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A Surprise for Vernon By Stats I am Vernon, a normal healthy heterosexual male who had just celebrated his twenty-ninth birthday. I have a medium build on a 5 foot six inch frame and except for the bulging stomach from too many beers I am in good health. I have a really cute girlfriend, Stacey, who I have been living with for almost a year. My best friend is Bill who is the owner's son where I work. He and several good buds and I hang out two or three times a week. I never, and I mean never, had a fantasy of being a female in my entire life. In fact, I am glad that I am a male, and would be forced to admit, if I am asked, that I am perfectly content with my station in life and my sexual activities. Veronica is what I become within the year; a complete female, with all the desires, dreams, and attributes of my new sex. Spending countless hours making myself beautiful and desirable. Reveling in my femininity and sexuality. Madly in love with my best friend and lover, Bill. I now know how this happened to me. But first let me describe the metamorphosis that I went through and the reaction of my friends and girlfriend. I want to tell you my story because it will show you how subtle changes will occur if you chance to get yourself in the same situation as myself. My experience starts with a New Year's resolution. I get out of the shower and look in the mirror this New Year's morning. Two realizations spring to my mind. My stomach is ridiculous - it looked like I am five months pregnant. I steps on the scale and see the cost of his last night's revelry put me over 170 pounds, a new high for old Vernon here. I yell in good humor to Stacey in the next room. "Hey Stace, I think you and I need to get married before the baby arrives." Stace peeps around the corner to see me extend my stomach to give the impression of a bloated five-month pregnant woman in front of the mirror. She comes up behind me and gently caresses my swollen stomach in a very sensual way. She whispers in my ear, "You better go on a diet, my love, before all our friends start to talk." She then bites my ear, and gives me a playful smack on my bare bottom and walks away. As she reaches the door, she turns and with an impish smile says, "I don't think I had anything to do with making that baby anyway." I announce on the spot that today is day ONE of the quest to 140 pounds. After I say it, I am totally confused. Up to the moment that Stace has suggested it, the idea of a diet had never occurred to me. It is as if someone else in my body has decided I will diet. The 140-pound target seems very extreme indeed; I haven't weighed that since age 14. The second realization is that I find, for the first time since I started my macho mustache eleven years ago, that it looks absurd. I can't explain it other than it no longer looks appropriate and I suddenly don't want it anymore. In an impulse I take the scissors in the top drawer and in five minutes my trademark walrus mustache is history. I then shave twice to make sure there is no sign of upper lip hair. Ten minutes later I emerge from the bathroom in my sports shirt and baggy shorts. I have my jogging shoes on. "Hey Stace, care to join me in an early morning run." She looks up from her magazine and promptly spills her coffee. "What happened to your mustache?" she blurts out. "I hardly recognize you." "Had to get rid of all extra weight if I am to achieve 140 pounds. How about the run?" At Two Months It is the first of March when the next strange thing happened. Over the two months I stuck to my diet and as I step on the scale I am glad to see I have finally achieved 145 pounds. I have been doing waist exercises and my waist now measures just over 30 inches. I look at my image in the mirror and notice that my arms and legs are a little thinner than I ever remember them. My eyes shift to my hair, it has been eight weeks since I had it cut. Normally I would have been obsessed with having it cut. Without thinking, I brush my wet hair back and try to make a ponytail of the little handful of hair I can grab. I love the sleek look Stacey enters the bathroom just as I am striking a pose and I see her surprised statement in the mirror. Without any forethought I ask her if she thinks I would look better with long hair. She comes up and taking one of her hair bands forms a ponytail. It is only four inches long but she has to admit it really suits me. "I think you should go for it, your hair is certainly thick enough and I see more and more men with ponytails these days." "But frankly, Vern, if you are going to grow your hair long you should thin your eyebrows. They used to match your mustache and bushy hair style but they look out of place now." I look in the mirror and reflect on what she has just said. "You are right, Stace. Say, I can't believe I used to have a mustache months ago." How disgusting I think to myself. After I dress, Stacey is waiting for me with a pair of tweezers. She spends a good half hour thinning and shaping my eyebrows into a unisex style. When I look in the mirror, the thought passes through my mind that I look a bit feminine but I let it pass without commenting on it to my girlfriend. When Stacey and I are almost through our run I catch her grinning. "What is it?" I demand. "You still got your ponytail, Vernon." I quickly pull the scrungy off in a reflex action and am immediately sorry; I would have much preferred to leave it in. Feeling a need to make a commitment I say impulsively, "I have decided to let my hair grow Stacey." At Four Months On the first of May, I step out of the shower to see how my weight progress is. I am amazed as the scales register 135. I stand in front of Stacey' makeup mirror and look at my thin frame with my loose hair draping well over my shoulders. For the first time the thought crosses my mind that I looks a quite feminine. My waist and hips don't look right. In an impulse I grab the tape to measure my waist. It is 29 inches. I compulsively measure my hips and am surprised to see they are 36 inches, somewhat larger than I remembered they used to be a few months ago. I turn sideways and stick in my gut. My chest is a tiny bit puffy. It is not really noticeable unless you look on it from a certain angle while standing erect with my tummy sucked in. On examining my nipples, they instantly turn hard to my touch. The nipples seem to be larger and I feel a small bud behind each nipple. I put my hands under my breasts and pull up. My eyes almost cross as I now have a small bit of cleavage and loose flesh folds over my palms by a good inch. Stacey has already left for work. I should have left for work too but I sit in Stacey's makeup chair in front of the mirror in a daze. "What is going on?" I hear myself saying over and over again. My first impulse is to cut off my long hair and grow back my mustache. I even have the scissors in my hands. But the thought of short hair is so repulsive to me that they drop on the floor. The realization suddenly occurs to me that I actually like my new look although I still have no desire to look like a girl. The strange thoughts so startle me that I quickly get dressed and go to work. My concerns sink into my subconscious before I get out the door. At Six Months Several times the thoughts that something is terribly wrong occur to me over the next two months. On that fateful July 1st Friday, I emerge from the shower having relived my May 1st revelations for the umpteenth time. I had stopped dieting on that day. However, the scale now showed me at 128. I assess my frame and determined that his arms and legs are positively thin. I raise my hands before my face. Generally, I never let my nails get more than a sixteen of an inch long, but they are more than over a quarter inch long now. My baby fingernails are much longer. At any time in the past I would have trimmed my nails but I find myself incapable of cutting them. Stacey walks into the bathroom while I am looking at my hands. "What's up Vernon, something wrong with your hands?" she chimes. "Stacey, look at me," I say as I stand in front of her with a big bath towel wrapped around my torso. "Something is incredibly wrong with my body." The anguish in my voice immediately heightens Stacey's concern. "I just stepped on the scale and I am still loosing weight even though I have been off my diet for two months" I lament. "But Vernon, you eat like a bird. Even after your diet I have never seen you eat a big meal. You eat less than I do" she replies. "Look at my fingernails," I say pushing them up to her face. "I can't bring myself to cut them, they are perfect," I say in a high pitch hysteria. "You are right, any girl would be delighted with nails like that. Mine always break before they get anywhere near that length. Do you want me to cut them for you?" "No!" I say in a panic as I pull my nails away from her. "I couldn't bear it." "What is happening to me? I seem to be turning into a girl. Please tell me it isn't true." I say visibly upset." After getting a tape measure, she asks me to lower my towel. "Oh my gosh, I now see what you mean." And she measures my middle. "Wow, you have a 28 inch waist," she exclaims, "That is my waist measurement!" She then measures my hips. Quietly she exclaims, "36 inches, but your shape is different." After a moment of scrutiny she says "I don't know how to break this to you Vernon, but you definitely have a feminine butt and thighs." I then take her hand and force her to grasp my nipple. Her eyes open wide as she feels a definite budding breast behind a stiff nipple. "Oh my," she says as her hands hold onto two sizeable amounts of breast and forms a definite cleavage as we both stare into the mirror. "I don't know how I could have missed this," Stacey stammers. "We have made love every week and I guess I had concentrated on your penis, which incidentally hasn't changed since I have known you. You should see a doctor, it must be a hormone imbalance." "I don't know what to do. I noticed that my pants seem to be tight on my ass and have started to wear suspenders because a belt bunches up around my small waist. Is my figure truly feminine?" "The only way to find out is to try on some of my clothes" Stacey offers. "Are you willing to do that?" "No, absolutely not" I blurt out. We go into the bedroom and we both sit in silence for a few minutes on the bed. Stacey rubs my back and sweeps my longish hair to my back. Maybe the dress is a good idea; it will settle in my mind how foolish I look as a girl. But then I think of how inappropriate it would be to try on her clothes. But maybe if I tried it, I would find it is all in my mind. The more I think about it, the more it seems like a good idea. I could then see how ridiculous I look in spite of my feminine shaped body. Finally I break the silence. "You may have something there, Stace. I'll bet you a dinner at the winner's choice that you can't make me look like a girl." Stace, always a sucker for a bet deepens the odds. "OK, but if we agree that you look like a girl you have to go to dinner as a girl tomorrow night." "And if I don't then you get to buy your macho boyfriend a meal at Dante's." I already had the restaurant picked out, my favorite just up the coast a few miles. It is quiet, dark and the Italian food melts in your mouth. Their veal medallions have to be my very favorite. What is more, tomorrow night is dance night and if I win I will dance in celebration. There is no way I can look like a girl and before I can reflect on it further Stacey says "your on, Veronica." I go to say something but I am startled at how much I like her to call me Veronica." Stacey looks at her watch. "It is just after 6, I need to run to the store to get a few things and I will pick up some Chinese food for dinner." "Like what?" I say, somewhat alarmed. "Like chicken fried rice, sweet and sour spareribs and deep fried prawns," she replies sarcastically, and after a moment adds, "Like a bra in your size, unless you want to wear one of mine with suitable padding." This is true I think to myself. Tracy is a very full 36C. "In the meantime, I want you to get in the mood. I want you to have a bubble bath while I am gone. Also, wash your hair and use cream rinse after. Oh, Veronica, please shave your armpits." The bubble bath is soothing. I could get quite used to this. While I am lying there in bliss I reflect. A diet, no mustache, long hair, thin eyebrows, now hairless armpits? what is happening to me. My spell is broken when Stacey pops her head in the bathroom and tells me it is time to get out of the tub. Immediately she puts her pink terry cloth robe on me and folds my hair in a towel turban style. She insists I also wear her pink fluffy slippers. I feel foolish but I agree to do whatever she wants. We sit down to dinner and she goes through all she bought for me. "I got this hair coloring kit. As you can see it will wash out with five or six shampoos. I decided that you should have auburn rather than brown colored hair." "These earrings are clip on. All mine are for pierced ears, remember. They may look long but I am sure they will not touch your shoulders." The matching bra and panties were lavender. I couldn't stop myself from fondling the panties. They felt so silky. I felt very embarrassed about my reaction to them. The bubble bath and the feminine bathrobe, towel and slippers had turned a switch in my head; I am feeling like a girl. I am suddenly aware of my breasts. It is like they had doubled in size in the last hour. I subconsciously squeeze them with my arms and I can sense my nipples becoming very hard. Well, I rationalize, I am told to get in the mood. She then shows me baby blue tank top she has bought for me. "It will show your cleavage and belly button at the same time" she says with a grin. I thought you could wear my jeans and dark blue strap sandals, as we have the same size waist, hips and feet. I believe I can show you that you look feminine without wearing a fem fatale outfit." A wave of relief comes over me as I thought she is going to put me in a mini dress and high heels. Finally, she brings out a bottle of super red nail polish and I look blankly at it. When we finish eating she takes me into our bedroom and sits me before the vanity, facing away from the mirror. "We are going to do your nails first," she says, "so you have something to look at while I get you made up and dressed. I sit quietly while she applies coat after coat of nail polish. I have to admit my nails look extremely feminine. After a few minutes I can't take my eyes off of them. Finally, I come to the realization that these are how I want my nails to look and I never want to remove the polish. Boy, am I in big trouble. By the time she finishes my toes I am transfixed on my nails. Each nail glistened flawlessly. The fingernails were as shapely as Joan, our receptionist at the office. She must have a nail fetish as she is constantly grooming them. I have never seen anyone so absorbed in nail care as her and now I understand. I even heard the other girls talk about Joan - other girls, where did that come from? Next, Stacey has me stand up and pulls on my new lavender panties over my butt. She puts a sanitary napkin in the crotch and instructs me to make sure all my manly parts go into body cavities. I look down at my hairy legs as I am doing this and think I would have shaved my legs if I felt this sexy two hours ago. She has me step into her jeans and after she does up the zipper in the back, runs her hands down my crotch and legs. I look down at my flat stomach and smooth crotch. It suddenly occurs to me that these are the first pair of pants I have worn in the last four months that actually fit me. I close my eyes and sense them compressing my entire lower body ever so slightly. But the waist fits and a sigh of contentment escapes my lips. The sandals are slipped on my feet. I have to admit from my waist down my front looks like a female. I even notice that the top of my thighs have that female bulges to the side, part of my hourglass figure. "OK", Stace says. "Here comes the big test" as she holds the bra up to my chest while standing behind me. She guides the bra under the puffiness in my chest and fastens the four clips on the back. She pulls some flesh into the cups from the sides and makes sure my breasts are fully in the cups. I look down and I don't believe what I see. Between what I have on my chest and the padding I have honest to god breasts. And what is more disconcerting, I have a more than significant cleavage. Before I can gather my senses, the blue ruffled halter is in place. It clings to my body. accenting two substantial breasts, and exposing a very definite cleavage. As I look down over the top of my breasts I see a bear midriff with a tiny waist. Below that is an expanse of bulging hips. Finally, peaking out from under the jeans are two very feminine feet with blood red toenails. From this angle I am convinced I look like a pretty girl. Stacey has me stoop in front of the kitchen sink where she proceeds to apply the color rinse. I can see out of the corner of my eye that my brown hair is transforming into a very feminine shade of auburn. I happen to glance at the fingernails holding the front of the sink and think to myself, who do they belong to. Then I remember; they belong to me. For the next half hour my hair is being styled and blown and fluffed and combed. I pass the time looking at my nails on my thighs and wiggle them and my toenails to confirm that they are connected to my body. A few thoughts cross my mind that I shouldn't have done this but I am totally excited to find out what the end product will look like. For the moment I mentally want to look like a girl and convinced I will feel different after this silly bet is over. I most certainly want to remain a male but let me see if I can pass as a girl. I, of course, would not confide any of these feelings to Stace. But I am convinced a threshold had been crossed within this very hour that I spent so much time in the past few months denying with every breath I took. Clipping the earrings on brings me out of my stupor. In another moment I see a small silver heart hanging in the valley between my breasts and feel Stace doing up the clasp of the thin chain in the back of my neck. She then takes of her watch and puts it on my wrist. It is quite feminine, I gave it to her for her birthday last year. "Now," she whispers in my ear, "the last step to getting my dinner." I look at her as she puts several clear strips on my face. After a few minutes of smoothing and pressing them she rips one off. I see it is covered with little hairs and their bulbous roots. "You are not going to have to shave for a week," she giggles as she rips strip after strip off of me. Once my face is cleaned she sets about trimming my eyebrows. "Please control yourself," I plead, "I am going to have to go to work remember, and I don't want to go with female eyebrows." "We are almost done," she says with a kiss on my cheek. Over the next few minutes she applies a foundation and powder to my face, followed by liquid eyeliner and blue eye shadow. Finally she works on my lips using a brush and a fine pencil. As she turns me around to look into the mirror she says "Well Veronica, are you ready to buy me my dinner." There goes that name again, lord I like it more each time I hear it. Veronica, Veronica, Veronica. I guess this momentary distraction makes me unawares, because I am completely startled by my reflection. Involuntarily I murmur, "Oh my god, I am knock dead gorgeous," and stand there for a long time with my mouth open. It is not so much that I look female; it is that there isn't an iota of manliness in my image. My face looked like it belongs on a magazine cover. I don't know where Stacey has got the mass of hair from and the colors sparkling in the lights of the room make it appear alive. I now have bangs and the upsweep on my left side and a cascade of curls to my chest on my left side gives me a regal look. My lipstick is a soft shade of red with an orange tint. It suits the face in the mirror perfectly. It glistens invitingly for a kiss and I involuntarily form that enticing half smile I have seen so many women use. My complexion is flawless and somehow the angular lines I am expecting have evaporated in a haze of shadowing. "Well, I take it you admit defeat Veronica," she gloats. "Dinner is on me." I concede as we walk into the living room. I am being devoured by my new persona. Fantasy after fantasy of me doing girl type things are passing through my mind. My doorbell brings me out of my stupor. I look up and see Bill looking in my front door window directly at me. I immediately turn and go as fast as I can to the bathroom. Behind the bathroom door I hear Stacey answer the door. "Hi, Bill. What's up?" "I felt like I needed company and thought I'd drop over and see if you and Vernon would like to do something. But now that I see you have company, maybe we could make it a foursome. You have to introduce me to that gorgeous creature you were talking to?" "I certainly will. Veronica, come out and show yourself to Bill." I can't believe what I am hearing. I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror and I see a pretty girl with heaving breasts. She is in a panic and as she turns to lock the bathroom door there are Stacey and Bill looking at her from the hall. Bill does not show any sign of recognition. "Bill and I will be in the living room when you are ready to join us, Vernon." Stacey says it with such compassion. My hands fly up to my face revealing my beautiful nails and more cleavage as my arms push my breasts up. I watch Bill's mouth drop open. "What are you doing to me, Stace?" I yell. "Why did you let Bill see me like this?" I am on the verge of tears. Bill finally says in a soothing voice. "Vern, it is all right. Please remember, you are my closest friend. I am surprised but not shocked. You are incredibly gorgeous and so very very feminine. When you are ready please come and talk to us." With that, he takes Stacey by the shoulder and walks her back to the living room. It takes me a good 10 minutes to gain enough composure to face Bill. I enter with my best impersonation of a female. I have a speech already prepared for Bill but Stacey beats me to the punch. "Listen Veronica! Bill and I have compared notes. He is aware that you are becoming more and more female and is relieved to find out that you have no control over this. You desperately need his alliance and help. How much longer do you think you will be able to pass as a male? Look at yourself! Look! In another few weeks you won't have a choice but to appear as a girl. I wasn't certain of where this was going until I went shopping a few hours ago. There can be no debate; my very dear boyfriend is now my best girlfriend. Seeing you all decked out like this convinces both of us you will be a male for a very short time. Bill has agreed to help us sort things out." I sit down on the sofa and tried to absorb all that is happening. I could try to run but I would only have to come back. Stacey and Bill are all the resources I have. Stacey picks up the phone and I hear her making reservations at Dante for tomorrow night. "There will be three of us and the reservations should be under the name of Veronica". We then spend the next four hours discussing my situation and trying to find some clue on why this is happening to me. The chemistry between Stacey and I has changed, she is much closer to me. By the time the evening ends, I find it easier and easier to talk to Bill as Veronica. He ends the evening by giving me a hug and says, "This certainly will be an evening to remember. I go to visit my chum and find he is the most feminine person I have ever met." After Bill leaves Stacey and I go to bed. Neither of us are in the mood for making love which is a pity because I tell her that I don't know how much longer I will be able to make love as a male. She tells me it doesn't matter because I will always be her Vernon. She undresses me and puts one of her negligees on me. We fall asleep with her in my nook with my long fingers playing with her rock hard nipples. The next morning I make love as a male to Stacey for the very last time. At Eight Months So much has happened in the last two months I hardly know where to begin. My statistics should explain my situation. I am now weighing in at 125 pounds. My waist has shrunk to 26 inches and my hips have grown to 37 inches. I have a full B bust and may soon be able to fit in Stacey's bras. I really hope my nipples don't get any larger or more sensitive. What is most significant is I now have a vagina. I woke up one morning about the first of August and my testacies had vanished, disappeared into a body cavity. About two days later I had the most persistent and annoying itch just behind my penis. I immediately went to see the doctor about it and when they cut the skin open a complete vagina was present. What had caused the itch was that my first period was in progress. My penis continues to shrink; it is barely an inch long at this time. When the three of us arrive at Dante's on that fateful July Saturday I have already made up my mind I am going to become a female. Bill and I dance and I couldn't help but rub his hard member through our clothes by swaying my hips from side to side until he climaxed. I am so proud of myself for doing that; I have him completely in my power. Stacey says she looked everywhere for a fire hose as she is embarrassed that we will be thrashing about on the dance floor. We part that night with the tenderest kiss of my life. He looks at me like a puppy in love and tells me that we will work things out. I am not expecting any of this and my body wilts in his hands. When Stacey sees me in our living room light her hands goes up to her mouth and she says "Oh Veronica, look at your nails. They are brilliant red." It turns out she used one of those new polishes that changed color with your emotion. We talk long and hard into the night about my metamorphosis and my mental resolve. I tell her I have made up my mind, I am already a female and to return to Vernon is almost repulsive. It is like Bill's kiss was one more switch in my mind. Stace is the first to reach the inevitable conclusion that the two of us will eventually marry. Stace and Bill convince me I have to see my doctor again as soon as possible. As it turns out Stace makes me an appointment for the following week and even takes time off work to go with me. The conclusion is contradictory to having male organs. My body is producing increasing amounts of estrogen and no testorone. X-rays show I also have a set of female organs in my body. Although they are in the early stages of puberty they dominate my behavior. I couldn't be a male now even if I wanted to. Four sessions later they still couldn't explain how they got there or what initiated their development. But by that time it was now a medical certainty that I would be a complete and total woman by sometime in October. I could have told them that by the end of July because I was completely infatuated with Bill and already experienced what I believe to be a female orgasm. Wow, nothing like it! Stace moved out of the apartment also at the end of July. She said she is going to her home in Chicago for a few months and we pledge to be each other's best friends. We both bawl when we part at the airport and I tell her if she doesn't move back by the new year I will park myself on her doorstep in Chicago. Being with Bill is different. I had always felt affection for Stacey and thought that was ultimate in love. We had even talked about marriage but no commitment had been made. It is more, much more, than going though the motions, but in comparison, it bears no relationship to how I feel about Bill. Since that first kiss, it is like my whole being exists for him and him alone. At work, Bill went to bat for me. That first week in July, Bill had laid out the groundwork with company management and personnel for my continued employment. He had made arrangements with the company agreeing to pay my medical bills and keeping track of my progress with my doctor. They would probably have dismissed me if it weren't for Bill's intervention. Being the owner's son has some advantages. In any event, I reported to a new department as a full time female on July 11th. Stacey and I continue to talk on the phone almost daily. She can't believe how feminine I sound. When I got off the phone this morning we were both in tears. She is going to come back October 1st. I have thought long and hard about what started my metamorphosis. I have gone over last December's activities time and again. The only thing that seems out of the ordinary was a chocolate bar I got from someone at the office at the Christmas Party. I remember making a big deal of it at the time, who would give me a high-class specialty chocolate bar? No one owes up, except one of the girls suggests it is from Santa Clause. I look over the wrapper for clues. I have never seen a chocolate bar like it. It was a pink wrapper with a gold label "A Surprise for Vernon." Christmas morning I get up early to make a special breakfast for Stacey. I am incredibly hungry and as breakfast would be another hour or two I ate the chocolate bar. It has to be, by far, the best chocolate I ever ate. I am going to save some for Stacey but when I look down I have eaten it all. I examine the label closely to see who makes it. In small print at the bottom of the back are the words, "Prepared especially for you from your friends at SRU. We know you will enjoy the experience."