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Remade and Reborn by His Servant Chapter 1. Introduction Hi, my name is George. Well, it was George. No, I think it will always be George. Oh, that's right, you don't know me. I'll have to tell you a little bit about myself. It all began before I was born. You see mom and dad loved each other very much. They got married and did what, well you know, married people do. Oops, maybe that's a little too far back. I'll go ahead and fast forward a bit to a time about two or three years ago. I was a young single engineer working at one of the larger companies here in town. I do electrical engineering work. I love making new gadgets and seeing them work. The pay is good too. A single guy can really sock away the cash if he's not trying to live it up. I wish I could tell you what I made, but my security clearance prevents me from that. Oh well, that's the nature of clearances. They get to learn everything about you, but you can't ever say anything about them. Well, I had them beat. There was one secret I had that I never let on. I don't think I ever told anybody about it. Not even my girlfriend Tracy. I met Tracy at a party thrown by our company. She had a date with one of my co-workers, Christopher. We were introduced. I was immediately taken with her, but since she was paying attention to her date, I didn't interfere. We had a nice time as a group and then went our separate ways. Her memory, though, kept intruding into my thoughts. Several weeks later, the party entered the conversation at work. I asked Chris, "How are things going with that attractive girl that was with you." (Doh, I had forgotten her name.) He replied, "Who, Tracy? Nowhere, we don't seem to have much in common." "I thought she was really nice." (Bingo, I won't forget this time.) "Too nice for my taste, if you know what I mean," Chris winked. "So you wouldn't mind if I gave her a call then ..." "Sure, I'll even give you her number. The two of you should get along fine," he replied. So I called her up. She remembered me favorably. We started going out. We did indeed get along. And she was a genuinely nice person. People called me a nice guy, but she was really nice. She seemed to really care about everybody. The best part was that she really cared about me and she wasn't afraid to tell me. We told each other lots of things. Our hopes and dreams. Our fears and regrets. I would sometimes go to visit her at her office where she ran a catering business. I would help out and do some of the 'guy' type stuff. I helped with things like constructing a trellis, rigging a decoration with lights, or helping to design a fountain. Over time I began to believe that I had figured her out. She learned lots about me of course. I could never talk about work. She accepted that. I also could never bring myself to mention the fact that I was also a transvestite. For as long as I could remember, I would dress up in women's clothing. Sometimes I would go out, maybe drive around in the car. If I was feeling adventuresome, I would stop at a gas station, get out and pump some gas. Going in to pay the attendant was always a bit scary. Being able to pay at the pump with a credit card is much safer. Mostly though, I would stay at home and revel in my finery. When I started going out with Tracy, my sideline activities dropped to nearly zero and I decided that I didn't need to do this anymore. I donated all my 'finery' to a charity. It didn't take though. After a while I found myself browsing in the lingerie department. I picked up a pretty bra and panty set. Well one thing led to another and my wardrobe once again swelled. Some time after we had been going out for a while, I figured it would be nice if Tracy and I did a bit more than hugging and kissing. I implied that we might get a little more intimate. She replied that we were intimate enough at this point. Somehow she would permit, and even enjoy, casual physical contact while gently and effectively rebuffing my sexually oriented touches. One night, while we were sitting together on my couch watching a movie, I came out and asked her, "Why don't we have sex?" "Because we're not married," she replied. "What's that got to do with it?" "I made a promise." "You made a promise?" I echoed doubtfully. "Yes, I promised God that I would do as he asked and only have sex with my husband." "He asked you?" Again I was doubtful. "Sure, in the Bible." "I thought the Bible was just full of a bunch of 'Thou shalt's' and 'Thou shalt nots'." "Well, most people read it that way. I prefer to think of it as God showing me His plan for my life." "Do you really believe all that God stuff?" "No," she said quietly, "I believe God." "It sounds like there's no way for me to talk you out of this promise, then. Is there?" "That's one of the things I love about you, George. You're a fast learner. No, there's no way. I love you, but I love Him more." "Wow," I marveled, "I knew you went to church all the time, but I never realized you were in this deep." Now it was her turn to ask a question, "Have you ever gone to church?" "Well, my mom used to drag me to church every week. It didn't take. When I went off to college, I stopped going." "Why?" "Well, it just didn't feel right. Everybody was all sweet, saying 'Hello, how are you?' and all; but most of the time it seemed like saccharine." I shuddered at the memory, "The pastor was the worst. Hypocritical is the word that comes to mind." "Why do you call them hypocritical?" "Well, it wasn't anything they said or did. It was just this crazy feeling I would get. Not from everybody, of course. I can't tell you how many times mom would tell me about something bad so-and-so did. Now that I think back. It was usually someone I got a funny feeling from." "Discernment," she whispered. "Huh? What'd you say?" "Oh, nothing. Say, why don't you come to my church once. You know, just to see if it feels the same as before." "Naw. I don't think so." We returned to watching the movie. After that evening, our relationship continued to grow. She was concerned that I would think less of her because of this. On the contrary, I actually acquired a newfound respect for her. One thing I began to notice though, and I don't know why I never noticed it before, was how she effortlessly included references to God into her everyday conversation. Even phrases as simple as 'bless you' or 'thank God' seemed heartfelt. I began to realize that she really meant them. I had always thought you said 'thank God' just to add emphases to your sentence. All this did nothing to cool my sexual desire. In the past, when I felt those desires, I would dress up. This time was no exception. I found myself directing my passion to observing women just as I had done in the past. I watched their movements to see how they walked, turned their head, or made the slightest feminine gesture. I would spend hours imitating, practicing in my apartment. I observed women's bodies - cataloging shapes, curves, Evaluating what I thought looked best, Comparing them to my body shape. I was working out how to make myself appear more feminine. I practiced wearing high heels, wobbling for what seemed like miles, practicing the swing of the hips, sitting down, standing up. Just turning around gracefully can be a challenge in heels. Sometimes I wore them so long that my feet screamed in agony, my legs ached and my hips hurt. I knew there wasn't much I could do with the hair on my head. I liked having my hair short. Some women are able to wear short hair and look good. I toyed with styles that I could have for every day and feminize with mousse and such when I dressed. They looked OK, but they did nothing for me. In the long run I knew I would want to get some wigs. When it came to the rest of my hair, I had a lot of work to do. I had way more body hair than I cared for. I'm no gorilla who has to shave his back, but my hair was dark. If it was blonde, I could live with it. As it was, I would need to shave everywhere if I really wanted to pass as a woman. There was one thing that required more practice than all of the others. I learned how to apply makeup. My first attempts came out looking like a child attacked me with a crayon. Over time, with perseverance, I was able to duplicate many of the looks I observed. I was still unhappy. All the makeup in the world would not hide the fact that my face was a man's face. I would have to find something to help. Chapter 2. My introduction to church "George, have you thought about coming with me to church some weekend?" asked Tracy quietly. I winced. "Oh, come on. Are you going to start badgering me about that?" "In all the time I've known you, have I ever badgered you about anything?" "Well." Long pause. "No, Not that I can remember anyway." I was quiet for a while longer. "To tell you the truth, I have given it some thought." "What have you been thinking?" I sighed. "I realize this is very important to you. I can see it would make you happy, so I imagine it wouldn't hurt to go once." I was a bit curious. She'd spoken about the people there and about helping out in the nursery. She said it was fun to play with the children, but mostly it was an opportunity for the ladies to gab. The funny thing was, unlike mom, she never had anything bad to say about any of the other ladies. She smiled and gave me a big hug, "Great!" she said. "How about if I pick you up next Sunday and we go together?" "Err." Another pause. "How about a week from Sunday?" In fact I was really planning on spending this weekend dressing up. I knew she had a big job on Saturday and was counting on two uninterrupted days. "Oh I suppose so," she replied. She sounded disappointed. "I know you have a big event Saturday and you're going to be very tired." "That's sweet of you to care. In fact, worshiping on Sunday morning helps me recover. I always feel less tired afterwards. Next week is fine. I look forward to it." "Yeah, it's a date," I said with a smirk. "But won't you be in the nursery?" "No, not that week. Besides I help out there at early service and then attend the late service. I'd still have time to come get you." "You're there for two services? Amazing." I was shaking my head in disbelief. "I told you it was a great place to visit," she said while attempting to stick her elbow into my ribs. I saw it coming and deftly evaded. "Ok, ok, I get the point," I said as I made a move to tickle her stomach. She jumped away laughing. I smiled and stopped. I really wanted to hug her but if I tried, she would just think I was still trying to tickle her and keep moving away. Yeah, I've done that before. I had something else on my mind. I asked, "What are you doing for Halloween?" "Hmm, let me think. I have an event. No, actually I have two events scheduled. Two very big clients who want to throw parties and won't take no for an answer. I'm going to have to call in some of my part time help to get both jobs done. Why do you ask?" "I got an e-mail from Frank the other day. He's planning to throw a costume party at his new house in the country. A big one from the way he talks." "He's got a new house in the country? He's done very well since you were together in college. Is he still asking you to come work for him?" "Yes. I just don't know if I want to design machines that manipulate germs. Whenever he asks, I ask him how things have been since the lobotomy." She smirked, "You still hate that he left engineering, don't you?" "Sure, we used to have way more to talk about. I think all he really cares about now is moving up in the company." "You said 'a big one'. Would that be a big house or a big party?" "Both. He doesn't do anything small." "I don't want you to miss the party. I'm really very sorry that I can't go. You try to have a good time without me." "Ok. I'll try," I replied with a fake pout. Perfect. Since I heard from Frank, a plan had been forming. What costume should I wear? Of course it would be feminine. What else could it be? I had so much work to do and there were only two months until the party. The following Sunday morning. Tracy arrived on time. I was ready. Actually I had been ready for quite a while. For some reason I was nervous and wasn't able to sleep in like I normally did. "Good morning. You look very nice," she said as I opened the door. "Thanks," I said while giving her a little kiss. I was wearing my only suit, the one I bought to wear at work for special customer visits. So far no one there had caught on. Tracy also looked very nice. She was wearing a peach dress that stopped above her knees while making your eyes keep going and going, all the way to the matching pumps. What beautiful legs. It had a V neck that didn't show too much cleavage. She topped it off with a cross on a necklace. I could sum it up in three words. Simple, casual, elegant. How she made it all happen, I don't know. During the drive over Tracy said, "The suit looks good, but it's not necessary. Very few of the guys wear suits. Most just wear a shirt and tie, or no tie. Now and then you even see jeans and a T-shirt." "Really?" "It's warm out, you could leave the jacket in the car if you're uncomfortable in it." "No thanks, I'm OK with it." I was a bit uncomfortable, but it wasn't the jacket. We got there a little bit early so we mostly hung out in the hallway. It was a bit overwhelming because it seemed like everybody had to say hi to Tracy. Then they had to know who I was. Then they all wanted to know something about me. Mostly it was how long I'd known Tracy. Sometimes it was where I was from. Sometimes it was what I did. Sometimes it was where I lived. All said 'welcome to our church'. It went on and on until the hall (they called it a narthex) was nearly empty and Tracy said we should find a seat. Well, her actual words were "Let's grab a pew before they're all gone." There was one thing I did notice though. It was the Women. Yeah, that's right, with a capital W. They were a lot younger than I remembered from going to church. In fact in my old church, most of them were retired with only a few young ones around. This place had many more young ones. They usually had a husband and maybe one or more little kids in tow. They were all dressed 'so fine'. Of course they didn't look as fine as my Tracy. I knew though I would have to come back again for some more 'research'. When we entered the sanctuary, there was a band playing a catchy tune. The music stopped right after we sat down and the preacher started talking. I suddenly realized, "Hey I met that guy just a little while ago in the hall." Tracy whispered back, "Pastor Mike likes to talk with the people before the service," she giggled, "Sometimes he doesn't make it up there in time." "He got the robe on real fast though." As I listened to him talk, I noticed a slightly different modulation in his voice. I decided it must be his preaching voice. I wasn't sure if I liked it. It went like this. He talked. We talked. A guy got up and read scriptures. The band played, we sang. The preacher gave a short monolog, then more singing, more talking, praying, more singing, announcements. Bang, we're done. It all just happened smooth and natural like. It was definitely not like I remembered. During the service I peeked at the back of the church. Yup it was there. I was so glad they weren't playing that organ today. As we were filing out, there were more introductions and more welcomes. Everybody wanted to shake hands with pastor Mike. Then there was more hanging out in the narthex. Most didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave. We finally got away. As we were walking out to the car, Tracy asked, "What did you think?" "Nice women," I replied absentmindedly. "George!" Her elbow got me that time. "I meant about the service." "Ouch. That was nice too. It was a pretty good show." "Oh you," she sighed. During the drive home she tried again, "Do you remember anything that was said?" "I heard a lot about sin, repentance, all that. The pastor's sermon was funny." "What about sin?" "I've heard it all before. We all sin. We're all forgiven. No big deal." "But it is a big deal. Tell me about the sermon." "Well, as I said, his jokes were funny. Some were a bit corny. I do remember he was describing ways to be nice to other people." "Oh that's what you got out of it? I heard his personal take on how we're supposed to love others as we love ourselves." "Why do that?" "Because Jesus says we should. Oh never mind. I heard you reciting the creed with us. Do you believe everything you said?" "The what?" "You know 'We believe in God the father ...'" I thought back. What'd we say? The father is God, creator, sustainer. Jesus is God and savior and he did a bunch of other stuff. Holy Spirit is God too. He's here now. "That's a lot of weird stuff. I'm not sure I do believe all that. With three people all being God, it's too much." "You're talking about the Trinity. It's deep stuff. Not even pastor Mike can explain it. It's OK to not say anything while we say it. I wouldn't ever want you to lie about your faith." "So why do you say it then?" "It was written a long time ago as a reminder to the faithful of what they believe. It's a summary, if you wish." "What if the summary is wrong?" "It's not. I know because we had a study on it. We were able to trace everything in it back to the Bible." "What if the Bible is wrong?" "That is a subject for another day. We're almost home. What do you want to do for lunch?" "Oh, I don't know. I'm usually sitting in my pajamas eating fruit loops right about now." "Since we're both dressed, how about if we stop at our favorite restaurant?" "They're open on sundays?" "Only in the afternoon. They go to church in the morning too." The conversation returned to more mundane things. We spent the afternoon together. Everything returned to normal. Maybe. Chapter 3. Popping the Question? During the next week I was distracted at work. I still had a lot to prepare for the big party and things that happened Sunday kept popping out of my memory. One thing I remembered was the women, of course. Normally my favorite place to 'research' women is at the mall. I would sit on a bench for hours watching people go by. My favorites were the teenage girls. They dressed to leave nothing to the imagination. I took full advantage. However, I had noticed that the women at the church had something extra. No, it wasn't just more clothing. I can't explain it, but the girls in the mall seemed to flatten out in my memory like they were two-dimensional. It kind of wierded me out. The other stuff about God would pop in now and then. But it was just too much to deal with so I would push it out. Somehow I made it through the week without destroying any hardware. We were starting checkout on a new board design we'd just gotten back from the PCB shop. I'm glad my design was fairly solid because my troubleshooting skills were approaching zero. I was thankful that Tracy didn't ask me to go to church again the next Sunday. I spent the weekend building hip and butt pads from a design I'd been working on. I had the right shape worked out from several prototypes I'd build so I was confident that this time would be perfect. You start with a block of foam rubber. Not too dense because then it's too hard and doesn't feel right when you run your hands along your body. You sketch out a rough shape in the foam and remove the parts that don't look right. You don't use a knife. You use a hot wire. A hot wire is a length of Nichrome wire stretched in a frame. You hook it up to a power supply and run current through it. Too little and it won't cut. Too much and it burns the foam and breaks easily. Once the pads were the right shape, I put them in pockets I had sewn into a lightweight girdle. I was lucky to find one that had a build in waist cincher. Having them together would reduce the number of seams. Seams create bulges. I got one that was a little small. That way the cincher would do a better job of squeezing my waist in and the tight material of the girdle would smooth and compress the foam. Once it was finished, I put it on and checked me out in the mirror. Wow. This is great. I just had to try it out with clothes. I threw on a bra and some forms, a slip, a blue dress, pantyhose, pumps (basic black). Again wow. I was immediately hot for myself. This dress looks so much better with a decent shape under it. I had to force myself back to business. I checked my shape thoroughly for puckers, bumps, bulges. I discovered that my waist bulged over the top of the cincher a little bit. No problem. I still have time to lose a few pounds before the party. I was getting out of shape anyway. It would take just a few hours per week of aerobics. I had a tape and I could use it as an excuse to wear my leotard and tights. I looked forward to it. By now it was late and Monday was coming up fast, so I regretfully put it all away and went to bed. Another week. It was rough trying to get any work done. The only bright spots were the time I spent with Tracy. She asked if I would go to church with her. I said yes. I found that I was kind of looking forward to it. Sunday morning we got there early again. This time it was 'Hi Tracy, hi George, welcome back'. When I wasn't talking, I watched. Of course I checked out what the women were wearing. I began to notice something else. It was as though they were all in one big family reunion. You know, when the whole family gets together and all the cousins have to catch up on what each other has been doing, telling jokes, etc. But, unlike some family reunions, this was a comfortable place to be. During the service it was the same as last time except all the words were changed. When I realized it was different, I started listening more closely to what was being said. I sang along a little. I was quiet during the creed. I still didn't buy into all that mumbo jumbo. There was more of the same after the service. Tracy took me to her place and made a nice lunch. She didn't ask me a lot of questions like the last time. We were sitting quietly on the couch digesting our lunch and enjoying each other's company when a strange thought came to me. "Tracy, we've never talked about marriage before. Why is that?" "Because you never brought it up, that's why." "I am now, what do you think?" "Well, I'm sort of wondering why you would mention it now." "I don't know. Maybe it's just that sitting here together is so nice that I might want to do it more often." "But we sit together a lot already, is today different?" "Maybe not. Maybe it was just seeing those families this morning. There seemed to be something special." "I have to admit that I like this too. I enjoy being able to spend my Sunday with you. It seems more ... complete. But I thought you said that the people at church were all saccharine?" "What? Oh yeah, my old church. Not these folks, well not most anyway. They seem more genuine, more ... alive for lack of a better word." "'Alive' sounds like a good word." "But back to the original subject. What do you think?" "Are you popping 'The Question'?" "No, I just need to know how you feel about it." "All right, I'll stop being evasive and tell you honestly what I feel," Pause, "I love you more than any man on Earth. I sincerely would not mind spending the rest of my life with you." "I hear that But coming already," I groaned. "Buuuutttt, God hasn't told me that you are the one I am to marry." "What! So you want to break it off then?" "No, he hasn't told me that either." "What's going on here? You're waiting for a god to tell you what to do with your life?" "I honestly don't know. I do trust God though. I'm learning to be patient. When he tells me what to do, it will be the right thing." "That's just crazy." "What about you? How do you feel about marriage?" "Up until a minute ago, I felt like I could be talked into it. But now, I don't know what to feel. It's like I'm cast adrift." "I know this is hard for you to talk about. Can you explain?" "Well, the way I see it, this is how most of the world works. Boy meets girl, boy dates girl, boy marries girl, boy and girl have kids. Ugh, I don't even like kids. They're like a weight you have to drag around for eighteen plus years." "I'm sorry you feel that way." "It's got to be better than sitting around waiting for a voice out of the blue to tell you what to do." I immediately regretted saying that. I felt her stiffen. "That hurts, George. Besides that's not how He works. Oh you wouldn't understand." "Look. I'm sorry for insulting your god. I understand enough to know he means a lot to you. Peace?" She gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek, "I forgive you, George." I hugged her back, "I do love you more than anyone else." The next week was harder. I saw Tracy several times. We didn't talk about anything serious. She seemed to be the same as always. It just felt as though a wall was being built between us. I didn't know how to break it down. She invited me to church the next Sunday. I said I could handle it. This time I offered to make lunch for her. "You cook?" "You cut me milady. Of course I cook. I've learned a few things in all the years I've been a bachelor." "I'm sorry. Tell me, what are you planning?" "Oh no. I won't spoil the surprise." In truth I had no idea what to cook for her. By Saturday I had it figured out. I'd cook lasagne. It's great for a single guy. You make it once and you have meals for a week. More if you go out once in a while. Sunday morning I was putting it in the oven just as she arrived at my place. I set the oven a little bit cooler because we wouldn't get home in time. I hoped it was enough to lengthen the cooking time but not enough to spoil it. After church when we were shaking hands with pastor Mike, he asked, "So when will I be marrying you two?" I flinched. He immediately said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that." I said, "It's ok. We haven't talked much about that." When we got back to my place, I made some garlic bread, pulled out a tossed salad and set out some wine. Tracy helped by setting the table. After she had prayed and tasted her first bite of lasagne, I asked, "What do you think?" "It's just perfect. This tastes wonderful. Maybe I could hire you on as a cook for catering." "Naw," I said, "it's fun cooking for two, but cooking for two hundred is way out of my league. Besides, I just followed the recipe." "For some people that's the hardest part." "I did have to lower the oven temperature otherwise it would have burned while we were gone." "You did splendidly. You've got a knack. That's for sure." During the week, pastor Mike called me up. He asked if he could come over so he could apologize properly for his inappropriate remark. I said OK. We would meet the next evening. The next night he came over and we got to talking about this and that. When I said I was an engineer, he said the church had lots of engineers. I would have no trouble finding someone to relate with. He eventually got to the point. He said, "This isn't the first time I've had to apologize to someone who goes to my church. I know it won't be the last. This is the first time I've made a crack like I did Sunday. I'm very sorry." "It's all right," I said. Now he really got to the point. "You said that Sunday as well, but I could tell you were holding something back. Could you share with me?" I figured why not, so I blurted out, "Last week I broached the subject, she said God hadn't told her to, I said I wasn't ready, I insulted her .. . god, we haven't talked about it since." "Wow," he said, "Good summary." "Yeah, well, I'm an engineer, I've learned to be concise." "When you insulted God, how did Tracy react?" "I could tell she was hurt so I apologized." "And." "She said she forgave me, but I don't really believe it. Now there seems to be something like a wall between us." He replied slowly, "I know Tracy and if she said she forgave you then she did. It's a dead issue, like it never happened." Pause. He continued, "Is it possible that this wall is one that you are building?" "Ouch. You don't pull your punches do you?" "Well," he replied, "from the little that I know about you I trust that you can handle it. I also trust that you won't hold back on me." Oh but I am, I thought. "We'll see," I said. "Now. About the insult, Tracy knows that God is big enough to handle a little insult. He's forgiven you as well." "You talk about him like he's real, like he's your friend or something." "What do you think about him?" "I don't know. Sometimes he seems real. Other times it seems just too preposterous to have some all powerful being in charge. If he is in charge, why are things so messed up?" "It's based on free will." "You mean like I can do whatever I want?" "Exactly, He allows us to choose to do things His way or our own way." "Are you implying that his way is the right way and everyone else's is wrong?" "You're a quick study. You're exactly right." "Tracy said I was a fast learner. Then, if there is a right way and a wrong way. How can we tell the difference?" "From this," he reached inside his coat and pulled out a Bible. He opened it, found a page and read, "There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death." "That sounds kind of harsh to me." "Yes, it may sound harsh. But when someone loves you, they care enough to tell you the truth. God loves you, he cares." "This is heavy, man. I don't know if I can handle more of this." "No problem. We can talk more later." He stayed for a while longer. We chatted about this and that. After he left, I noticed the bible was still there on the table. I picked it up. It was a cheap paper-covered job. There was no writing in it. It didn't look worn so it obviously wasn't the one he used. 'That sneaky son of a gun', I thought. I was tempted to throw it away. Instead I chucked it onto the end-table along with the other stuff already there. Chapter 4. Preparation for the party The next few weeks just flew past. Halloween fell on a Friday this year. I took vacation on Friday and Monday. I wanted to stretch this weekend out as long as I could. The week before the party happened like this. Monday I stopped at the wig store and picked up the wig I had custom ordered. They showed me the right way to put it on and how to put on the wig cap that keeps my own hair in order, how the wig goes on over that. The special precautions I would have to take because it was so long. When they got it on and they set me down in front of the mirror, I gasped. I was speechless. I turned my head this way and that I turned around and looked at it over my shoulder. It was positively gorgeous. I now had a very long mane of coppery hair that hung down almost to my waist. It was very wavy, just like I'd dreamed. It was the color of a brand-new penny and it had highlights that shimmered and shone in an enchanting way as I moved. "Thank you!" I gushed. "It's gorgeous!" They smiled and looked at each other. I wasn't the first guy who bought a wig from them. I wanted to wear it home so badly, but I took it off and boxed it up. They stuck in some pamphlets with extra instructions. I headed off. "Thank you, we hope you have a great party," they called after me as I left. Tuesday I picked up some supplies I would need. I was getting low on spirit gum and cloth tape. Sports tape is the best. It sticks well and conforms well to whatever you stick it to. It doesn't stretch, but it holds better than those that do stretch. One makes compromises. I obtained the spirit gum at a theatrical supply store. Party stores will have it at this time of the year, but it is of lower quality. When I got home, I got out a product I had found in a drug store. It was a lip plumper. According to the package, you have to put it on every day. It basically makes your lips fatter. My lips are a bit thin, so I thought there would be no harm in trying. I put some on. Wednesday I took the wig out of its box and put it on a stand. This was necessary to help keep it natural. While I was going through the box, I discovered a packet of dye. Attached to it was a note. 'This dye is safe for use on eyebrows and intimate areas if you follow the directions. Enjoy.' Sweet. They thought of everything. It matches the wig. I think I'll use this on my eyebrows. But wait, this is a permanent dye. What will people think when my eyebrows suddenly change color? Right now, who cares? On Thursday it was impossible to work. I was so excited and nervous about everything. As soon as possible, I scooted out and headed to the mall. I stopped at the earring store to have my ears pierced. I had to in order to be able to wear the earrings I had picked out. Once again, what if somebody noticed? Well, it was fashionable for men to wear earrings today, though not usually both ears. In fact the girl at the counter got it wrong. "I'm going to have to charge you for two earrings. We're out of the singles right now." "That's all right. I want both ears done." "Both? Ok, sit right here. Where on your ear would you like the hole?" "Centered on the lobe please." After cleaning my ears and her equipment, she stuck the stud and the back in a pliers, held it up to my ear and squeezed. There was a slight sting then I felt and heard a slight 'pop'. It was in. "You all right?" she asked. "Just fine." She walked around to the other side and repeated the process. Pop, the other was in. I paid and thanked her. I checked my watch. I had to hurry. I had an appointment at the salon. At the salon I had scheduled a full set of nail tips and a pedicure. They set me up in a booth toward the back behind a short partition. No doubt they also had men in before. "What color would you like?" "A golden color." She led me to a rack crammed full of bottles of nail polish. "The golds are low on the right." I picked out a gold with a slightly brassy look to it. I knew it would look good against my wig. "How long would you like them?" "About an inch and a half." "Are you sure? That's very long." "Very sure." Well actually I wasn't so sure. The nail tips I practiced with from the grocery store were under an inch. I figured I could adapt. We sat down. I took my shoes and socks off. One lady started in on my hands and another put my feet in a bucket of water with some solution in it. To soften the skin, they said. I tried not to watch as they ground on the surface of my nails. It was just something else to hide or explain. She finished putting the nails on one hand. I held it up before me marveling at the change. So feminine. She finished the other hand and started polishing. She put on a base coat, two coats of color, and a clear coat over it all. "Hold your hands under this, it speeds the drying process." Meanwhile, my feet were in good hands. After soaking they worked on the callouses, smoothing and shaping. They trimmed my toenails, shaping the cuticles. Then repeated the same painting operation with the same gold polish. After drying, they were both done. "Be careful. The polish might be a little soft yet," the girl said. "If the polish is soft, how can I put on my shoes and socks? Won't they smudge?" "I didn't think of that. Most girls wear sandals or slippers," she replied. I didn't think about it either, for that matter. "We could put them in a bag and you could go barefoot." I didn't relish that idea. "No thanks." "You could sit here for a few minutes more and wait for them to harden." "Ok. I'll do that." So I sat in the back trying to look casual with my bare feet and new nails. In fact I felt anything but casual, nervous and excited was more like it. I kept looking at my new nails from all angles, still marveling. The girl came back about every ten minutes to check on them. After about forty-five minutes, she declared them safe. I put on my shoes and socks. They turned out to be more of a challenge than I anticipated. After finally subduing my shoelaces, I went up to the cash register to pay. That was something I had thought of. I pulled some cash out of my shirt pocket and counted out the bill plus a tip. Out in the parking lot, I struggled in my pants pocket to reach my car keys. No matter what, they kept getting away. Finally I pulled on the fabric of the pocket. I pulled it out until the keys were visible. Then I was able to snag them and was on my way. When I got home, I laid out everything I would need to get ready tomorrow. Though it was early, I got ready for bed, set the alarm and tried to sleep. Friday morning I got up with the alarm. I was a little groggy from tossing all night. After a quick breakfast, I took a bath. After a half hour of soaking in the bubble bath, I started shaving and shaving and shaving. I started at my toes and worked my way upward. I had practiced this so I had it mostly worked out. Holding the razor was a challenge with my long nails. I finally worked out new angles on how to hold it. I shaved off everything except my eyebrows and head hair. Even my most intimate areas succumbed. There was no way I could tape them properly if there was hair down there. I used a fresh razor on my face and made sure I shaved extra close. Oops, the sideburns have got to go. Next I got out the dye package and, following the directions, applied the dye to my eyebrows. I then sat down at the kitchen table, propped a mirror up in front of me and started to work on my face. I started by applying a latex piece to change the shape slightly. In the movie business they call it an 'appliance'. It is a piece of latex rubber that is shaped like me in the back and shaped like I want it to be in the front. Making it is a straightforward operation. You pour latex into a mold that has a positive image of you clamped to a mold that has a negative of what you want. It's simple, right? Sure, it's just that making the molds is terrible. I won't get into that. The bottom line is that I finally have an appliance that does what I want. My appliance goes over my cheekbones, out to the side of my face, over the nose and tapers to nothing on my cheeks. I began by gluing it to my face with spirit gum. When I finally had it to the point where it wouldn't come loose, gap, or wrinkle when I smiled and moved my face, I began applying makeup, first some filler to smooth out the edges, then a foundation for color. I sat back to admire my handiwork. Not bad. My face is quite angular. A good-looking face for a guy, but that's not what I wanted. The appliance raised my cheekbones, rounded out the sides of my face and smoothed the bump on my nose. The net result was very feminine. I suddenly realized it was time to get the dye out. I rinsed it out and checked the mirror again. Wow. This just keeps getting better and better. Next I went to the toilet and then started taping. First, I taped up my scrotum to get my balls out of the way. Where'd they go? That's my little secret. Then I taped my member back between my legs. A criss- cross here, a little on the sides, a little over the top (bottom?) and viola, no bulge in front. The bonus here is I am still able to sit and pee. I'd need to take spare tape along if I had to do, you know, number two. That could get messy. It actually wasn't all that easy to finish taping. My nails kept getting in the way. I needed a sense of touch in them and a third hand to do this right. I was so frustrated when I finally finished. I slid on a pair of panties. It was just a simple red satin bikini. No one would see them, but I would know they were there. I put on the special girdle I had made. Then the breast forms. They were real beauties. Made with the same silicone in them as implants, they are designed for women with mastectomies. I had a tough time getting these. The sellers usually want some documentation of surgery. They're so untrusting. The forms would stay in place with a liberal application of the spirit gum. I taped them up until the gum was dry, then took off the tape and put on a halter bra. By the time I put the bra on, the forms had warmed to nearly my body temperature. I could barely tell I had them on, except for the way they pulled the skin of my chest with them as they moved. I had no trouble feeling them jiggle when I walked. They were a size C. I had wanted a larger size, but I felt the weight would be too much for the flimsy cage they were in. I have to point out here that using a glue to hold them up was a risky move because they weren't designed for it. However, the halter bra did not have enough leverage to hold them up. Next, I debated with myself. Do I put my clothes on before my makeup or after? Before and I run the risk of getting them dirty while applying makeup. After and I could mess up my makeup putting on the clothes. After. I can always retouch the makeup. I sat down to apply my makeup. Before the makeup I put in some colored contacts. I don't need glasses. These were the contacts you can get now at most optical departments in major stores. They turned my hazel eyes into a vivid green. The foundation was already done so I got started on the blush, then a little bit of highlighter under the eyes. Lighten the cheekbones slightly, then just the slightest amount of a deep red on the cheeks. The eyelids started with a dark green at the lashes and blended into a coppery color that almost matched the eyebrows. I only used a half ton of mascara. I didn't want to go overboard. Over it all I applied a dusting of a fine gold powder that extended down my neck. I finished it off with a deep burgundy lipstick. That plumping stuff I'd been putting on every day had actually started working. My lips looked slightly fuller. Now I could get dressed. A short slip under a high-waisted black leather skirt that came to about mid-thigh. It was about three inches longer that the girdle. Length enough to allow the skirt to ride up some, but not too much. I'd have to watch it. Then came a gold satin halter top with a keyhole front. The 'collar' of the top helped hide my Adam's apple. Oops, not yet. I need to put on the necklace first. Then the top went back on. I adjusted the cross on the necklace until it fell in the center of the keyhole. Yes, I admit it's just like the one Tracy wore the first Sunday we went to church together. I liked it so much I had to get one just like it. I topped it all off with my brand-new wig. It was another struggle. While I brushed it out, I was glad to be almost finished. Working in these nails could be quite the pain and quite painful, literally. I accidentally poked or scratched myself several times. The last things I put on were my sandals. All they were was a couple of straps and four inch heels on what seemed like a thin piece of cardboard. They were gold, of course. No stockings, they would only serve to hide the pedicure. My legs and feet looked fine. I'd seen worse on some women. I stood up, somewhat unsteadily, and admired my handiwork in the full length mirror in my bedroom. I had to admit that I was truly a knockout. A drop-dead gorgeous chick. As I moved, I could feel my hair sliding back and forth across my back. What a rush. Going backless and exposing my shoulders was a bit of a risk. They are a bit angular and bony. It was well worth it. Besides, I had a shawl to cover them if I chose. I went to my gold purse and started filling it with everything I thought I would need. Keys, license, cash, credit cards, Kleenex, lipstick, makeup, gold dust, directions to the party, throat spray, and tape. In the process I noticed I had forgotten my jewelry. I put a lady's watch on my right wrist and a charm bracelet on the left. The earrings were abstracted tigers formed out of gold wire. Last was a gold ankle bracelet. Checking the watch I realized I would probably arrive after the party started. Oh well, things took longer than usual. I threw the rest of my tools and things into an overnight bag I had packed with a change of clothing -- just in case. Frank had hinted that there might be enough room for me to stay overnight. I had already told Tracy I would be staying. Grabbing my purse and overnight bag and a shawl that matched my top, I headed out the door. More accurately I tried to sashay out the door. There was no way I could rush. The flimsy sandals and high heels forced me to concentrate only on walking. It got easier when I got a rhythm going and swung my hips back and forth, but sometimes that was just too much to think about. I stumbled several times on the way to the car. Once inside the car, I took off the sandals. Now I could go to the party. Chapter 5. The party and the drive home In the car, I got out the directions to Frank's house and headed out. I was very careful to obey all traffic laws. I didn't want getting pulled over to spice up my evening. Frank's house turned out to be two hours away. I drove down the highway, turned off at the right exit, followed the country roads that seemed to get narrower and narrower at each one I turned down. 'I feel like I'm driving around in circles,' I said to myself. His directions were true, though. I arrived without mishap. The cars in the lot and the music that escaped the house indicated the party was already ramping up pretty well. Before I got out of the car, I grubbed around in my purse for the throat spray. This was supposed to temporarily tighten up the muscles in my throat -- including my larynx. I'd tested it out and it did a fair job of making my falsetto more believable. I slid into the sandals again and snagged my purse and shawl. I got out of the car, arranged the shawl around my shoulders, straightened my skirt, took a deep breath, and headed in to make my grand entrance. The front walk was made of rough flagstones. It provided a real challenge for me on my tiny stilts. I finally made it to the front door and rang the bell. Some guy in a sailor suit opened it. "Is this Frank's house?" I asked. He barely heard me. He was concentrating on taking me in as thoroughly as he could. "Frank's on the back patio," he replied absentmindedly. "Thanks," I said as I thought, 'Score one.' "Forgot your costume?" he asked. "This IS my costume," I replied dropping out of my falsetto. "Oof," was the only thing that came out. 'This is going to be fun,' I thought as I sashayed through the front hall and into the living room. I was in no hurry to find Frank, so I wandered around a bit. I found a bar. It actually had a bartender. I ordered up a Margarita. A few minutes after I took my first sip, the buzz hit me. I realized I hadn't eaten anything since this morning. I picked up the margarita and headed out to find some food. I suddenly discovered I needed another hand as my shawl slipped off one shoulder. Oops. I'm holding a margarita now. I put it back down, took the shawl off and folded it over the arm with my purse. I meandered around a bit, sipping my margarita and checking out the costumes. I didn't see anyone I knew. I imagined that every guy was checking me out. I thought I caught a few of the women checking me out too. They were probably just sizing up the competition. I spied the buffet table in the next room and headed for it. There was a clump of people near the doorway. "Excuse me," I said as I tried to squeeze past. They probably didn't even hear me over the music. I got a thrill as my 'breast' brushed against the arm of the guy I was passing. I wondered if he did too. At the table I loaded up on snacks. It was a good spread with lots of high class food. I couldn't help but compare it to the spreads that Tracy put on for parties. Carrying the glass and the plate, I pressed my elbow against my side to make sure my shawl didn't slide off and headed off to find a place to chow down. I found myself out on the patio. I located an empty table, set my dishes on it, and settled into the chair. I soon learned that because of the high heels, the backs of my knees didn't touch the chair. With nothing to hold my knees still, they soon stood apart. Crossing my legs didn't help. That was uncomfortable. I finally solved it by sliding my feet under the chair and crossing my ankles. As I felt the rough surface of the patio against my feet, I briefly wondered if I was damaging the polish on my toes. I also wondered whether these actions, which appear so feminine and dainty, are built into women or if they all have to learn them. There were so many things to worry about. I smoothed my skirt and began to address the snacks. As I nibbled, I noticed Frank across the pool. He was working his way around, making sure he talked to everybody. He was wearing a British revolutionary war army uniform and had his hat tucked under his arm. I couldn't identify the rank. The Brits must have changed them a lot in the last two hundred years. I waited patiently for him to work his way around the pool. I idly noticed the row of lipstick marks I was making around the rim of the glass as I turned it to get fresh salt. That is so cool. While I was waiting, I played with my hair, touched up my lipstick, checked to make sure my top was straight, and generally admired myself. As Frank approached the table, I stood up to meet him. 'About time too,' I thought. My food was almost gone. Once I had his attention, I said, "Hi Frank." He stopped, looked me over again and said, "I know you, don't I?" "That's right. You do know me," I replied. "When did we meet?" he asked. "It was a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away." His eyes widened, "George?" "In the flesh, as it were," I said as I dropped back to my normal voice. I made a note to refresh my throat spray soon. "George." He stepped forward and crushed me to himself in a big bear hug. "It's good to see you again." He let me go and I stepped back unsteadily. He caught my arms to steady me. I was so unprepared for all those sensations. Amid it all I was worried that he might have broken the glue on my boobs. He said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken you by surprise like that." "It's OK," I replied. "These heels take some getting used to. It's good to see you too." "Nice costume." "Thanks. You're looking dapper in your uniform." "Oh, this old thing? Come, let's sit and talk for a while." I sat, repeating the process I had learned earlier. Frank gestured something to somebody and shortly a margarita appeared in front of each of us. He sat across from me. "I'm sorry your new girlfriend couldn't make it." "Yeah, me too. Catering means that you work while everybody else is playing. It can be a pain sometimes." Frank leaned forward, "I assumed this was a costume because your girlfriend didn't sound like the lesbian type." "It's strictly temporary. I thought I'd try something different this time." "I don't know." He sounded very skeptical. "You've done too fine a job for this to be just 'something different'." "You know me. If something is worth doing, it's worth doing right," I bluffed. "Ok, uncle. You did do a very good job, though," he slid his chair around to get closer. "Those are silicone, right?" he asked, pointing to my breasts. "Of course. Nothing's better." "Do you mind if I touch?" "I suppose so." He reached out and pressed his fingers against my left breast. He then stroked it lightly as if to caress me. "Do you feel that?" "Only indirectly," I replied. "The silicone vibrates slightly and the back bulges slightly against my chest." He squeezed suddenly and let go, sitting back. "Frank!" I yelped. "Don't break the seal. If you do, then I'll have to find somewhere to go and fix myself." "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to damage you. Do you have spare parts?" "I brought enough along for simple repairs. I'm worried more about the glue coming loose than breaking the form." "Well, I should watch myself anyway. It wouldn't do for word to get out that I'm mauling a woman in public." He winked. "But aren't you a bit tall for a gal?" "A little bit." I really hadn't thought about that before. With these shoes on I guess I would be more than six feet. "I've seen taller gals." As a guy at five feet ten inches, I was about average. As a woman in heels, I would seem to tower over almost everybody. "So. What have you been working on lately?" I took a sip from my margarita. "You know I can't tell you. We've been through all that already. I'm still designing and testing boards. You're not trying to help me escape all that again are you?" "No, I wouldn't try to do that," he said with another wink. "I know you love what you're doing. It's just that we've got a few systems engineering positions open and you seem to have engineered up quite a system here." "Sorry, can't help you." "You can't blame a guy for asking though." "What have you been working on lately?" "Oh just managing a couple of projects. We're trying to implement some nano technology into a practical system. I shouldn't be telling you this either. We're developing nano-bots that can work on a cellular level." "That sounds like really cool stuff. How's it going?" "Well, it's all preliminary. We should be able to produce something useful in a couple of years," he sighed. The conversation drifted off to a bit of reminiscing until somebody came and interrupted him with an urgent problem at the bar. It was something about running out of bourbon. He excused himself and said he would be back later and that meanwhile I should mingle. It was getting chilly out here, so I picked up my things and headed inside. I wanted to freshen up. I decided to explore the house first so I wandered down a hall away from the music. I paused to examine this and that, admiring the decor. 'You've really done well for yourself,' I thought. Upstairs I found an empty bathroom. Before I could sit on the toilet, I had to take down my girdle. I had discovered one of the drawbacks of an all-in-one undergarment. You have to take off half your clothes to get it off. But then, I wasn't wearing that much anyway. I took off my skirt and slip. I undid the cincher and slid the whole thing down. I slid my panties down and sat. After peeing, I stood, wiped my backside and restored the clothing. I stood before the mirror for a final adjustment then leaned forward to examine my makeup. I checked to make sure my appliance had not come loose. I touched up a few spots that had smudged and freshened my lipstick. Ok. The lipstick didn't really need freshening. I just did it because it was fun. I then took down my halter top and examined my breasts. The spirit gum had let loose in a few spots so I dabbed some in and hoped it would dry properly. I redid the top, squirted some of the spray on my throat, did a final once over and was ready to go. I picked up my things and resumed my self-guided tour. I finished up and headed back to the living room to refill my margarita. That accomplished, I wandered around listening to conversations and saying hi to people. Sometimes the guys I met would hit on me. Depending on my mood at the moment or some other whim, I would either lead him on for a while or drop back to normal voice and 'blow my cover'. This invariably livened up the conversation. I was in a group that was talking about some insignificant thing like it was the most important thing in the world. I don't even remember what it was anymore. As I continued to listen and yet another margarita went down, something strange started to happen. The people I was looking at seemed to sort of flatten out. They became somewhat two- dimensional. I dropped out of the group I was in and started to wander around again. It was no great loss. It seemed that all the people I met were a bit flat. I was beginning to get a bit disturbed by the unreality of it all when I bumped into a guy who didn't seem flat like the others. "Oops. Excuse me. I wasn't watching where I was going." "Hi. What were you watching?" he replied. I responded with, "Can you believe this party?" "What's wrong with it?" "It just seems so unreal." "Then you should fit right in." "Oh, you know this is just a costume then?" "I overheard a while ago when you were talking to that group over there," he said with a gesture. Dropping back to normal voice, I probed with, "You don't seem to fit in." "I'm just here with my wife. She works with Frank. Yes, that voice fits much better." "Oh, I'm a friend of his from college." "Very nice," he pointed to my necklace. "Uh, thanks." "What does it mean to you?" "The necklace. I got it because my girlfriend had one like it. I thought it was cute." "I meant the cross." I picked it up off my chest and looked at it. I figured out what he was driving at. It was more than just a decoration, or was it? Suddenly I didn't know what to say. "I'm not sure," I stammered. "You might want to try and find out," he replied with a slight smile. "What does it mean to your girlfriend?" "I'm not sure," I stammered again. "You might want to find that out as well." "Have a nice party," he said as he turned to go. I stood and watched him walk over and put his arm around his wife. He turned and gave me a pleasant smile. I dropped the cross and felt it fall against my chest. I was in a daze as I wandered around some more. The party was starting to thin out as some new sensations came to my attention. My feet hurt! My calves and thighs ached. My hips were sore. My back ached from holding up these boobs. Suddenly I wanted to be anywhere but here. I sought out Frank and said my goodbyes. He tried to get me to stay the night, saying he had lots of spare bedrooms. I wouldn't have any of it. At the front door, he kissed me on the cheek as if I were an old girlfriend. I pulled my shawl around me, thanked him for everything and headed for the car. I left his place and began retracing my route. It must have been the drink because I missed a turn and got lost. I finally retraced my steps back to the route. Suddenly the car started to sputter and shake. Oh, no. I can't deal with car trouble now! I pulled over to the side of the road and the car died. I tried again and again, but the car wouldn't start. I figured that rather than run the battery down I should get out and try to flag somebody down or walk to the next house. I wished I had a cell phone. As I turned to take off my seat belt, I saw a strange light over the trees across the field and I blacked out. ... I came to ... There was something hard pressing against my forehead. I lifted my head up and looked. It was the steering wheel. I was tired and groggy and I hurt all over. I tried the car. It started. Somehow, I made it to the highway. Somehow, the highway became my parking lot. Somehow I staggered into my apartment and plopped on the bed. I went to sleep. Chapter 6. Waking up the next morning When I awoke, it was light. I woke up slowly. Slowly, throbbing entered my senses. Slowly the feeling of having a head entered my senses. It was throbbing. Slowly the feeling of having arms and legs entered my senses. They were throbbing. Slowly the feeling of a bed against my face entered my senses. It throbbed too. Ever so slowly the feeling of pressure on my chest entered my senses. It was throbbing. "Ooooohhhh," came a groan. I never got undressed. I'd better get these things off or I'm going to hurt more when I do take them off. I remembered what the tape and the spirit gum did to skin when I left them on too long. I dragged myself off the bed and staggered to the bathroom. I fumbled with the buttons on my top. They were behind my neck. The halter bra was easier. The lower straps crossed at my back and clasped at my belly. I pulled the top down far enough to get at the bra clasp. I undid it, pulled the bra away from me, leaned forward, grabbed my right breast form at the base and pulled it away. It didn't come loose. It always comes loose. It peels up from the edge. I looked down. Something wasn't right. It looked like a breast. It looked like a real breast! I suddenly realized my breast was feeling my hand. It was grasping a real breast! I tore the bra the rest of the way off and looked in the mirror. I had breasts! "Eek!" I heard a squeal that was far too high pitched. My knees buckled and I fell heavily against the counter. After a few seconds the shock passed and I was able to stand again. I looked at my breasts again. I touched them. I slid my hands all around them as if to learn their full dimensions. The caresses felt so good. They seemed to be larger than the breast forms. I touched the nipples. That felt good. I pinched them. "Ow!" another squeal that was far too high escaped me. I looked up and saw my face in the mirror. It was the face I had made up last night. I leaned forward, my breasts jiggled. I searched for the seam where my appliance ended. I knew where it was. I scratched to encourage it to let loose. No dice. I touched my cheek bones. My breasts felt my arm. My cheek felt my fingers. That was wrong. I looked more closely at my face. It wasn't quite the same. The nose was smaller, straighter. My face was still angular, but it had softened, become more feminine. The lips were fuller, much fuller. The eyes seemed larger and slightly oriental. The irises were a brilliant green. 'Contacts,' I thought. I rinsed my hand and tried to grab the contact out, but only succeeded in poking myself in the eye. My breasts jiggled. 'Nuts. Well it can wait,' I thought. I noticed my hair. I pulled on the wig. It came off. My breasts jiggled. Whew. I had half-expected it to be real. I Pulled off the wig cap and fluffed my real hair. My breasts jiggled. It was slightly longer than it was yesterday. It was no longer brown. It was the same color as my wig. This is weird. I suddenly needed to see all of me. I pulled down on my top. The waist of the halter top was too small to go over my hips. My breasts jiggled. That's funny. I could get it over them before. I pulled it off over my head. It caught on my breasts, they flopped and jiggled. The satin sliding over them felt good. Aargh, am I going to constantly feel every little thing these boobs do and touch? I could go crazy! I tried to ignore them as I unzipped the skirt, pulled it down, then pulled down the slip. I stepped one foot out of them and kicked them aside with the other. I felt for the cincher to undo it. Nothing there. I looked down. All I had on were the red panties. With shaking hands I pulled down the panties. There was nothing there! I grabbed my crotch in a search for something, anything. There was no tape, no penis, no scrotum, no testicles. There was just a small, soft mound that opened at my touch to ... I staggered again, this time tripping on the panties that were around my ankles. I went down hard. I lay on the floor hyperventilating. As my breathing slowed, I rolled over onto my back. I began to realize that as my chest heaved, my breasts jiggled. "Aargh!" I screamed higher still. This is too much. I pulled up my knees and wrapped my arms around them. How long I lay on the floor, I can't remember. I think I heard the doorbell ring. It rang again. I lay there on the cold, hard floor, not feeling it, not feeling anything. I started coming to my senses. My brain actually started working again. I asked myself, 'What happened?' 'You're a girl.' 'No, I'm not.' 'You look like one.' 'I do, don't I.' 'This is what you wanted.' 'No, it isn't. Yes it is, but not forever. Change me back.' 'I don't think that's going to happen.' 'Change me back.' 'Stop being childish.' 'Change me back.' 'Deal with it.' 'What do I do now?' 'That's better. Start thinking about the future.' 'What's Tracy going to say?' 'I was thinking about