite pretty. Now, out we get. Keep your head high and walk confidently." I blushed and, taking a deep breath, got out of the car. "Stand straighter," Ellen said." Hips forward. You are starting to slouch." I followed Ellen through the glass doors. I momentarily panicked as the breeze ruffled my skirt. After that I did not have nearly as much difficulty as I expected. On the way to one of the department stores we passed two men, and I knew they were giving me a quick visual onceover, but, remembering what Ellen had said, I hurried on with her. She caught my arm. "Did you see those guys ?" "Yes, what about them?" "They were checking us over." She giggled, but I felt humiliated. "Relax," Ellen said, "Enjoy it." To my relief, apart from that, I mostly only got a few disinterested glances from the other shoppers. Ellen had an account at one of the big stores. The shopping took us almost three hours. Ellen had shepherded me through the various departments in the store. I was exhausted at the end, but I was finally outfitted and accessorized to Ellen's approval. In fact we got loaded with so many parcels and bags we had to take a trip out to the car and dump them in the trunk before starting again. It seemed that I had got about one to three samples of everything a woman might want to wear. First, she had pushed me, blushing, into the foundation garments department, and rounded up one of the saleswomen to get me personally fitted. After an hour in this alien territory, I had got out with two more bras and two more girdles. She had insisted I get yet another in the high waisted style I was already wearing, but she relented at my complaints and instead she allowed me to get another in a lower waisted style on the condition I also got an all-in-one garment she called a corselette. Next, trailing me in her wake, she ploughed through the racks selecting a houseco