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Change Artists By Katherine Day Weller Chapter One: A Surprise For the first time in his 23 years of life, Marcus had a serious girl friend, and now she was inviting him to spend a weekend at her family's summerhouse at a grand lake in Wisconsin, not too far out of Chicago. It was to be a sort of coming out for him, and he would be meeting her family for the first time. Marcus was excited and flattered to be asked by D'Anna, but he was uneasy at the prospect of meeting her family. You see, Marcus considered himself a loser when it came to women; he was most shy around them, wasn't sure what to say or how to proceed to make love. Therefore, his experience in sex was limited to what he read and saw in movies or television; and, his personal action thus far had been to kiss D'Anna - quite tentatively - on their third date and to follow up with some fondling of her thighs and breasts several dates later. At 23, he was still a virgin, and, until D'Anna came along, he felt he likely would remain so for the rest of his life. And, what would her family think about him? Certainly, Marcus felt, they would find him unworthy for their pretty and talented daughter. Marcus felt he was inadequate himself for D'Anna, largely because he considered himself not much of a man physically. Marcus had been a chubby adolescent and as never lost that softness as he matured. He had lost weight and weighed about what he should for his 5' 9" height, but his physique was smooth and soft and fleshy. He had always been ashamed of his body and never liked to go shirtless, and, horrors, he would have to do that when they all went swimming. He wasn't much of a swimmer, either; chances are that D'Anna's family would all be great swimmers, having had a summerhouse. "Come and meet my family next weekend," D'Anna had said as they met for coffee at Benjamin's on Michigan Avenue. "You'll like them." D'Anna was taking classes at the Chicago Art Institute, eager for a life as an artist. Despite her North Shore society up-bringing, D'Anna had a Bohemian spirit, and wore full skirts and loose blouses. She wore hardly any makeup and her hair was long and usually brushed only haphazardly. D'Anna, however, violated one Bohemian trait; she always showered and washed her hair. Marcus considered D'Anna a beauty, which she was, about 5 feet, 5 inches tall, with a fair complexion, which sometimes gave her a pale, wan look. Perhaps, Marcus thought, she accepted his own substandard maleness due to her own lack of concern about looks. They met in an Art Institute class where they were teamed up for several projects. True to his ineptness with women, Marcus failed to act to ask her for a date, even though he was tempted and they got along so well as classmates. In fact, it was D'Anna herself who prompted their first "date," in asking him to attend an exhibition with her. D'Anna found Marcus a most interesting person. He had grown up in the near North Side of Chicago, being raised along with his two sisters, by a single, working mother. It was a tough neighborhood, and far different from her suburban home. D'Anna liked people who lived in the grit of the city, loved photographing their neighborhoods and painting the residents. Most of all D'Anna and Marcus talked and talked and talked. They talked politics and agreed that democracy was doomed; they talked religion and found that both had walked away from their Roman Catholic upbringing and were now agnostics; they talked strangely enough about women's fashions with a view that women were freer to express themselves than men. (They played a game, watching other women and trying to determine the kind of person they were, whether married and what kind of work they did, based on their clothes.) Both grew comfortable with each other; Marcus didn't press his sexual favors on D'Anna, and she didn't seem to mind. Truth be told. Marcus didn't know how to go about "putting the make" on a girl. "My brother, Dean, will be there with his girl friend, Dawn," she said they adjusted their book bags and coats to make room for another couple, jamming into the table crammed next to theirs. "Dean and Dawn, ain't that just too cute?" She grimaced. He laughed with her. "Dean's cool though, and so is she, if you don't hold their names against them," D'Anna said. It turned out Dean was a computer nerd with a great sense of humor. Marcus liked him the minute they met; Dean was slender and short, not much taller than his sister, and delicate of frame. His girl friend, Dawn, was easily his same height, and large boned, husky and a bit fleshy. She, too, had a most active sense of humor, and the two loved to upstage each other with quips, most of which were clever and in good taste. A most unlikely couple, Marcus thought. She called him, ironically, "Man Mountain Dean," in reference to a huge, muscular wrestler of a bygone age, and he called her his "little flower." They arrived at the lake home after supper on Friday night, and Marcus felt a reprieve that the swim would be postponed until Saturday. But, D'Anna's father, a vigorous, gregarious and outgoing man, had another idea. "Why don't you youngsters go in for a midnight dip? It's plenty warm." "Oh father," D'Anna said. "We'll make our own fun." She was obviously vexed with her father's interference, as well-meaning as it was. Marcus could sense there was tension between the two. It was clear, from what D'Anna had already told him, that she was not turning out quite as he would have liked. Her father was tall, well-groomed and obviously successful in his advertising agency in Chicago's Loop, and he had hoped for his daughter, D'Anna had told him, to shine at the debutante balls and sparkle at the country club. D'Anna certainly could have fulfilled that role; she was a sparkling, attractive young lady, but she chose rather to hide her beauty behind the full skirts and shrouds of a Bohemian artist. "My dad wanted me to be a debutante," she had told Marcus during one of their coffee shop chats. "He's really disappointed in me." "You certainly are pretty enough to be the queen of the ball," Marcus had said, surprising himself with his forwardness. "Don't care about that," she had replied. "That's so artificial." "And he would have wanted me to bring home the captain of the football team," she continued. "I could've, but Jason Binger was such a jerk." Marcus reflected back on that conversation. Was she bringing him to meet her parents just to spite them? Marcus knew he was no match for the "captain of the football team." D'Anna's father had greeted Marcus warmly enough, and had offered the four young people drinks, after they had gotten settled. He hadn't even sounded too upset when he asked what Marcus' father did, and Marcus had to stumble a reply. "My mom raised us; my dad's not around." "Oh, and where do you live?" "Around Wrigley Field," Marcus had answered. "Oh, bet you watch the Cubs a lot then," her father had prompted. Marcus had to admit he was not much of a ball fan; he did not admit that the main reason he didn't see Cubs games was that it was too expensive. It was a warm Wisconsin night, and the four young people left the house and wandered down to the dock; the stars shone bright, since there was no moon. As they left the house, he overheard D'Anna's father say to his mother, "Can't she bring home a boy who is going to amount to something?" "Now, Charles," her mother had replied. "He seems like a nice boy. . . . very polite. And you can see they're comfortable together." Whether D'Anna heard the remark, Marcus wasn't sure. He didn't ask, and she didn't bring it up. "Your folks seem nice," Marcus ventured as the four sat on the doc. Marcus and D'Anna sat on the bench at the end of the pier, and Dawn and Dean sat on the pier itself, their legs folded under them, leaning close and touching. Marcus put his arm around D'Anna as they looked across the water. There was a gentle breeze, and he began massaging her arm. D'Anna snuggled closer to him, turning her body toward him and placing her head on his shoulder. She kissed his neck gently, and caressed his arm. They snuggled with each other, and kissed lightly, saying nothing. The silence was broken by Dean, who cackled: "The last one to find the little dipper has to jump in the water with clothes on." "Dean, you goose," D'Anna said to her brother. "You're spoiling the mood here." And she began caressing Marcus more vigorously, and Marcus was becoming seriously aroused. She massaged his arm, finally saying: "Gosh, you're soft there," referring to his arm. "It's like a girl's arm." Marcus stiffened his arm, making a small muscle, and she smiled at him. "Oh that's better." It was embarrassing, Marcus thought. She was right; his arm was soft like a girl's, and even though he had worked hard in the warehouse, he never seemed to build his body up sufficiently. They said no more about it, kissed voraciously and caressed each other, before going to bed, the men to Dean's room; he had a large double bed, and the two said they didn't mind sleeping together. The young women shared D'Anna's bed that night. As they lay there in their nighties, D'Anna said suddenly: "You know, I like Marcus, but I don't think he's 'man' enough for my dad." "Only Arnold Schwartzenegger would be 'man' enough for him," Dawn responded. "Besides, I think Marcus is cool." "Marcus has had a tough life, but he's so sensitive. I like that in a boy," D'Anna added. "But I do wish he had a more manly body." Dawn laughed. "You mean like your brother? I call him 'Man Mountain Dean,' and he calls me, 'Little Flower.' We're the 'odd couple.'" "Yeh, Dean is kind of a wimp." In their room, Dean was already in bed, watching Marcus take off his shirt, as he was dressing for bed. Marcus had turned his back to Dean, so as not to expose the front of his body, and his soft breasts and belly. Dean, however, could not avoid looking at Marcus' smooth back, and narrow shoulders, and think: "What a pretty back and shoulders?" And, yes, he thought, Marcus did have arms like a girl, as his sister had said. But, then, so did he! "Don't mind my sister," Dean said. "She teases me, too, about my skinny arms." "Oh that didn't bother me," Marcus lied. "Sometimes she calls me 'Deanna,' her little sister. And then she wants to arm-wrestle. She's strong for a girl, so don't let her challenge you." "Well, I'm not much of a swimmer. Never had much chance growing up." "Me neither, and I had plenty of opportunity. My dad is really disappointed I never became a star quarterback or something." Marcus had marveled at Dean's body; it was like a girl's body, Marcus thought, as Dean was thin, smooth and almost tiny in bone structure. He was wearing a t-shirt and briefs in bed, and his legs had indeed been pretty. He, too, had narrow shoulders. As they lay together, not talking, both young men were thinking about the other. Dean was reflecting on Marcus' soft body, and Marcus, in turn, was intrigued by the slender-boned, smooth Dean. Neither said anything, and both soon went to sleep. The next day, D'Anna's parents returned to Chicago, where they were to attend a Saturday night Republican Party political reception. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," teased D'Anna's father, with a wink, as they prepared to leave. "Oh, daddy, you can be such a bore," D'Anna replied. 'We're adults," Dean added. The four spent the morning having breakfast, gathering on the patio for coffee and chatting in general. They were having a friendly time, and continued their conversations over lunch at an upscale boutique restaurant in the nearby resort town. The four were dressed in whites and pinks, all wearing shorts. Marcus mused that all four had pretty legs, smiling to himself. That afternoon, the weather was beautiful, warm and sunny. And, Marcus heard the words he dreaded: "Let's all go for a swim," D'Anna announced. "We gotta cool off." That meant Marcus had to show his body, with his soft breasts, slender shoulders and smooth arms. And Dean wasn't that pleased either. He didn't particularly like the water, and felt his slender body was most uninspiring. He knew both girls were better swimmers. Marcus walked to the beach, wearing a shirt over his trunks. "I burn easily," he said, which was true, but not the real reason he wore the shirt. "Last one in's a sissy," announced the athletic Dawn. And, she sprinted to the end of the pier, propelled by her sturdy tanned legs and executed a perfect flat dive into the cool water of the deep glacial lake. Before she could even yell out, "Come in, the water's great," D'Anna was executing her own dive into the water. Marcus, already stung by the embarrassment of having been teased about his girly arms, wasn't about to be a sissy. He removed the shirt he had worn and jumped in the cold water, wrapping his knees with his arms and hitting with an awkward splash. Not pretty, but he was in. When he recovered from the shock, he looked to see if Dean had joined him. He looked up and Dean was still standing at the end of the pier, his skinny arms holding himself and contemplating whether he should join them. "Dean's a sissy," yelled Dawn. "What else is new?" responded his sister, treading water. "He's the sissy of the family." "Aw come in," Marcus urged, shivering as he stood in some 5 ft of water. But, Dean just walked back to shore and sit in chair, finding a book he had brought along. He folded his legs up under him, Marcus noticed, as a girl would and wrapped his slim body in a large bath towel. He looked cute, Marcus thought. "Hey, forget him," D'Anna said, as she turned to swim out to the raft. Dawn was already headed there, and Marcus looked out to the raft. It's had to be a 50 foot swim, Marcus thought. He wasn't sure he could make it, but decided he had better at least try. Of course the girls made it in a breeze, and Marcus awkwardly moved his body toward the raft, using a combination breast stroke and "dog paddle," mixed in with a side stroke, while pausing at intervals to tread water and get his breath. He finally made it to the raft, finding the two girls sitting there in fetching fashion. He didn't see a ladder. "Just boost yourself up here," D'Anna said. Marcus thought, oh sure, easy for them to say. He rested his arms on the deck of the raft and began to try to lift himself out of the water, but could only get so far, his arms not strong enough for the chore. He then in a crude fashion tried to bring his right leg up to boost himself. "Here let us help you," said Dawn. And both grabbed his arms and pulled him up. "There you are," D'Anna said, wrapping her arms around him and massaging his body.. "Let me warm you up, love." "Thanks," Marcus said breathing hard. "Oooh, you're so cuddly," D'Anna said, rubbing his body into warmth. Despite her attention, Marcus was still smarting from his physical inability to duplicate the same muscular activity that the girls did. He was humiliated by the girls' strength and his own weaknesses. Meanwhile, Dean sat on the beach, wrapped up like a girl in his beach towel. The three sat on the raft for a while, before the girls suddenly got up and dove in the water; Marcus tried a dive, too, but ended up belly- flopping so hard it took his breath away. As he was recovering from the shock of the hit, he could hear the girls giggling. And they were making a quick swim to shore, too fast for him to keep up. They were out of the water in a flash, yelled something to Dean and bounded up the hill to the house. "They told us to stay down here for 10 minutes. They got a surprise for us," Dean said. Marcus was out of breath from his swim. His soft body was reddened from the cold water, and goose bumps covered his round breasts. "I think they're cooking up something," Dean said. "I don't trust that sister of mine. They were giggling as they ran up to the house." They waited for nearly half an hour before going up. Both boys enjoyed each other's company, and enjoyed a beer together. Entering the house, they announced: "We're back and we're going to change out of our wet suits." The girls didn't answer. "Oh, well, let's go to my room and change," Dean said. "Hey, the door's locked," Dean said when he got upstairs and tried to open the door. Laughter came from inside the room. "You can't come in here," said D'Anna ...and the two girls could be heard giggling. "Go to my room, both of you and you'll see the clothes you are supposed to wear." "What," Dean said. "Let us in." "No," Dawn added. "The clothes are laid out on D'Anna's bed for you two." "And you better wear those clothes and no other," D'Anna added. "They're perfect for you two." More giggling from within the room. "I don't trust those two," Dean said firmly as they entered D'Anna's room. D'Anna's room was a practical room for a young lady; a few bears and cuddly animals, and a frilly, pink cover for her bed. Otherwise, it could have been a young man's room, for it carried a few pennants for two local colleges, saluting girls' sports teams, and some of her own paintings. Two sets of young women's clothes were laid out neatly on the bed, one labeled in large letters on an 8 1/2 x ll inch sheet of paper, as "Marcia," and the other set similarly labeled, "Debbie." "Damn," said Dean. "these are the same clothes that the girls wore before they went swimming." "Yes, look at this," Marcus said, pointing to another sign on the bed: "Girls, put these clothes on and meet us in the family room. Let's have FUN!" "They mean us, we're the 'girls'?" "I'm going back to my room and demand they open up for us," Dean said. He left, and Marcus could hear him yelling at his sister, but he soon returned. "They won't budge in there," he said. "Well I suppose we have no choice." "You gotta be kidding," Marcus said. "That would be too much." "They won't open up, unless you wanna go and bust down the door and fight them for our clothes." Having no choice, Marcus took off his swimming suit, and began to put on Dawn's clothes. He tried the panties first, looking at them and seeing a slight poopy track inside. "Ukky," he said, but they otherwise were clean and smelled slightly of her perfume. He was surprised that they fit well, particularly as the panties covered his feminine behind. The bra was a surprisingly lacy affair, and Dean assisted him in securing the straps. Marcus was again surprised; it fit him perfectly, holding his soft breasts neatly. "You really do have girly breasts," Dean said. "Same size as Dawn's." He glanced at himself in the mirror. He blushed, and was embarrassed. Then, he thought, not bad. He completed his outfit, a short skirt, pinkish in color, topped by a white sleeveless blouse, open at the neck. With his smooth arms and slender shoulders, Marcus fit the clothes perfectly. "Marcia, you're a beauty," Dean giggled. "What a girl!" Meanwhile Dean had put on his sister's clothes. They too were almost a perfect fit, except that he needed to fill out the bra with some stockings the girls had thoughtfully left for that purpose. He was outfitted in short shorts, and a halter, that highlighted his slender body. "You, too, Debbie," said Marcus looking at his friend. "You look like one hot girl." The two girls - that's what they were now - looked at each other. "Debbie, I feel so good. You know, I love being a girl." Debbie went into some girlish poses, exposing his truly magnificent legs, and nodded. "Me, too." "I always hated my body, but now as a girl, I love it," Marcia said. They rushed to hug each other, embracing warmly, rubbing their smooth soft bodies together. "What will the girls say?" Debbie asked. "They're such athletes. They'll just laugh." "Who cares?" Marcia said. --- "Look at the girls," said Dawn with glee as Debbie and Marcia came into the family room. "Hate to say it," D'Anna said, "but they're prettier than we are." "Aw come on," Debbie, still trying to be Dean, grunted. "You girls are mean." Dawn and D'Anna laughed. "Listen to these sissy girls, 'we're mean,'" D'Anna said, with a teasing sound in her voice. And finally, Debbie and Marcia noticed the other two were dressed in their male clothes. The two newly made-over girls giggled. "Ah we're switching sexes. Fun, eh?" Marcia said. "Yes," D'Anna said, "meet David," and she pointed to herself. And Dawn followed with: "Introducing Dennis." D'Anna, now David, explained that it was obvious that Marcus and Dean were really pretty much "sissies," and that they weren't much for doing "boy" things and that they were pretty unathletic. They also realized that both of them were more athletic and actually stronger than the two boys. "So we figured, let them become the girls they really are, and we'll be the boys," Dawn, now Dennis, said. "At least for the weekend." Marcus, now Marcia, looked at herself in a hallway mirror. "A most attractive girl," he thought to himself. Why couldn't he be a girl forever, he wondered. At the same time, Dean, now Debbie, was musing the same thoughts. They never made it as "boys," but they were something special as "girls." Chapter Two: Change Artists "I like the smell of your clothes," Dawn said to Marcus. "So manly." Marcus blushed a bit, and said sheepishly: "And your smell is so nice, too. I like the smell on me." The two had ventured out onto the porch, overlooking the lake: Marcus dressed in Dawn's pink and white summer outfit, and looking so much a girl, while Dawn was in his clothes, looking more like a man in the clothes than he ever had looked. Marcus was still uneasy about wearing Dawn's clothes. What would the neighbors think? And Dawn sensed his uneasiness and said: "Nobody's close enough to really notice us. From a distance, you look like a girl and me like a boy." When he had slipped Dawn's dress on, Marcus had looked in the mirror, and saw the dress had exposed his shoulders and arms, soft and pink and feminine. His weak arms looked so pretty and there was a hint of cleavage showing from the small mounds of flesh that formed his breasts. The dress ended in mid-thigh, and his smooth legs added to the feminine impression. D'Anna came out on the porch, wearing her brothers shorts and polo shirt. Marcus felt she looked so sexy in her male clothes. "Aren't you pretty this morning?" she said with glee to Marcus. She came up and kissed him, a kiss that continued as she caressed his arms, as she held him tightly. "I love you so much," she said, and his manhood began hardening. Marcus felt so warm and excited, and his penis pressed into D'Anna's hips , prompting D'Anna to state suddenly, "Oh, there's a boy under there after all." Marcus had never before been so sexually aroused in his life. It was so confusing; here he was dressed as a pretty girl and finding himself with strong desires of a man. "I love you, D'Anna, so much," he said as they embraced. Dawn said with a thinly veiled sarcasm: "Isn't this romantic?" Dennis joined them, already looking very much like 'Debbie,' wearing his sister's tight, low-cut denim shorts, and light purple tank top, with a stuffed bra underneath. He wore a gold cross necklace and his hair was flowing freely. "Oh my, it's Debbie," Dawn exclaimed. "Isn't she lovely?" Marcus withdrew from D'Anna and their kissing, amazed at what he saw. Dennis was even more convincingly a lovely girl than he had been last night. His sister's outfits fit so neatly on his slender, smooth legs and his narrow, pretty shoulders and arms. Dennis blushed, and then twirled about, modeling his new feminine self as the other three admired him as the pretty girl he had become before their eyes. They were standing on the open deck overlooking the lake, and any boater coming by in this magnificently warm and bright summer Sunday morning would look up and see four young ladies. One of the many grungy fishermen on the lake might stop and ogle, probably finding Dennis, now Deanna, arousing his sexual desires. And if he particularly liked softer, slightly chubby girls, he would probably be staring at Marcus, now Maria. Marcus felt so feminine at the moment, like he was "one of the girls." He felt embarrassed by all this; yet, he felt so excited and pleased with himself. Never had he felt so good about his body, recognizing that he could look like a lovely, desirable young woman. Finally he asked quietly: "Do you think we both look like girls? Could we fool others?" D'Anna answered quickly: "Oh my yes. You both look totally like girls." "And we could fix up your makeup a bit, and teach you how to walk like girls." Dawn continued. Dennis asked then: "Let's test this. Let's going into town today as four girl friends, and see if any guys hit on us." Marcus immediately protested: "Oh no! No! Are you for real?" "Yes, yes," chimed D'Anna and Dawn together. "Let's" "You know you both have such sweet, girlish bodies, that it'll be a cinch, except for your voices," Dawn said. "And we can do most of the talking," said D'Anna. "Yea," said Dennis. "We'll go as Marcia, Debbie, D'Anna and Dawn." Marcus felt a sick feeling and protested again, but to no avail. "Oh, what the hell," he finally said. "Let's have some fun." D'Anna said: "Great, Marcus . . . ah . . . Maria . . . let's make you pretty now," and she led him by the arm to her bedroom, where she had already laid out a skirt, sleeveless blouse and women's underthings. "Go on," she said. "Change into the panties now." He looked at her, wondering if she was going to leave the room. Marcus was still embarrassed to be seen nude, and he and D'Anna had not yet had sex. He felt so inadequate to be 23 years old and still a virgin. Besides, his penis was smaller than most boys. "That's OK," she finally said. "I won't look." "Thank you." "You're such a wimp. I don't why I love you so." He changed into the panties; they were pink and silky with lace trim across the top. He stood there, otherwise naked, and felt totally exposed and embarrassed. He folded his arms across his soft chest. D'Anna rushed over and hugged him, kneading his soft upper arms. "You look so cute," she said. "You're so white and smooth. You'll make a sweet girl." Marcus reddened, so ashamed at his unmanly body and that he was now to be made into a girl by his girl friend. "Do you really like me like this, D'Anna? Like a girl?" "I love you because who you are. Right now, I want you and I to be girl friends." She helped him put on a bra; it was a size 36B and it captured the mounds of flesh on his chest, and even created a cleavage. He looked in the mirror, seeing his smooth round shoulders, the bra holding in his breasts and a soft ball of a tummy, bottomed out with the pink panties. His thighs were chubby. "Oh god," he said. "I look like a fat girl." "When we get done, you'll look like a luscious girl. The guys in town will go nuts." The skirt was pink, flowing and layered, tapering off just above the knees. A light purple peasant blouse topped the outfit out, an open bodice showing just a hint of cleavage and the short puffed sleeves leaving his arms looking slender and soft. The skirt accentuated his already wide hips, and helped to lessen the impact of his tummy. D'Anna trimmed his eyebrows, and applied light eyeliner and shadow. She showed him how to apply a neutral, but glossy lipstick. For accessories, she gave him a necklace with a gold cross, an ankle bracelet and a wrist bracelet. She fashioned his hair; it was already long, light brown and fine. Finally, she was done, and she announced: "Meet Marcia." "What a lovely girl!" It was Dawn, entering the room and commenting on what she saw. "She's going to steal all the boys." Marcus couldn't believe his eyes. Looking back at him from the mirror was a young woman, a most pretty young woman with full lips, a sweet face and a soft, comely figure. He never had felt so good about is looks as he did now; he was a woman. He was at once frightened and exhilarated. He felt so marvelous about himself when he looked at the lovely young woman staring back at him out of the mirror. "Guess I'm Marcia now," he said. "Ok, Debbie's ready, too," said Dawn. "Let's go to town." Debbie, no longer Dean, was dressed in a denim mini skirt and pink sleeveless tee, with her hair brushed forward, flowing down both sides of her face; her slender body, cute behind and slender legs made her look like a teen age girl, although Debbie was 22. Both Debbie and Marcia began walking in smaller steps, with their backs erect, making their hips sway in a feminine fashion. The four girls - they were now all girls - made their way down the main street of Alpine Lake, now lined with boutiques, coffee shops, sports bars and upscale restaurants. The streets were crowded with young people, family groups and pairs of senior citizens, all strolling in the sparkling Wisconsin sunshine. "Did you see those boys look?" Dawn said. "And they were looking at Debbie and Marcia. Not me or you, D'Anna." They found a table at a crowded sidewalk coffee shop, and Marcia found herself pulling her skirt down, so as not to show her thighs. D'Anna stopped her, saying, "That's OK. You have lovely legs. Let them show." "Oh D'Anna," he said to her. "This is so exciting. I feel like a girl. Oh, you must think I'm weird." "No honey, I love Marcia. You are a girl today." She caressed his soft thighs under the table, as his penis grew hard. He was so thankful he had a small penis, so it would not protrude from the skirt. Their hands touched beneath the table, and she continued kneading the flesh of his inner thigh. "I love being Marcia," he confessed to D'Anna. "Oh and you make such a lovely Marcia," she added. It was like magic. All these years of being a boy, of being called a sissy, of being soft, of always being the last in his class in gym class, of being girly had been torture for him. Now, as Marcia, it was a homecoming to his - now her - real self. "D'Anna," came a booming voice. "Long time no see." Marcia and D'Anna looked up to see a towering young man, broad shoulders, his biceps and chest expanding the t-shirt he wore. "Jason, my gosh. It has been." "And who are these lovely girls with you?" he asked. She introduced the others, telling him they were girl friends from Chicago. He inquired whether she was still dating that boy in Chicago, and she responded, "Yes," explaining her boy friend (Marcus) was working this weekend and couldn't come to the lake. So, she added, it was a "girls' weekend." More small talk followed, with Dawn and D'Anna doing most of the talking. Finally, Jason looked directly at Marcia, saying, "I'd like to meet you again. You have any boyfriends?" D'Anna answered quickly, sparing Marcia the job of using her voice, still fairly masculine. "She's got friends in Chicago. And Jason, what about Nicole? Aren't you two engaged?" "I'm a free man now. We split in spring." Jason looked to Marcia, eyeing her with a bit more attention than the others. Marcia was uneasy with his stare and looked away, but she felt he was imagining her body as soft and luscious and ideal as a bedmate. "Honey," he said, looking at Marcia. "Well, I would sure love to see you; I get to Chicago often, and you are very nice." Marcia blushed, whispering, "Thank you, but I have a friend." Suddenly Marcia felt she wanted to be in the arms of this strong young man, laying her softness against his hard body, caressing his biceps and strong chest, and, my God, even kissing him. As Marcus, the thought would never have been abhorrent. But now, as Marcia, she was smitten. Her soft feminine body was her entry into womanhood. Jason left, and D'Anna must have noticed how excited Marcia had become. Marcia was flushed, and weak with desire, a desire that only comes from being a woman. "I think you're a regular flirt," D'Anna said to Marcia. "What did I tell you? You're driving the guys nuts." Debbie, too, had been the object of attention of another former friend of D'Anna, who stopped bye to say hello. Dawn and D'Anna both agreed their boy friends had become very desirable young ladies, and were drawing more looks than either of them. Perhaps even they were becoming jealous over their new girl friends. Marcia found herself beginning to walk and act more girlish, and loved the feeling that she had a lovely body, a body that others could enjoy. It was clear that Marcia was not a one-day wonder, and that she would appear as Marcia again, soft, sweet and feminine. Copyright 2005 by K-G Communications