Making An Omelet free porn video

Making an Omelet By Jillian There's an old saying I often think of and try to live my life by, something about when life deals you broken eggs that you should try to make an omelet from them. It's served me well over the years, helping to keep me on an even keel in the face of stress, whether it's personal or professional. But I had no idea how truly important this philosophy would become when faced with the most stressful situation anyone could imagine themselves having to deal with. To lay out the circumstances, allow me to tell you something of what my life is like, before the stress began and leading up to where I find myself now. In all reality, I have one of the greatest and neatest businesses anyone could have. I travel all over the country helping businesses troubleshoot their problems, be they in the manufacturing, shipping, warehousing or sales aspects of their processes. Each task might require me to spend from a few days to something close to a month, living out of a suitcase but living in the nicest hotels and on their dime, so to speak. By this I mean that each company that hires me has to pay all my expenses while I'm there working with them, all of my transportation, food, lodging, etc. My home base is a really nice three-bedroom town house condo with a full basement and attached two-car garage, located in a small suburb of a fairly major city in the middle of the country and which will remain unnamed for the simple reason that I like my privacy. And, as I mentioned earlier, it's my own business and I accept contracts only if the work challenges and interests me. I am a sort-of business consultant with no real formal education in the field that instead applies simple common sense to perceived problems from a perspective outside of and distant from that of the current management teams I work with. Now to get back to the stress I mentioned earlier, in looking back now from today's perspective, it appears to me to have begun during a particularly rough flight home after a two-week job with a company on the west coast. The flight had entered into an especially rough storm and I suspect one that there was no way around for the flight crew who couldn't have enjoyed it any less than the passengers did, myself included. In addition to a lot of really heavy turbulence, I know the plane was hit by lightening at least twice and maybe more than that. One bolt in particular traveled through me and the other passengers and had all of us scared to death as it set our bodies tingling with its intensity. It was so hard a hit that the cabin was filled with ozone for a good ten minutes afterwards. Not until maybe two or three weeks had passed did I begin to realize that there might be some lingering after affects. While I have little time for an active social life due mainly to all the extensive travel I make, I do have a couple of female friends who live near me that I go out with occasionally when I'm home. It was while on one of these infrequent "dates" that my lady-friend that night said something I didn't think much of at the time but that came to mind after I had taken her home after our dinner date and was on my way home to my place where I was going to start getting ready for my next job that I was to leave for in two days. Her comment had been something to the effect that I seemed "softer and more calm" than I normally did when we were together. I thought little of the comment when she'd made it but for some reason, it came to mind on my way home but then promptly disappeared again until close to the end of the job as I was in my hotel room gathering my things together to pack up for the return flight home when I'd finished. I'd just gotten out of the shower and was, as usual, getting packed while still in my birthday suit. I'd noticed while showering that my chest had seemed more sensitive, albeit only slightly more than normal, but had put the thought aside thinking it a result of my being tired from all the effort I'd put forth the past couple of weeks. The most difficult part of my work is, after all, convincing a reluctant management team to implement my suggestions. Diplomacy can be trying, to be sure, and that is a major part of what I do once I've fully analyzed my client's problems and come up with the solution. Having no new jobs scheduled for nearly a month, I had a lot of time on my hands when I returned home; time to spend unwinding and just having some fun for a change. The past two years have been pretty hectic as I've gone from daylight to dusk getting this business started and off on the right foot. Since it's summer now, my plan is to spend a lot of time at the pool trying to swim off some of my slightly expanded waistline that is a side effect off too much hotel and fancy restaurant food these past couple of years. So it was that the morning after I returned home, I went looking for my swimming suit that I've not worn or used for far too long. Finally finding it buried way back in back of the bottom drawer of my dresser; I went to take a shower before putting it on and walking over to the pool. Here again, I experienced this inexplicable increased sensitivity of my chest, centered for some reason around my pectoral muscles. When I got out of the shower, I stopped in front of the mirror above the bathroom sink to take a closer look and see if I might be able to discern why. Damn, looks like I need to start working out again, my pecs look kind of flabby and loose. But most interestingly and curious is that the area around my nipples looks to be a bit wider than usual, as though this part of me has expanded somewhat, maybe a quarter inch or so. Oh well, it could be it's just my imagination. When I got home after a couple of hours at the pool, I'm kind of beat but see there's a message on my answering machine and hitting the button, hear the voice of one of my female friends, Kelly who lives across town from me who called to ask me out to dinner tonight. Returning her call, I explain I just got back from the pool and will let her know what time, etc., after I've taken a nap. After a quick shower to get rid of the chlorine from the pool, I jump into bed and quickly fall asleep. About two hours later, I wake up again and call Kelly back to set a time and find out where we're going. That night I think I was the most relaxed I've been in a long time and even Kelly notices, mentioning it to me when I walk her to her door. I told her I had a lot of fun with her and we set a date for the upcoming weekend, something I rarely have a chance to do with me gone so much. After a very relaxing and enjoyable, albeit sans income "vacation" during which I'd gone out with all my lady friends at least three times, I was ready to get back into the swing of things. My first "job" was scheduled for at least three weeks and more likely a full month if not more so I had to pack two bags for it, one carry-on and the other to be checked in. As I fold my things and start putting them into my suitcases, I think of something Jeri said last night, she too had mentioned how much "softer and calmer" I seemed to be with her. Strange that she would use terms so similar to, if not identical with what Kelly had said almost a month ago. It was when I was about halfway through this trip that I first noticed what seemed especially worrisome if my observations were correct, my dick had shrunk. Shrunk from it's normal 6 or so inches to just over 5". Strange, very strange. And to top this off, that part of my chest I mentioned before has seemingly continued to widen, or expand. That part of my otherwise very male nipples was now almost two inches in diameter and starting to look almost feminine in size. Otherwise, I felt just fine and after thinking briefly about maybe seeing a doctor, put the thought aside until and if it gets much worse. As I packed to head home again, with a week between this job and the next, I briefly think about calling one of the girls when I get home but decide to wait until tomorrow, after a good night's sleep. I want to start making a record of these annoying and slightly troubling changes I'm experiencing, just for my own information and to see just how extensive they may end up being. But to do this, I'll need the tape measure I have at home since I'm going to measure every darn part of me I can think of. Then I'll see what I'll do, if anything, in the way of trying to find out what's going on. During the next couple of months, the "problem" as I begun calling it, has continued its slow progression. My pecs now looked quite soft and almost flabby, with a somewhat pronounced gathering of excess flesh behind my wider nipples, my penis was now only about 4" long and my testicles have drawn up close to my body. In addition, I've lost some weight and height, about 20 lbs. and nearly 2". Most of the weight seems to be from my waistline as my pot has almost disappeared although some of it seems to have moved from my stomach to my hips and butt. I'm really starting to get concerned now and have an appointment to see a doctor when I get home tomorrow. After seeing the doctor and suffering through the nearly innumerable tests she ran, I left knowing less than I did when I came to her office, confused as I was by the many thoughts of my condition she had expressed aloud. The testing she was having done will take a week or less to get the results back, just in time for me to return from my job next week; a fairly simple consult with a company seeking input on their expansion to a third production line that they wanted to operate with greater efficiency than their previous two. One more week of suffering caused by my not knowing what in hell is happening to me. Although, once I hear what is going on, I may not be over the hill as far as what I might still have lying in wait for me in the future. I have a scheduled dinner date tonight with Bethany, the third of my lady friends and the one I may be the closest to emotionally, and I might just unload my problems on her. I've sure as hell heard all about hers often enough so turn-about may just be fair play. She's been out of town, too, over the past several months but to help her sick Mother since she's the only child and all of her Mom's siblings have passed away. As the night progressed, however, the right opportunity never arose for me to tell her, we were just having too much fun together. Now I'm really confused! I just left the doctor's office where she went over the results of the tests she ran on me lest week and she has no real idea what's behind my "problem", nor does she know what course it's going to take. Seems there are some discrepancies in my hormonal balance and some of my other blood tests, but nothing sufficient for her to tell me what the hell's going on. I told her about the record I'm keeping of my measurements and she's asked me to bring them in so she can see them next time I have an office visit with her, in a month. Since I've been keeping them on a weekly basis, that's what I do as soon as I get home after seeing her, take my latest readings to add to the record. Damn! Another half-inch at least in every area, lost! My chest is down a full inch, my biceps .5", my waist another inch, but my hips have gained an inch and my ass .75". My thighs are the same but my calves have lost another .25" and to top it all off, my dick's a half-inch shorter, too. I weigh 5 lbs less and I've lost another inch in height. What the hell is happening to me? I think my face is changing too, it looks softer than I remember, as though all of my features are losing their rugged look. Damnit! I sure as hell hope someone can figure out what's happening to me, and soon. Yesterday, if not before would be nice. Well, two more nights alone until the weekend when at least I have a sort-of date with Kelly. The first night, tonight, I think I'll spend getting caught up on some backlogged paperwork and then maybe tomorrow I'll just sleep in and have a late lunch, early dinner someplace. I also have to get my laundry done before I head out on Sunday evening for the next job I have on my schedule, which is going to be a doozy, three weeks at least. May just do it during the day, the day after tomorrow and then get ready to take Kelly out. Home finally, I get all my stuff sorted out before I change from what I wore to see the doctor to just a pair of shorts to wear while I labor away at the desk and my computer. A couple of days later, while sitting with Kelly in a quiet corner of the nice restaurant we'd come to for dinner, she asks if she can ask me something personal. "Sure, we've known each other long enough for you to ask me almost anything, fire away." I tell her. "Are you taking hormones or something? Everything about you seems softer and less masculine. If so, don't worry, I'll understand. Please, tell me?" So I tell her everything I know and all about the strange changes that are happening to me, spilling my guts to her including all the fears that have been building up over the past few months. Kelly reaches across the table to place her hand on mine, curling her fingers under it to hold it tightly while saying, "Look, no matter what happens, no matter how hard it is for you to deal with this situation, now or in the future, I'm here for you, okay? Whatever it is, wherever it goes and wherever you end up, I'll be there, right beside you and helping you through it no matter what, okay?" For whatever reason, after I've taken Kelly home and I'm back at my place, I get ready for bed with a far more peaceful feeling than I've had in months. Kelly's assurance that she'll stick by me through whatever it is I'm going through has given me a sense of well-being and relief beyond what I would have expected, almost as though she's now become my kindred spirit in some way. I've been on this job for about week now and something new and different is happening to me all of a sudden; my hips hurt and I can't seem to get comfortable. It's actually more of an ache than it is a pain, kind of like what I would think having Arthritis might be like. Sitting, laying down or standing up makes no difference, they still ache. At least it's not so bad that I can't do what I came here to do but by the end of the day, I'm really whipped and usually settle for a quick meal in the hotel and then it's off to bed. Two days before the job ends, I'm bending over the bathroom sink brushing my teeth in the morning when some of what I have in my mouth goes down the wrong pipe and I start coughing. In the midst of it, I feel something go pop in my groin and only after it's over and I've recovered, do I discover what; my balls are gone. Not gone really, but seemingly they've pulled up inside of me and all that's left is a crinkled mass of empty skin that's all bunched up below what's left of my penis, all 2 inches of it. Suddenly and totally out of the blue, it comes to me... I changing into a girl... I mean, what else could it be? I'm losing height, weight, muscle mass and gaining inches where a guy shouldn't be gaining and losing from everywhere else. Now, with my balls gone and dick nearly so, what else am I to think? Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit! After all, with my balls now pulled up inside of me, my dick continuing to shrink, the way my chest looks right now and is continuing to change, my weight and height losses and all the changes my measurements indicate, what else can it be? But how? Why? And what's causing it? This is NUTS! With there seeming to be nothing I can do to stop or even slow this down, all I can do for the time being is concentrate on finishing each job, one at a time, in an effort to concentrate on something other than whatever it is that's happening to me. At the same time, though, during the evenings and away from work, I begin forming a plan that will hopefully deal with the seeming probability that I am turning into a girl. First on my list of things I'll have to deal with is how to keep my business going. Being a one-person shop, the best idea I can come up with is to start letting my clients know I'm thinking seriously of adding a female partner to help me expand. Next will be how to integrate this supposed new partner into my existing business in such a way that will facilitate her starting to do all the work without exposing my disappearance. I know I may be getting ahead of the problem with these plans but just in case my worst fears become reality I have to be ready for this possibility so I'll be able to keep things going and a roof over my head. As for my day-to-day existence; I decide to start paying attention to how women my age dress, what they wear that is currently fashionable, how they fix their hair, their makeup and so on, possibly even trying to read some of their magazines to begin trying to understand what really concerns them appearance-wise. Reaching the end of this project with continually aching hips, I head home gratefully for another week of sleeping in my own bed and time to see the doctor again, planning to express my suspicion of what's happening to me. Plus, she should have the results back by now from the last tests she took and they could either confirm or deny my fears. If they're so realized, I'll have to almost immediately begin making plans for my transition, telling my friends and asking them for help. This entire affair is so damned ironic... taking me from being a guy who loves and admires women for what they are, soft and cuddly creatures who are at times overly emotional to being one myself... son-of-a- bitch! Without a scale and not wishing to make marks on the doorjambs of whatever hotel I'm staying in, plus having forgotten my measuring tape this trip, the first thing I do when I get home is to update my records. As I'd expected, the changes have continued with ever-more dramatic results. I'm shorter, lighter and skinnier with bigger hips and butt and my chest is becoming ever more difficult to disguise as masculine with the flesh behind my now more feminine nipples and areola becoming much more obviously feminine. In addition to the fleshiness behind them, they're starting to form small, conically shaped protrusions that are, at least to me, obviously developing tits. To make it even worse, my nipples have become extremely sensitive and they hurt, too, almost painfully so. Hiding their darker coloration behind band-aids isn't going to work much longer either, their increasing size will eventually make this effort one of useless obfuscation. And then there is my crotch... empty though it's becoming. With no testicles and very nearly no penis left to fill my jockey shorts, it may turn out that the first item of women's clothing I wear will be panties. But then again, I may just be getting way ahead of myself here, let's not get too far into planning for this possibility or anything else until I know for sure. Even though it appears that everything points in this direction at the present time. There is one thing I am willing to admit to in all of this so far, in spite of what it means to my ever-decreasing sense of masculinity, the loss of my testicles when they pulled up inside of me has led to a far more comfortable crotch. To go from having to deal with a pair of balls so big that hung down so far from the rest of me that they were in the way most of the time to having none at all, is what I could almost describe as a relief. But I have to ask myself; am I obsessing on this possibility? Am I somehow wishing I do get turned into a girl, however perverse the concept might be? Is it just the thought of maybe entering into the seemingly secret world of the opposite sex that's so fascinating or is there more? If so, why does the concept also so disgust me? What is it about becoming female that is so foreign and so abhorrent that there are parts of me that so strongly hope this isn't the case? I had a few days before I see the doctor again, days I couldn't help but spend thinking about all the many potential ramifications of what she might found out from my last test results. And now here I sit in her waiting room waiting to be called in to see if she's gathered together enough evidence to have finally diagnosed what's really happening to me. When my name's finally called, I hobble into her office (my hips continuing to ache) to await her decision as to my fate. As is usually the case, the first thing she says is to ask for my little measurement record book which she then looks over, finally asking how I've been feeling. I tell her about my hips and she simply nods her head. Then I ask her about the test results and she says, "Well, I doubt you're going to like what I'm about to tell you but you have to know or at least suspect already; for whatever reason or cause we can't figure out, your body is changing. The last tests to check your hormonal levels are indicative and revealing at the same time, your physiology no longer appears to be producing testosterone and is instead producing all the hormones normally associated with those of a pubescent female. The genetic testing we've done since you first came to see me has shown a slow but definite change from XY to XX, male to female." "So what you're saying is that while you have no idea why or how, I'm turning into a woman?" I ask he bluntly. "Yes, that's exactly what's happening to you." She answers. "Can you give me any idea how long it will take? How soon I'll have to start changing my clothing, etc.?" "Honestly, no. Although the rate of change now appears to be slow but inexorable, this could change at any time. Do you have anyone who might help you through this, be with you or provide support?" "I have three friends I could ask." I tell her. "Do so, you're going to need their help making the adjustments you're going to have to face and deal with." "Understood. There is something you could do for me though, would it be possible for you to write a brief letter of explanation, something I might also be able to use to get all my identifications changed when it becomes necessary for me to do so?" "Yes, I can do that. I'll dictate such a letter later today and you could either pick it up tomorrow or I can have it mailed to you." "I'd think I'd prefer to pick it up, if that's okay? But please indicate in the letter that these changes are not of my choosing and are medically inexplicable although factual." "Yes, of course." Soon thereafter, having made my next appointment to see her again, I leave her office and head for the nearest bar to have a drink I need very badly right now, even though I've never been a drinker other than socially. Wouldn't you? Having heard what I just heard? When I get home the first thing I do is call Bethany and ask if she could come over tomorrow night for pizza, explaining I need to discuss something very serious with her. After we've agreed on the time, I hang up and go get undressed to take a shower before I decide what I'm going to do for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Knowing for sure, as difficult as it is to fully comprehend or internalize, that I'm in the process of changing from male to female, I decide it's time to do something I've been studiously avoiding, namely to take a good long look at myself in the mirror. Damn, one thing's for sure, there've been a lot more changes than I've wanted to admit. While my waistline's still not all that minimal, my former potbelly's completely gone. My arms and shoulders aren't anything like they used to be either, now they're almost skinny. But it's my hips that I can see the changes in most easily, they're huge compared to how they used to look. And my crotch... oh yeah... at least what's left of it. No more balls of course, and just the tiny little 1.5" that's left of my dick sticking almost straight out, like a small growth or something. And then we have my chest... it's obvious now, in spite of my having tried to dent it over the past few months, I am growing a pair of tits. And from the looks of what there is now, they have the definite potential of developing into a fairly respectable, if not sizeable pair of boobs. Heading on into the bathroom, I step into the shower after I've started and adjusted the water temperature while making sure the hard spray doesn't hit me directly on my chest, a lesson I learned the hard way when I showered in the hotel I was staying in two projects ago, my new boobs are just way too sensitive for such treatment. Once out of the shower and dried off, I put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and go on out to the kitchen to see what I can fix for dinner. Eventually choosing a microwave dinner, I take it out into the front room and settle down for a night of TV. I don't even remember what I watched, so absorbed was I in all the additional changes that are in store for me in the future and how greatly they will most definitely affect my life undoubtedly and most obviously forever and in ways I have yet to imagine. I don't even remember what I ate or when I finished it. About all I can remember is being almost unable to take my eyes off of the two small bumps sticking out from the front of my tee shirt and wondering all the while how large they would eventually become. Oh, and of thinking of the emptiness that already existed between my legs. What, I wonder, will having a girl's pussy feel like? What will it be like to wear hose and high heels, a bra... let alone skirts or dresses? And what of long hair? After having slept in past 10:00, I mess around the house until just after noon when I leave to go pick up the letter from my doctor. Thankfully, it's waiting for me at the receptionist's desk in a sealed envelope that I take home with me to open and read. On her letterhead of course, it reads: To whom it may concern, This letter is to certify that Mr. Tom Karston is under my care for a hormonal and genetic disorder of unknown origin or cause. The effect of this disorder is not of his choosing or desire and is causing him to change from male to female. Since this is a medical condition, albeit one of unknown cause, all courtesies and legal benefits are to be granted him/her under threat of civil legal recourse and the full penalty of all applicable criminal laws. Signed: Dr. Ruth Abernathy, M.D. Now to see how Bethany reacts tonight when I give her this to read. I sure hope she understands and is at least somewhat sympathetic; I'm going to need a lot of help from her and the other two girls if I'm going to make it through this transition and be able to keep my sanity in the process. Because Bethany and I have done the pizza thing many times in the past, I dress much the same as I have before; in a pair of jeans, a short-sleeved shirt and tennis shoes, what I consider lounge wear around the house. She shows up right on time, as is usual for her and after letting her in, I suggest we sit down at the kitchen table first, asking what she'd like to drink. She requests a coke, which I get two of and glasses, taking them to the table and sitting down across from her. I keep the mood light-hearted, joking with her, as is our wont most of the time, and then turning serious when I push the letter across the table and ask her to read it. The look of her face is priceless as she quickly reads the short missive and she remains quiet while she refolds it and puts it back in the envelope. When she's finally able to speak, I assume having gathered her thoughts, she says, "My god Tom, what are you going to do?" "Exactly what it says in the letter, Beth, I'm becoming one of you, a member of the sisterhood, a girl. And I'm going to need your help, lot's of it." In the process of stuttering out the next couple of questions, Bethany exhibits a lot of confusion and compassion and I realize I should start at the beginning, telling her almost step by step how this odyssey began and how I'd like her help as it approaches it's conclusion. When I've finished my story, I ask if she's hungry yet and when she says yes, I order the pizza. While waiting for it to get here, I tell her some of what I'd like her to do to help me, at least the things I've thought of so far. "Beth, I'll need your help learning women's fashions, then of course buying them. I'll have to learn about cosmetics and how they're applied, help with my mannerisms and gestures, actually with all the things that set women apart from men." "Well, we've been friends for far too long for me to refuse, Tom. When do you think you'll really have to know? Wait, that was awkwardly asked... try this instead... how long before you think you'll reach the point where you'll have to become female, clothing-wise?" "Well, it's really hard to say for sure but my guess is that based on how much I've changed so far, maybe two to three months tops." "Wow, I can see some changes in you already but that soon?" "Girl, you don't know the half of it, these clothes hide a lot." Explaining to her in words what changes have occurred already fails to satisfy Bethany's curiosity so she makes me promise her that after we've eaten the pizza we ordered, I'll actually let her see for herself. For whatever reason, the rest of the evening is even more relaxed than it is normally when we're together, the kidding more frequent and now touching on sexual matters much more frequently than we normally do, maybe because Beth is already trying her best to think of me as just another girl? After we've cleaned things up and disposed of the empty pizza box, Bethany drags me into the bedroom and makes me undress, excusing both of us from any embarrassment by telling me that I'll be just like her, a girl, soon enough, giggling as she says it. Stripping down to just my shorts, I let her look all she wants, in particular at my growing boobs, which she asks if she can touch. I've resisted touching them myself, mostly due to their increased sensitivity and the painfulness I've experienced in them but when she touches them in an almost caressing manner, I get the shock of my life... it feels wonderful and I let out a small, soft sigh of sheer pleasure. "Okay, enough of that, now off with those shorts." She says, grinning. Complying in spite of the embarrassment, I slide them down and off, stepping out of them. "Oh wow, you really are changing." She says in amazement. "Sit down on the bed and let me take a good look at you. That's it, now spread 'em for me, girl." She says, giggling again. Parting my legs as she asked, Bethany kneels between them and proceeds to touch and fondle me as she examines the changes that have already taken place. "Did you know your slit is already starting to take form?" she asks me. "No, really?" I respond. "Yeah. Do you have a hand mirror anywhere?" I tell her I think there's one in the top, left-hand drawer of my bureau. She gets up and goes over to it, opening the drawer and getting it out to bring back and hand to me, saying, "Now you hold it so you can see and I'll show you." Once I have it positioned so I can see, she points out how, just below what's left of my dick and back between my legs where I can't see without this mirror, there is a cleft forming between my legs. At this point, it's kind of hard to discern until she points it out but then I can see it, forming in the middle of what were my scrotal sacs and with the flesh on either side starting to fill out and get a bit puffy, forming what will be my outer labia. They're distinct from and protrude away from my actual crotch such that it appears they'll become fairly protrubent. "Tom, it looks to me like your penis is going to become your clitoris, for what it's worth." "Really? I wonder I that's a good thing or not." "Hey! Our clits serve a very good purpose, and they're something we girls have that men don't, an organ with no other purpose but for our sexual pleasure. Guys have to pee through their toys." She says, laughing heartily. Now that she's finished reassuring herself I really am changing, she tells me I can get dressed and we'll talk about what to do and where we go from here. Back out of the bedroom but now in my front room, we're sitting on my couch and facing each other. "Tom, all kidding and joking aside, let's get down to some of what you're going to need to do. First off, I think it's time you do two things right away; start shaving your legs and under your arms and second, to begin wearing panties. Now before you go off on me, listen up... panties will be a lot more comfortable as well as practical considering the configuration changes that have already occurred down there, and as to shaving... it's one of the prices we girls pay to look nice. If you know your hip and waist measurements I'll stop tomorrow on my way home from work and buy some for you, if not, let's take your measurements now." I get up without a word to go get my little record book for her, handing it to her saying, "I think you'll find what you need in here." "May I just borrow this, it would be easier than copying down what I need?" "Sure, but bring it back, my doctor looks at it every time I see her." We spend the rest of the evening discussing the things I'll have to do over the next couple of months as I make myself ready to assume the feminine role in life; learning about current fashions for women, practice wearing them, learning everything I can about makeup and how it's applied, changing all my gestures and mannerisms from male to female and so on ad infinitum. After looking at and discussing my work schedule, we talk about how and when I can take about a month off to allow me time to adjust as I assume my new place in life, and how to inform my clients. I explain to Bethany that I've already covered that aspect and how I'm going to take on a fictional partner to cover my change. After considerable discussion and almost getting into an argument about it, we agree that I'll do my next two projects (almost a month's work) then take the following two months off, maybe more and maybe less, to affect my transition completely. When we finally call it a night with the agreement to go window-shopping together tomorrow after she gets off work, we hug before parting for the night and Bethany has to giggle as we do. I ask her what's so funny and she says, "I can feel your boobs against mine." "Well, for what it's worth, I can feel yours, too", at which we both laugh aloud. The last thing we do before we part is kiss each other cheeks in typical female fashion. After a rather restless night, spent in thought and sometimes overly vivid dreams about my future and I dozed on and off, I'm awakened by the ringing of my phone. It's Bethany calling to tell me of a minor change of plan; we'll pick up the panties she was going to buy for me while we're at the mall, instead of her stopping first. Hanging the phone up, I glance at the clock on my nightstand and see it's almost noon already, time for this ole phart to get his butt out of bed, or is that this old girl to get her butt moving? Taking her advice a bit later while in the tub, I decide this is as good a time as any to start shaving my legs and underarms even though I still look more masculine than feminine. I know this isn't going to last all that long and besides, no one but Bethany and I will know I've done it anyway. After struggling through this very unfamiliar process with but a minor nick here and there, I finish washing and get out to dry off. Glancing down at my hairless legs, I notice that in addition to the total lack of hair, their overall shape and form is a lot more feminine now, the changes having affected them more than I'd thought and in fact, they're quite nicely shaped and almost kind of sexy, even if I say so myself. Knowing Bethany's going to insist I begin wearing panties, in the back of my mind is forming the idea that I might just go ahead and get a few more things to start wearing, too, like hose for instance. Pantyhose and maybe even a garter belt and stockings, just to begin getting used to them. But nothing else, not yet anyway, not until I lose some more inches in the waist because I'd just have to buy more when I do and that would be wasting money. As I get dressed, I wonder to myself what exactly is making this seemingly so easy for me to accept. Is it that I recognize the inevitability and have resigned myself to it? Is it possible that deep within the recesses of my mind this entire affair carries with it a certain mystique of sexual excitement? Or could it be that the idea of crossing over some invisible boundary has a certain aura of access to that which has been unattainable before now, a sense of entering into the previously forbidden? Is womanhood so mysterious, so mystical that in spite of living all my life as a man, the very thought of becoming female is exciting me such that I look forward to it? One thing I think is for sure is that if my change had taken place overnight, I'd have gone crazy. But as it is taking place, over time and slowly, I think it's granted me time to both accept and begin looking forward to my new life style. One thing's for certain, assuming I do begin wearing women's undergarments beneath my male clothing; it will be to constantly remind me of what I'm becoming. One question I've asked myself many times recently is will I miss being a man and of course the answer is yes but on the other hand, I'm kind of looking forward to discovering for myself what the advantages being a woman might have. For one are their clothes, which are so much sexier than a man's. Oh well, it's for sure that time will tell. Understanding that I'll not get Bethany's full help and cooperation if there's anything I'm not truthful about with her, I tell her about my decision to get some hose, etc. while we're shopping while on our way to the mall after she stopped by to pick me up after she got off work. She thinks it's a good idea and also suggests I get a couple of training bras, or maybe sports bras instead, just to start getting used to wearing them. I tell her of my reasoning to limit my purchases (my continuing changes) and she agrees but suggests we could stop by Wal*Mart when we're finished at the mall since their stuff is so much cheaper. I hesitate, telling her, "Maybe next time I'm home, in a couple of weeks. I'll have some additional changes under my belt by then and will likely be more amenable to adding stuff to my limited wardrobe by then." She agrees, saying she won't push me and if I feel she is at any time, to please say so. Once inside the mall, we walk up and down both sides slowly, looking at everything on display in all the store windows while Bethany comments on the materials and styles of everything feminine that's on display, beginning to teach me some of what I'm going to have to know. Then the fateful moments arrives and we actually enter one of the stores to start looking more closely and maybe make some of my initial purchases. I walk with Bethany into the misses department as she explains, "This is the size department where I buy most of my things and since we're about the same size, it's the best place to begin." Mostly I just watch as she pulls item after item off the racks and holds them up for me to see, telling me something about each article before she returns it to the rack. Skirts, blouses, tops, dresses, shorts... you name it and she showed several to me, teaching me something with each article of clothing she showed me. Then we make the final first move in the lingerie department where my education continues as she explains to me the various styles and cuts of all the panties they have on display. Which styles she wears for what reason, seamless so her panty line doesn't show under her tighter-fitting outfits, thong and more normal bikini's when she wants to feel sexy, hipsters for comfort and what she kiddingly calls "granny panties", the fully cut ones that settle high on the hips. I ask her why there are so many colors and patterns and she explains, "Girls like to feel pretty under even our sloppiest or plainest clothes." Even though I've decided on seamless hipsters as my first choice, I ask Bethany for her recommendation and she says, "I buy most of my lingerie elsewhere but the styles are all pretty much the same so for you, knowing what you do, I'd suggest either hipsters or the full-cut ones and I think cotton would be the best material for right now." I kiddingly ask where she gets her lingerie and she answers without hesitation, "Victoria's Secret, we'll go there later, when you're closer to having finished your changes, okay?" Next we look at what she calls training bras, actually bras with almost no cups and just some stretchy material to cover the breast area. Lastly, we look at garter belts and hosiery, again with her comments on what styles and colors are best suited to what circumstance of wear and how a girl's hose must match or blend with the color of her outfit. But because Bethany says this store doesn't sell the better lingerie that lasts longer and so on, I'd be best to wait until we find the right brands at the best prices. So it's on to the next and then the third store before Bethany says this is the right place to make my purchases... so now the moment has arrived. At her recommendation and suggestion, I pick out a dozen or so pair of panties, enough to cover my needs for the longer trip of the two projects I have scheduled before my time off. Then I pick out two garter belts and four pair of stockings to go with them and about a dozen pair of panty hose, which Bethany explains a girl should change each day, just like their panties. Three training bras complete my purchases for this initial shopping spree and we head back to my place so I can change before we go someplace for a late dinner. Strange though it may seem, I'm actually looking forward to wearing these things. I have to admit, just putting these things on for the first time was quite exciting even though I felt foolish and like I was cross-dressing. The sung fit against my crotch of the panties was nice and even rather comforting. The pantyhose Bethany suggested I wear first were kind of hard to get on but they felt wonderful around my legs, almost massaging them with each step I took. The bra she made me wear was, on the other hand, almost a nuisance and even though it was only mildly tight around my chest, the constant constriction is going to require some major getting used to on my part. And since the bra straps would show through my shirt, I had to wear a sport coat to hide them. No big deal with the sport coat since I always wear one or a suit while working but it's more the idea than the act. By the end of the evening, around midnight, I'd pretty much forgotten I had them all on as the discussions between me and Bethany had been far ranging and a lot of fun. As we headed home to my place, I tell her I have two more people to tell about my "predicament" and that I'd call her before I left on my next project and when I return. By the time the next two nights have passed, both Kelly and Jeri have seen the letter from my doctor and asked me all the questions they could each think of, ending up as Bethany is, fully supportive and ready to help in any way they can. Jeri had also extracted a promise from me, that all four of us get together when I get back from this trip so we could all get to know each other and figure out how each of them could be the most help to me. Kelly was, I think, the most excited and thrilled about my change, maybe because she's gay and sees me as a potential new lover, which might not be all that bad an idea. My return home a couple of weeks later brought with it all the changes that had taken place while I was away, some of which were fairly major. First among the many; I can no longer stand to relieve myself. Luckily, my discovery of this change took place one morning while I was getting ready to go down to the coffee shop for breakfast prior to leaving the hotel to see my client. I had just gotten out of bed and gone into the bathroom to take my morning leak, reached down to aim the little stub of my penis, found it missing and let go accidentally, pissing myself down the inside of both my legs before I could stop the flow. Damnit, I though to myself, now I have to clean up the mess and myself, as I turned around and sat down to finish relieving myself. Taking a small wad of toilet paper, I dried my crotch off with it and then reached down to explore. "Well, well, well," I thought aloud, then silently I said, "my dick's completely gone but there's no vaginal canal down there yet, just my little pee hole." I'll have to be sure to remember to use a stall to take a leak now, no more standing in front of a urinal. After I had cleaned up the mess I'd made, I went before the sink to brush my teeth and see if I needed to shave this morning. You see, one beneficial side-effect of this has been that my beard has gotten continually lighter with each passing day and I've only had to shave maybe once a week or less. As to the other changes I came home with; my breasts have really grown in the past two weeks and I'm past these training bras capacity, maybe needing to get into wearing A-cup bras now. I've lost another couple of inches from my waistline and it's starting to give me more of a figure now. Also my hips have stopped aching so the width and shape of my pelvis must have stopped it's alteration, too. And then there are my feet, I've had to stuff toilet tissue into my shoes or wear two pair of socks to keep them from slipping off, my feet must have started getting smaller now, too. Since I've been letting my hair grow out, starting right after I learned for sure from the doctor about what was happening to me, it's gotten long enough that I've had to pull it back into a man's pony-tail, you know... the kind where's the hair is gathered up low against the neck instead of being worn high? I think the timing of my planned two months off is going to work out about right; another month from today would really be stretching my ability to continue looking like a guy. However, it's going to take some real effort and help from the girls to make me the least bit presentable as a girl. Since my flight came in mid-day this time, I call Bethany at work from the airport and ask her to come over to my place as soon as she gets off, explaining I have to tell her about the changes that have occurred since I was gone. Plus, with only two days between projects this time, there's not a lot of time available for me to waste with the preparation I still have to do and the need to get new bras. This last trip is to see a old, long-time client who are selling their business to a large conglomerate and wanted to see me one last time personally and to help them get ready for the final walk through of their plant with the buyers. I've just gotten out of the tub from shaving my legs and cleaning up from the trip when I hear what I hope is Bethany at the door. It is and I let her in with the towel wrapped around me the way girls do it, around my upper torso and above my budding breasts. Smiling at me, Bethany gives me a big hug, whispering into my ear, "Let me see?" Figuring why the hell not, I step away and undo the towel, letting it fall away. "Oh Tom, you look terrific. You've really changed a lot in the past couple of weeks." "You think so? Wait till I tell you what else. But let me put something on first, go get a couple of Cokes out for us, okay? While I get dressed?" When I return to the living room wearing just a pair of old shorts and a T-shirt without a bra. I sit down facing her on the couch and tell her about my "accident" in the bathroom at the hotel. She laughs aloud and says, "Welcome to the Royal Society of Squatters, sweetie." I then tell her of the other changes I've experienced and she agrees I need new bras so I return to the bedroom to changes clothes again and it's off we go to the mall. We stop to get something to eat after being at the mall, and then head home as I have tons of stuff to do before I leave again in two days. Luckily, this final trip was a short one as my changing looks are starting to draw attention. My facial features have changed a lot now, as I'm looking more feminine with a sharper but softer chin and noticeably high cheekbones as I've continued losing weight. In addition to this minor problem, my height loss is really starting to be noticed in how my suits fit, the cuffs on my pants dropping over my shoes and starting to drag on the floor. There's not much doubt about it, this will have to be my last project as a guy without me buying all new suits and pants. But, that's not the wardrobe change I'm going to make, as you know. My flight home, long as it was since it's cross-country, is a scary one knowing that all aspects of my life will change drastically soon after I get home. Having arrived on the red-eye flight, I wait until the next day to call all the girls to let them know I'm home and ready to begin the final transition, asking if each of them will be free starting tomorrow morning, Saturday, to come over to my place and start the make-over they've all been talking about. Overall, my measurements have remained pretty steady for the past two weeks at 36-25-37 so I think it's now safe for me to get serious about buy a whole new wardrobe, something I'm going to need a lot of help doing. So, as the girls arrive one by one, I tell them this and they all say almost in unison that before we go shopping, I need some work done first. I knew something to this effect was up when each of them came in carrying a small suitcase or something similar to one. How little I knew what all these three had in mind, but I soon found out. Although they're all three wearing jeans and tops of one sort or another, they make me strip down to just my bra and panties, sitting me down in a kitchen chair one of them brought into the bedroom. Then, while Jeri goes to work on my hair, Bethany and Kelly get busy with my hands and fingernails, filing and shaping my nails before they apply stick-on nails, which they glue directly onto my real ones. Then they file these and apply a bright red polish to them before starting in with my toes, filing and shaping them and polishing them as well. Now the Jeri has my hair up in curlers, they start plucking my eyebrows to give them some shape and definition as they explain what they're doing. Then, it Bethany's turn to apply some makeup to my face, only a little bit, she explains, since girls don't usually wear much away from work and during the day. All she says she's going to use is some eye color, mascara, eyeliner, a bit of blush and of course, lipstick. Only after she's done and Jeri's brushed my hair out do they let me see the new me in the mirror. Oh my gawd, the change is remarkable! It's hard to believe that's really me reflected in the mirror, I'm downright out and out pretty! What a change just some makeup and having my eyebrows plucked and shaped has made, plus my hair of course. Then Kelly, the closest of the three to my height and weight, opens her small suitcase from which she gets out a couple pair of jeans and two or three tops as well as a pair of pink girl's sneakers and socks. "Try the jeans on first to see which of them fits best, then we'll pick out a top for you to wear." She says. The first pair is too loose to suit them but the fit of the second pair is just right they say, after I've had to struggle just a bit to get into them. For the top I'm to wear, they pick out one that's almost like a man's undershirt, with shoulder straps almost wide enough to hide my bra straps under but which is just stretchy enough to make my still small boobs quite obvious. Then, after a couple of hours working on my gestures and mannerisms, it's out for breakfast we go, my very first time to appear in public as the woman I've almost completely become. One thing's for sure, with these three really attractive girls in accompaniment, no one's going to pay much attention to me. Jeri even brought a purse for me to put my things in and carry, which is good since there's no way in hell I could fit anything into the pockets of these jeans, they're altogether too tight. In the early stages of this, my first as a girl, it's a bit difficult most of the time for me to feel like I really fit in but as the morning progressed and then moved on into the afternoon, I almost forgot I'd ever been anything but female. Most of this was due to being with the three girls all day, shopping for my new clothes and going from one dressing room into another tying them all on. I think the two highlights of the day were having my ears pierced which I had to be talked into doing and then the two whole hours we all spent in Victoria's Secret where I was tempted to buy everything in sight. Thanks heavens there were four of us because by the time we called it a day, we each had at least one bag in each hand and all of it was mine. I had one big bag with nothing but shoes in it, for heavens sakes. When we all got back to my place, we had a clothes party where the three of them tossed all of my old clothes, which I was never going to wear again, into trash bags to be taken to Good Will or the nearest dumpster, then they helped me get everything hung up and put away. Tired as we are now, after spending the whole day shopping, we decided the night was too young to just end it so while Kelly and Bethany went to the store to get some beers and wine, Jeri and I called for pizza's and got the place ready for a girl's party night. While we waited for the girls to get back and the pizza to arrive, Jeri then suggested that on Monday she would drive me to the nearest BMV Office to get my driver's license changed so I can drive my car legally now that I've acknowledged my new gender by dressing appropriately. Once we began talking about my license, we began to come with all the other things I need to have changed from M to F, my S.S number, bank accounts, credit cards, etc., etc., etc. "Looks like we're going to have a busy day on Monday, doesn't it, girlfriend?" she asks, grinning at me.] "Yes, it does at that Jeri. I tried to think of everything in all of this but my ID's were one thing I completely overlooked, I must be a Blond." We both get a good laugh out of that line since Jeri is blond herself. Waking up the next morning with a splitting headache reminded me why I didn't normally drink very much, I can't handle it. But we had fun last night, oh... did we have fun. I had no idea women could be so downright filthy dirty raunchy when there are no men around. And they sure didn't treat me as one either, just as one of the girls. I had no idea, for instance that even straight girls like Jeri and Bethany get into playing lesbian games now and then, but they did, I mean we all did. Kissing and touching each other's breasts a lot, French kissing each other even more and slapping each other on the ass every chance we got. Now I have to recover and get this place cleaned up from last night's party so I can just relax for the rest of the day. Then I'm going to take a nice long, hot bubble bath and put on some of my sexy new lingerie to lounge around in. I experienced three big milestones during the next month and a half, my boobs reached their full size (36-D) and I had my first period. One week after my period ended, I had my first real lesbian experience when I asked Kelly to come spend the night with me. With all that behind me now, I sat down one evening and took stock of all I've been through and thought of where my life was now heading. On one hand and in some ways, I miss my old life. Being a man is a lot easier and far less complicated than being female. This is mostly due to all the stuff we girls have to do each and every day to maintain our appearance. Then there are all the clothes and accessories we have to have, the hair appointments and the time it takes for us to take care of our hair. On the other hand, the rewards are more than worth all the extra effort it takes. And the camaraderie between women is so very, very different that what it is between guys; we'll tell each other everything. I love the clothing, too, its all so pretty and so very sensual, especially all the pretty lingerie that I love so much. And of course, let us not forget the sex... oh yes, the lovely, glorious, wonderful sex. It's so much better for girls than it is for guys and believe me, I know. When I asked Kelly to spend the night with me a few days ago, she was thoughtful enough to have brought a few of her favorite toys along with her. Thus, thanks to her strap-on dildo, I have some idea what it feels like to be filled with something that's long, thick and hard. I know, I know, it's nothing like the real thing but I haven't had he courage to start dating yet so give me time, I will find out for myself soon enough and yes, I really do want to. As to how much I like or dislike my new self? I love being a girl, in spite of occasionally missing my old self now and then. I love my boobs, for instance. Times like this, when I'm sitting around at home, I often find myself absently playing with them. I love how they sit upon my chest, so proud and firm, yet so soft and jiggly when I move. And the size of my nipples... wow! They're not only surrounded by nice, wide areola but they're so thick and protrubent, especially when they're fully erect, that it's hard to hide them when I get a sudden chill. And I've become totally used to the emptiness between my legs, often wondering how in hell I ever stood having my male parts hanging from me there, seemingly always in the way. I'm still trying to get used to how wet I can get down there sometimes, especially when I see a good looking guy with a nice bulge in his pants or a girl I think is particularly sexy. I've become so used to wearing high-heeled shoes now that I rarely give a thought to how difficult it was at first. Having to sit down on a commode to pee can be a real pain in the butt some times but it's a small price when compared to what I see as the joy and reward of having this pretty little pussy of mine. Maybe I shouldn't mention this but since the night Kelly stayed with me and talked me into letting her shave me completely down there, I really love how it feels and looks now, even more than before. Back when I was still a man, I had always thought a woman's pussy was one of the most mysterious and beautiful parts of her body and now, with one of my own, I still think the same way. All in all, and in spite of all I had to go thorough to reach this point in my life, I am content now, maybe more so than at any time prior. Being female is very rewarding.