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Play with them all you want. My name was Karen Heath and this is the story of the most eventful days in my life. I don't expect you to believe me. I wouldn't believe this story either, but you can decide for yourself. It was Thursday night and Sylvia and I were ready to try the body swap spell we had been studying as part of our witch training. We both had been training for five years and were now deemed advanced enough in our powers and knowledge to learn this lesson. We were to practice tonight at Sylvia's house. Her husband was away on business for a week, so we had privacy at her house. At this Saturday's coven in the woods by my home, we were to show what we could do. I was a little apprehensive about this as if we were successful the spell could not be reversed for twelve hours. We both would have to go to each other's homes and spend the night as each other. It would be difficult to get together in the morning and so Friday after work was as soon as it would be practical to put ourselves back. Going to a strange job was preying on my mind. I had been married to Fred for about ten years and didn't like the idea of Sylvia sleeping with my husband, even if it was in my body. This was my main concern. I discussed this with her and she told me she understood and agreed to leave my spouse alone. If needed she could have the traditional headache. We could fake the flu if needed to get by at work. I was to work the spell tonight, and she would work it tomorrow to put us back. All this being worked out we took out the spell book that we had been studying. I opened the page and read the lines that I had already memorized. I plucked one of her hairs and one of mine and twisted them together. At the right point in the spell we sat down just to be safe. We were not sure if we would black out for a bit during the process. Then I tossed the hairs into the air. As they floated down I finished speaking the last few words. I braced myself as the hairs hit the ground. I wasn't sure if I was powerful enough for this advanced spell, and unsure of what it would feel like if it did work. Then I felt a very warm wind push me. Only a moment later the wind was gone, leaving as fast as it had started. I realized that I was now looking across the room at myself! I looked down and I was Sylvia! Sylvia's long curly blonde hair was spilling over my shoulders onto either side of my chest. We walked clumsily to the mirror and looked. We both just looked, unable to speak. After I don't know how long we stared before we started to move touching our new faces with our new hands. Eventually we were putting our hands on our hips and posing our new bodies. We both were a little unbalanced at first but worked it out quickly. Sylvia spoke first speaking with my voice, "Karen, why is your bra was so tight?" I didn't answer. It was unnerving to hear yourself ask you questions. I was very sensitive about my breasts. I didn't like them visible, and certainly I didn't like the attention they brought. I was a late bloomer, and there is nothing meaner than young girls in the locker room. I was teased endlessly for having nothing on my chest. When they finally did sprout it was very fast and of size and shape that boys appreciated. Boys looked at them and not me. All the boy's that wouldn't talk to me no matter how I tried to talk to them were suddenly around me. They were not interested in me before and only one thing had changed so I knew where their interest was. At one point I didn't want any more of this and started to wear sports bras that bound me up and flattened me as much as possible. If a man wanted to talk to me, I was willing. However, I was going to be certain he was interested in me and not my bosom. In time I met Fred, and we were always having fun. We were friends for a year before I allowed him to even see my chest. His eyes almost popped out of his head when he did see them. Even now, I don't like even him to touch them much. I looked at Sylvia in my body and said that is how I liked my bra to fit and said no more. Sylvia said it hurt and went into the restroom. When she returned she was braless and bouncing all over the place. She was shameless. I quickly instructed her to go back into the rest room and put the bra back on. In my body she represented me and I would not be seen that way. Reluctantly she agreed and returned to the bathroom. I took the opportunity to look at Sylvia's chest. I moved the hair away and unbuttoned her blouse. She was braless and was the flattest thing I had ever seen. Lucky girl, she was not bothered by those fatty tumors. I covered back up just as she started to return from the bathroom. We said we would meet here after work on Friday. Just as she was about to leave she told me about a worker that she hated, Frank. She went into more detail than I wanted to know but she asked me to stay away from him. She took my purse and car keys and left. I went to the bedroom as I was tired and started to change for bed. Just as I was about to put on a nightie I caught a glimpse of this body in the mirror. Well, curiosity grabbed me and I had to look. Sylvia was tall and lean, very lean. She lacked breasts but had a small tight rump. She also had a nice curve at her waist. I understood now why she always wore flowing clothes. It worked with her willowy figure. Enough of this I thought and put the nightie on. A half-hour after I had retired I was awoken by the telephone. After I said hello, a strange man's voice was calling me honey and telling me the business trip was ending sooner than anticipated. He would be home about noon on Saturday. It took me a minute to gather my wits and remember who I was supposed to be. I was about to tell him he had a wrong number when I realized it had to be Sylvia's husband. I felt lucky he didn't just show up at the door right with me in Sylvia's body. I didn't want to deal with that. With Sylvia's voice I told him that was great news and I missed him. I felt strange doing it, but I wanted to keep Sylvia's life on track. Sylvia and I both made it through work and I was at Sylvia's house when I heard my car drive up. She was late and I was not happy with this. When she entered the house right off I noticed she was braless again. She saw my stare at my bosom and said the bra just hurt too much. She said after work she took it off. I asked her how things went and she just said everything went as planned, but she had to stay at work later as she took longer to do my job than I did. She was a poor liar. I could smell second hand tobacco smoke on her and she appeared to be slightly tipsy. I was not going to swap back until the alcohol was out of my body's system. I though that getting angry just now was pointless, though I clearly was. I sent her to the shower to clean up. While she was showering I went through my purse to see if there were any bar receipts. I wanted to know where "I" had been seen like that. I didn't find any clues to where "I" had been. My bra was there though. I was putting things back in the purse and the last thing was my hairbrush. I had so much nervous anger I started to brush my current long blonde hair hard while I looked in the hall mirror. I let my anger go into the vigorous brushing. After I bit I stopped and focused on what to do. I wanted my body sober, dressed, and with me in it. I went to the bathroom, picked up all the smoke laden clothes added my bra to it and took them to the laundry. I would not put them on in the condition they were in. Once she was out of the bath wearing a bathrobe, I put a few cups of coffee into her and then forced her to drink several glasses of water to rehydrate my body. Sylvia said she had gone out with the girls from work for just one drink. Looking at my face she knew I didn't have any interest her explanations and she shut up. After this she was sober and quite somber. Perhaps she did only have one drink. Nonetheless I was going to be very late getting home. We talked about work so we could continue at work seamlessly from Friday. Eventually we sat down and she opened the spell book and did all the right things. Nothing happened, we didn't transfer back. At this point I was somewhat disturbed, but Sylvia didn't seem too bothered. This raised my concern another level. I didn't even take the book; I just did the incantation by memory. I in an instant I felt the hot wind and was myself again. Sylvia was clearly not powerful enough to perform this spell. I calmed some now that I was Karen again. I was tired from doing a strange job and then waiting around for her to return and the events around it. I said my good-byes and went home and to bed. My name was Fred Heath. I never believed in witchcraft or magic. After all, I was a rational man. Stories of magic, witchcraft, and the like are great fiction. At least that is what I used to think until this one incredible weekend. It was Saturday morning. I enjoyed Saturday mornings. There is no alarm to stab you in the ear; your wife is there rested and usually willing to be "friendly". I woke up on my own and saw her starting to stir as well. Today was the one Saturday a month she usually went off with her friends. She took Thursday evenings with her friends too. Even on Saturday, she didn't leave this early. She had been so hot two nights ago, I was sure that this morning was going to be even better. I sure was lucky to marry this gal. She was sweet, kind, affectionate, supportive, a helpmate, and a friend. She was great in the looks department though only I knew just how great. She was one conservative dresser. She only wore sports bras and always covered up. She didn't need to, her figure was fine. When I would hint at something more sensual her response was typically that it cut down on men hitting on her. I had to admit, she was right. This did make my life more relaxed. I didn't have to be the alpha male defending his territory all the time. On the down side she had never let me touch her perky 34 C's very long. Just as she hid them from others, she rationed my acces to them. Last Thursday night was different. I was watching TV when she came home from her weeknight with the girls, dropped her top and lost the unattractive sports bra. She walked over to me exaggerating the bounce deliberately. She put my face in the cleavage and started to slap my face alternating one tittie after the other. This was new, and frankly a long time coming. She still hadn't said a word. She stood erect and started to do a dance. I didn't need music, nor did she. She was working those boobs like crazy. She would rub them, push them together, and bounce them with her hands making sure I could see it all. I was afraid to blink for fear of missing even a second. Then she started to gyrate her hips and then thrust back and forth. After she dropped her skirt and panties, she returned to her gyrations. She even put one of her legs over my shoulder and then backed it off. I thought my woody was going to tear my fly apart. Then she put my left hand on her right breast and put the nipple of the left on my lips. Well, I could take a hint. I got more boob action in the first ten minutes of this than I had in ten years of marriage. She wouldn't let me not pay them attention. Even when we were finally positioning to making love, she would drag her breasts across my chest. Once together as the thrust make us close she would either press her mammaries into me or rub them so the nipples would touch my chest. When it was all over she looked through her drawers and asked me where her sexy night ware was. I just told her that she knew she returned everything remotely sexy I had bought her as she didn't like that sort of thing. She looked disappointed, and just returned to bed naked. I thought that this was odd, but was too spent to think about it. We both went to work the next morning without much comment. Friday night she had to run some errands and got home late. So this morning I was ready to start the tittie parade again. She started to stir again and I caressed her right breast through the sports bra. Well, Thursday was Thursday, and Saturday was Saturday. Whatever had gotten into her before was gone. She was back to her old self. I was confused, and started to kiss as we usually did. I made another failed attempt at the breasts. It was not the response I expected. What was I doing Thursday that I had forgotten today? On the next attempt she let me proceed. I was about to try to remove the sports bra when she started to mumble some words I couldn't make out. She pulled a hair out of my head, and one out of hers. She twisted them together. What kind of foreplay was that? She said a few nonsense words and then threw the two intertwined strands of hair into the air. This was too distracting; I stopped and just watched the strands slowly fall to the floor. I don't know what was getting into Fred. He knew how I felt about this. For ten years of marriage and years of dating he had always respected my feelings on this. Why just now he would do this I didn't know. After last night I was in no mood for dealing with a breast-crazed husband. I wanted to be left alone and I had to go to the coven. If he had to play with breasts I could arrange that without me being bothered. When the hair hit the floor, I felt a strong hot breeze for a second. Then the room looked like it had moved. I was on the wrong side of the bed. I had been confused since Thursday I thought. Then I heard my voice say, "Play with them all you want, I'll be back tonight." I didn't say anything, how could my voice have said that? I looked over to the other side of the bed and saw myself getting up! I must have been drugged. My voice said, " I am going to my Saturday meeting with the witches. I will be back tonight, amuse yourself until then." I loudly asked what was going on, but I sounded like my wife speaking. I froze for a few seconds and looked down. I was wearing that dumpy sports bra. I poked at it and my long fingers with long manicured painted nails could feel the simultaneous softness and firmness of a woman's breast. With both hands I grabbed each breast and I could feel them being cupped. I quickly pulled off the elastic binder that I had always found repulsive and watched the globular breasts stand proud after a little jiggling. The nipples were getting erect now that they were exposed. I just sat there, speechless. How could this be? As my body put on a shirt, my own voice asked why today I was so intent on breasts when I knew she didn't like it. Karen had to be in my body. I started to answer when there was a scream. Karen was putting on my pants and didn't put my penus to the side before closing the zipper on the fly. "It" was caught. I knew how that hurt. She slowly freed it and I would have laughed but was afraid how she would react. So I ignored the entire event. Again in Karen's voice, I told her that as she had insisted I play with them for hours on Thursday I thought today she would like it too. My own male eyes looked like fire was shooting out of them, and I saw my male body stiffen up. I could almost see my own neck hair stand on end. Suddenly I felt so vulnerable, so small, so frightened. Karen looked at me and she relaxed my male body. Karen must have known how I was feeling. If I was angry before it was ten times worse now. That Bitch, Sylvia not only had bounced my breasts all over the place drinking in a bar, but had screwed my husband! I wanted to kick both of their asses. I felt the hair on the back of my neck raise, the blood rise to my face. All the muscles in my body tensed up and my chest expanded. In spite of my anger with him, the look of innocence, fear, and vulnerability he displayed startled me. I found it disconcerting that I felt so much anger and power over someone I loved. I had to calm down and remember that he was blameless. I had to remember that my husband had passed my test when I propositioned him as Sylvia. Further he had no reason to believe he was not making love to me when he did it with the Bitch. It was my magic that had opened the door for this. I retrieved my purse and opened it. I laughed to myself. At this moment in time I didn't need a purse. I retrieved Fred's keys and wallet and put them in my pockets. Old habits die-hard; I grabbed my open purse and it spilled. I would need to leave the purse today, but I would put it away neat. I was putting everything back in the purse when I saw all the blonde hair on the brush. I would buy a new brush rather than use that again. My body was calmer now and it sat in the chair by the bed. Then Karen said, "Let me explain, you know that I have one Saturday a month and Thursday evenings with the Good Witches. This week Sylvia and I were to learn how to do the body swap spell. Thursday I mastered the spell practicing with Sylvia; today we were to show the coven that we had mastered the spell. So when I came home Thursday as the spell cannot be reversed for twelve hours, it was Sylvia in my body. We reversed it on Friday evening. She was not to play with you, and she betrayed me." I knew Sylva; she was one of my co-workers. She was smart and a quick thinker. Physically she was tall, slender, had a nice waist, and the longest legs. Her chest was as flat as a tabletop. Some gals have a little muscle if not breast tissue. Sylvia didn't even have that. It didn't matter though; she was fun. She covered her chest with her long curly blonde hair and she still looked good. We flirted a little at work, but both of us were married and it never went very far. That is until Friday. In the morning she propositioned me. This took me back. I responded that as exciting and great as it would be, it would hurt my wife and I wouldn't. Now it turns out, it was my wife testing me. I had passed the test, but I felt some anger over this. I let it pass, as I was not in a position to take up this issue now. All this time, when she told me she was going to witch training, I thought it was her way of telling me it was none of my business. I too enjoyed having some time to myself and just accepted this. Cupping my new pert breasts again, I had proof in my hands that there was such a thing as witchcraft. I was getting distracted holding these great titties when I head my voice again. Karen asked me if the short fat guy was at work that kept making mooneyes at Sylvia was Frank. While in Sylvia's body she had noticed, and ignored or avoided him. OK, Frank was not tall, and had an extra 60 pounds. He did have a terminal crush on Sylvia. He never did anything to get a sexual harassment suit going, but his feelings were plain to everyone. The way he looked at Sylvia, and tried to get work assignments with her left no question on how he felt. Sylvia avoided him like he had the plague. She had told me repeatedly how she detested that man. I explained to Karen, that if Frank stepped over the line everyone knew Sylvia would file a complaint. At this point I knew how my revenge on Sylvia would take shape. I went to my purse and opened it again retrieving the brush with the blonde hair. I put some of the blonde hair in my pocket. Then I found Fred's address book where he had his co-worker's phone numbers and made a call to Frank asking if "Fred" could drop over to Frank's house to have a word with him. I went to Fred's car and opened the door. I was startled when with the usual effort to open the door it flew open instead bouncing back after straining the hinges. Something was wrong with the door I guessed. I drove to Frank's address. I was speeding and cutting people off. I was lucky I didn't get a ticket or worse. It wasn't like me to drive so aggressively. Frank didn't have any idea of why I was at his door. He asked me if everything was OK. I said it would be but we had to take action. I would discuss it with him, but I needed to use his bathroom first. He said, "Of course, I only have one bath and it is the first door on the left down the hall." Once the door was closed I opened that dick-eating fly and pulled out my traumatized dick. The skin wasn't broken but it was bruised. I held it while I played fire hose in the toilet. I would hit imaginary targets with the stream. Heck, no wonder men liked to stand to pee. When I was done I took some toilet paper and wiped the end of my dick. Having this hang from you wasn't all bad. This time I was very careful to put the hose to the side before I closed that zipper. Then I spotted Frank's hairbrush. Quickly I recited the body swap incantation took a blonde hair that I had retrieved from my brush and a hair from Frank's brush and finished the spell. Sylvia hated Frank, she reviled in even the thought of the revolting fat slob even looking at her. Well, Frank was going to know her body better than her own husband knew her body. I imagined how Sylvia would feel when she realized that Frank was probably feeling her up with her very own hands. That would make her squirm. Then it dawned on me I had not told Sylvia that her husband was going to be home very soon now. How would Frank deal with her husband returning after a long business trip? He would certainly be expecting a "warm" reception from his wife. Most men would quickly explore a willing female body. If they were driving the body, it would be a willing body. What would happen if Frank was pleasuring Sylvia's body when her husband returned? I had not planned this part of it, but it worked so well. If the spell didn't work none of it mattered. I didn't know how the distance Sylvia was from Frank would factor into this. When I had worked the spell before everyone was in the same room. I left the bathroom to see "Frank" looking into a hall mirror feeling his face that had a look of horror on it. Sylvia now in Frank's body, would have no idea that I wasn't Fred. I went out and said, "Frank, breakfast at "The Diner" was great. Thanks for asking me, we should do this again." With that I left saying, "See you at work." I went to the coven. They were not pleased that I was there in my husband's body. In fact with their powers they knew everything already. My mentor, Zelda, took me aside and said the coven understood the reasons for my behavior. They would not punish me, but I was to be cautioned. First, taking serious action against other witches should be done after consulting and with the approval of the coven. Secondly a man's body at the coven is in poor taste, even with me in it. I apologized for both to Zelda saying I didn't know what had come over me. Zelda explained that men have a lifetime to adjust to the testosterone bathing their brains and learn some control. I had no experience with testosterone at all and would have to exercise extra effort for any control. If I had come to the coven before I did this they would have approved what I did to Sylvia. Sylvia broke her word to me about leaving my husband alone. A bond between witches is not to be discarded without thought or on a whim as Sylvia had done. Further part of my lesson today would have been about body swaps between the sexes. I had jumped ahead of the training and consequently didn't know the dangers and cautions. Then I was ashamed of myself. I told Zelda I had subjected innocent people, including my husband, whom I loved, and a to situations that they may not be capable of dealing with. I had left Frank in Sylvia's body with Sylvia's husband due back from a trip. "Calm yourself, my child, Zelda said. Your husband is fine and may surprise you. He has always loved you and still does. A little fun like this with your husband is not a problem. Most of us have done it ourselves. As for Frank, he has been dreaming of having a body like Sylvia's for most of his life. Your Sylvia is very happy and will take over from our Sylvia. In fact she is with her husband as we speak. She doesn't know how this happened, and furthermore doesn't care how it happened. She is just glad that it did. The only person who was in pain is our Sylvia. We put a spell on her to ease her burden. All her memories have been replaced with pleasant memories of being Frank. "Frank" even remembers what a great breakfast Fred and he had this morning. You are not to change them back, nor interfere in their new lives. Now you must leave, it is not proper for a man's body to be here. I left and went to a florist. I always liked it when Fred got me flowers and felt like this would help to make up. The florist was a hot looking gal in a miniskirt with great legs and perky tits that jiggled in her slight tank top with every movement she made. I had trouble controlling my eyes. Either I stared at her tits, her ass, or her legs. I was powerless to stop. Then there was a crisis, my dick jumped into a full salute. I was shocked into awareness. I purchased the flowers she suggested. I could see her smiling with a slight smirk as she looked at my discomfort. I left as fast as I could. I just thought I was free, and had made my escape. I was thirsty and went into a convenience store to get something. As I was getting a salad and drink when a group of gals came in. They were in bikinis probably getting more supplies for their time at the local lake. Not only did the erection return, but I thought I was going to explode in my pants. All it took to get me in this state was a beautiful woman in a bikini to stand a few feet from me. Again I paid for the drink and left as fast as I could. How do men deal with this? Their bodies want to fuck almost every woman they see. They don't even have to want to do this; their tools work automatically. I was developing a strong respect for my husband. This was his body I was in. This is what he dealt with every day. I did little to look like what I now knew aroused a man. I didn't own any clothes like these gals did. I hid my breasts most of the time. It was a miracle that he still was with me and still loved me. I would have to try to do some of this for him. Yet, I knew my phobia about this was so strong that I was not likely going to be successful in overcoming it. I knew I would have to. I was frightened; Fred was becoming more important to me than ever. I didn't want to loose his love. I wanted to think and wanted a quiet place to do it. I found a sports bar and went in. After getting a carbonated water I sat and watch their TV. They were playing recordings of old football games. These had always bored me, but that is what was on. After a few minutes I could feel the competition between the teams. I started to see strategy and execution. This was a lot better than I remembered. I watched hours of this and it left me feeling like a participant. I knew I would watch more often. As I was watching the game, I munched on some pretzels and leaned my chin on my hand. My rough skin surprised me. I had didn't shave this face and it was getting stubble already. I felt my arms and they were so firm and defined. If I had been in private, I would have looked more, but I was enjoying the game and didn't want to leave. I didn't have a clue what Karen was up to. Karen left saying that the coven would see her in my body and know she had mastered the spell. I assumed that after she was back and the twelve hours past she would correct our situation. I knew that she loved me and would not harm me. I looked at my slender hands with beautifully manicured long nails. Then I grabbed a handful of my long hair and rubbed it between my fingers while looking at it. Then again I grabbed my breasts being careful not to poke the nails into me. The feeling of the nipples being attended to, I though, quite pleasant. My former nipples were dead compared to the sensation in these. I wanted to see the rest so I needed to go to the mirror. Standing up was different. My butt felt large, and my breasts continued pulling my upper body in the direction I had just stopped moving. The movement of the hips when I walked was distracting too. I walked over to the mirror, feeling both top and bottom heavy simultaneously. I had already rid myself of the ugly sports bra, and now the granny pants had to go. Here I was, admiring my wife's body in the mirror. I now was five foot, six inches tall, 34C, 22, 35, with smooth white un-tanned skin, dark long gently curling brunette hair falling down to just below the scapula, and red painted long tapered French cut nails. My legs were toned and smooth, as Karen waxed them and loved walks. Even my toenails were painted. I spun around and looked back to admire my heart shaped ass. Then I turned around again and looked at my bush. It was shaved into a landing strip. My lack of manhood was disquieting. My waist was small and I had a flat abdomen that had not been stretched by carrying a baby. We had both wanted a baby a few years ago, but suddenly she seemed frightened by the idea and started to just say, "Later" when the subject arose. I remembered the dance that Sylvia in this body had given me and decided to repeat it for myself, as best as I could. Actually this was the right thing for me to do as it improved my coordination and proprioception. I repeated it until I was quite comfortable with it. As I watched in the mirror I felt heat growing inside me; what should have been a hard on, was feeling damp. I went to the bed, lay down and then opened my vaginal lips. Taking care to avoid hurting myself with the nails I explored this body's pleasurable sensations. As a man, the focus was on my member. As Karen, I felt everything from the tip of the hair on her head to the painted toenails, as wave after wave washed over me. Something else, I didn't loose interest after cumming. I brought myself to completion over and over until I was just too exhausted to move. Karen did say, "Play with them all you want, and to amuse myself." As honey-do lists go, this one was the best ever. After a nap, I showered and had to figure out what to do. This was an opportunity I intended to take. Today the new Karen was going to buy some decent clothes. I had no skill at make up and so passed on that. I wanted to trash every one of the sports bras, but didn't want to irritate Karen. Still, I was not putting one on, nor would I wear granny pants. So it was to be no underwear today. I found some jeans and a light turtleneck top. To get the jeans on I had to lie on the bed and flop about. I felt like a fish being landed, but with each flop, the jeans got up closer to where they were needed. There sure was no room in these pants for a penus. I stood up and looked in the mirror again. The jeans were great, and the top looked great with my nipples straining at the white material that was already stretched by my great globes. I was pleased with myself, except for my pale lips. They really needed some very red lipstick, so I struggled with it over and over until it looked right. Karen had worn the jeans, but she never wore the top like this. When she wore it, it was sports bra then the top as an undergarment so that only the neck of the turtleneck would show from under her blouse. Well, I was told to amuse myself, and dressing this way was amusing. I grabbed "my" purse and headed out to the mall, perhaps I shouldn't have worn such a high heel, but I was going with the mood. By the time I was at the car I had mastered walking in them. She had taken her own car but we had keys to both cars on our key rings so it didn't matter which car was left. It took a lot of effort to open the door. I made a mental note to grease the door hinges when I had more time. Once in the car I had to adjust the seat, mirrors etc. I started to look in the rear view mirror and take in my new face. I didn't shave on Saturday, but for once there was nothing on my face to shave. I pulled down the mirror on the visor and could see more. Yes, honey, I will amuse myself. It was as if I was talking to Karen as I looked at her. Once at the mall, I figured I should start with undergarments. At the Secret store they were so helpful. They fit me, made suggestions, and helped me try on every thing that caught my eye. I had no idea there was such diversity. There were bras to push up, to show cleavage, to shape, to support, to be worn without straps. Heck they even had some cup things that went on with glue that had no shoulder straps or band around your torso. Some were smooth, some were frilly, and some were lacey. I bought them all, except the damn sports bras. I bought thongs and what they called boy shorts, a band like thing that was like an ultra hot pant. Karen looked like a model in every one of them. The clerks instructed me and I had them repeat the instructions over and over until I could recite how each garment was used to show what and hide what. It was an education, men's underwear is very basic, boxers or briefs. When I left the store I was now wearing a thong and one of the smooth bras. The bra kept my boobs from moving so much. This allowed me to move more quickly without problems, and yet still looked great having nice womanly shape to it. The thong felt strange going up my ass, but I was getting use to it quickly. I now understood why Karen wore bras. Nonetheless, I now knew first hand she could get support and still look very nice. I didn't want to carry everything, so I went to the car and used the key to open the trunk. I was not used to these nails and I jammed the thumbnail into the sheet metal and broke the tip of the nail off. "Shit," I heard Karen's voice say. I would have to watch my language. Karen would never say something like that and it didn't sound right in her mouth. Still the emotion was correct; she would be upset about a broken nail. And tonight of all nights, I didn't want her to be upset with me. I finished locking up my purchases and remembered seeing a nail salon in the mall. It was a surprise to me at how much I remembered of what went on around me. Before I was so focused that I didn't even remember anything but the subject at hand. Now I had detailed recollection of everything I saw, no mater how trivial or unrelated to my objective. I hastened to the nail place but it was hard to focus. There was a constant urge to stop and look at things that I ordinarily would never have even noticed. Well, fixing this nail pronto had to be done. It was hard but I forced myself to go directly to the nail salon. Once in I asked to be seen, showing the receptionist my broken nail; it would just be a few minutes wait so I sat. I saw the other "ladies" crossing their legs. Even though I was wearing jeans, I did the same. As a man, I was never flexible enough to even come close to doing this. Now, it was easy and felt fine. My wider hips were a natural for this. I picked up a women's magazine and started to read make up tips. OK, laugh, but I had a practical need to learn this. The women next to me were talking about the opera tonight. One of them had a pair of tickets, but her husband had taken ill. She didn't want to go alone. She offered the expensive tickets to her companion, but the companion had her own tickets already. A scheme came into my head. I would offer to purchase them; tonight my "husband" was going to take me out. Just last month a colleague of mine, John, was given a last-minute traveling assignment. He had two tickets to the game that night so he offered them at cost. I instantly agreed. He was happy to get his money back and I had great seats for my brother and I. My brother paid for parking and beer as I provided the tickets. It was very straightforward. Somehow, and I cannot explain it, when I tried to do the same sort of deal with this woman it came out much differently. First I said, "I couldn't help but overhear that your husband is ill, I hope it isn't serious." "It is the flu, but he is in pain," she replied. Both the other women there and I softly said, "Aww" and looked sadly at her. After a pause I said, "That's terrible." I hope he gets through it quickly." All the women there nodded in agreement. What was going on? Did I care if her husband was ill? Yes, I did! Did it make me sad? Yes, it did! I really hoped he got better soon! It went on, we discussed how great the opera was, and everyone smiled and agreed. Then when we said how sad it was that she was going to miss it, and of course she couldn't go without her husband we all looked sad and looked down again. When I finally offered to purchase the tickets, it wasn't that I wanted the tickets, but if I paid for them she could buy another set of tickets later when her husband was well. Everyone was so happy with this that we all hugged. Yesterday, I would have listened to the first 12 seconds of this rolled my eyes and left as fast as possible. Today I was instigating it. She assured me they were great seats and I wished her well. I didn't care about the opera or did I? Was it was just a vehicle for me to show off Karen's great body? I was still in a state of shock from this episode. My mind is drowning in a sea of estrogen; that is the only explanation I could surmise. The nail repaired, I went into the department store. Once in the store, you had to go past the cosmetic counters. The clerk saw me passing and said she would make me up just to show her products. Once I saw what they did for me, she said that she knew I would purchase some. After looking at all the made up women in the nail salon, my face felt naked so I quickly sat down. The clerk knew what she was doing, and gave me instruction on the use of the products. I would not let her put it on me though. I insisted that I do it myself. I asked her to show me how to hold and do things. I explained that I needed to do it myself to get the dexterity down. She was not so happy about this as it would take so much more time. She wanted to make a sale and then move on to another. She probably was on commission. I put a hundred dollar bill on the table and said, "If you can get me to do this on my own this will be your tip. Further I will purchase everything I need from you as well." From that moment on, the clerk ignored everyone else. It took a couple hours, but by the time we were done I knew what to use and how to use it. I had made a lot of mistakes but now, though slow, I could do a nice job of it. I looked in the mirrors and felt proud. I was progressing with this "Woman" thing quite well. My face alone excited me. The white skin with the right highlights, the dark red lips, and the dark auburn hair all looked so --- exciting! Forgetting where I was I tossed my hair from side to side a few times, then shook my chest from side to side watching my boobs sway in the mirror. Then I felt the gaze from everyone around me. Perhaps here and now was not the place to do this. I thanked the clerk, and paid for the cosmetics, brushes, hairbrushes, etc with our credit card. All this was not in the budget. We would just have to make monthly payments, as I was not going to back down. I was on a crusade. I lugged the surprisingly heavy cosmetics bags back to the car. I wondered why they felt so heavy, and then I remembered my wife was walking around with my muscles. No wonder she was appreciative of when I offered to carry things for her. It wasn't just a man being pussy whipped thing; it had a physical basis. I would remember to carry things for her more often when things were normal again. My stomach was growling and I realized that I was getting hungry and looked at my watch. It was one in the afternoon. Back to the mall and the food court. Time was moving on, Karen was usually back by five- thirty on her Saturday. I ordered pizza, and was about to put the slice in my face but stopped. I didn't want my makeup destroyed with sauce all over my mouth. If I rubbed the sauce off, my makeup wouldn't survive. So I got a knife and fork and cut it up into very small bites. I didn't even get half way though it when I didn't feel full, I felt bloated. Perhaps a salad would have been better. I had always thought Karen was being prissy when she did this. I just didn't have a clue. This was indeed an educational day. There was no time to waste; I needed a gown for the opera. It was a dress up event. I had a tuxedo at home. So my body didn't need any more clothing. Karen may not have been a clotheshorse, but I was. I was the only person I knew that owned his own tux. Today, Karen's wardrobe was being upgraded. Back in the department store, there were a lot of gowns, but nothing that fit me. Yes, there were many fine dresses that would have suited my purpose, but they didn't look right on me. I had no idea of how women of the exact same size still had so many different shapes. Some of these dresses were too tight in the top, or the bottom or the waist was not where my waist was. I was looking in the mirror and beginning to think something was wrong with my body. Why did no dress fit me right? Was I that odd? I resolved to keep my focus. The right dress was out there; I just had to find it. It seemed very difficult to keep focused on my quest. I was questioning if something was wrong with my body. "Keep focused Fred," I said to myself. "This body is as hot as they come; the dress is out there." I went toward one of the smaller shops, and there it was on the manikin in the window. The sleeveless gown had a choker like collar around the neck connecting the sleeveless shoulders. It was open down from the collar in the front, the entire inside portion of the breasts top and bottom were exposed. The view continued down past the breasts to the waist before view of skin ended. Just under the breasts there was a spaghetti strap connecting the sides of the dress so it didn't gap when you moved. You could not wear a bra with this. The waist was snug and the skirt portion was tapered back together and ended slightly below mid calf. There was a slit on the side so you could walk. The fabric was a floral pattern with maroon colored highlights on a tan fabric. The color went great with my lipstick. I was ready to get this and went into the store. When I saw the back of the gown, I didn't care what the cost was. The back was exposed all the way from the choker like collar to and including the top of the manikin's ass. There was a spaghetti strap that went across the back at the waist level. This kept the gown snug. At the very bottom of the rear opening, it finally curved together in the shape of a crescent exposing the top of the buns. The material along the entire edge of the rear opening was couple of folds like a drape. In no time the clerk brought one out in my size. Eureka, it fit great. As I walked in it I was worried about my nipples being exposed. Though my hooters moved a lot, and you could see the entire side of each tit exposed, the nipples never came out. If Karen had any fat on her this would not work, but she was fine in it. No, I was fine in it. I then looked in the mirror at my back. I had a hint of cleavage on the top of my but. If plumbers looked like this, perhaps folks wouldn't make jokes about it. It occurred to me, I was not wearing undergarments to make this work. Good, I thought, no binders, no granny's. I looked at the clerk and asked what else I needed with this. In short order, she had some jewelry out, a cute little purse thing, and some great strapy very high-heeled pumps. The earrings were very, very long dangly gold colored things. There was a ring that I put on my right third finger. I was so glad that I had spent some money on Karen's engagement and wedding rings. They were nice on my left fourth finger and not undersized. There was even an anklet of thin gold chain. I bought the jacket to go over it all, that the clerk suggested as well. I just signed without looking at the price. I didn't want to know. Was there anything else, I thought? I had left the earrings on and could feel them pulling on my earlobes as I left. I could see my well shaped breasts protruding proudly pushing on the white turtleneck, yet with support, I knew how hot my thong was. This was all so sexy. I felt so feminine! Yikes, what was I thinking? Time was moving on. Heading back to the car I passed another shop and picked up a halter top, some tank tops, some hip hugging jeans, and tight short skirts. Karen's body made all these look great. The last purchases were quick and so by 4 pm I was taking my last load to the car. Where had the time gone? I had an hour and a half left and was rushing home when I spotted the adult bookstore. A gleam came into my eye and I pulled in. I went here on occasion for a movie, and knew they had great edgy lingerie. Yes, I liked my women just a little on the trashy side, at least in the bedroom. I had spotted something there on a previous visit that I knew would make Karen look like a Las Vegas showgirl. Oh, how I had wished I could have her wear it. Buying it was pointless; it would never touch her skin. I laughed to myself. Today, things were different. I tried it on in my size, but it was too small. I found one that fit, even though it was two sizes too large according to the label. I was concerned that it wouldn't look right somewhere, but it fit fine everywhere. I paid cash and ran out the door. I wasn't comfortable in that store today though I knew it was me, not them. I grabbed four small hamburgers at a drive though. After my lunch experience I knew I could only handle one. I thought Karen would probably eat her usual lunch. By now she would know she didn't eat near enough and would be quite hungry. It was almost five thirty when I pulled into the driveway. Karen would be back soon. I called a fancy restaurant near the opera house and made a post performance reservation. My "husband" didn't know it yet, but we were going out on the town. I sat the burgers on the table, and secured my purchases in the guest bedroom. I laid my gown and accessories out on the guest bed, and my tux and everything my old body would need out on our bed. As I laid out the last thing my "husband" Fred would need, I heard the car pull up. Again this was new to me, rarely did I notice any sound unless I was deliberately listening. When Karen came home I greeted her at the door put my arm around her and gave her a sweet long kiss while pressing my bosom to her. It was now Karen's turn to drop my jaw and gape at me. I said as sweetly as I could that we were going to the opera and dinner tonight. I told her there was some food on the table to hold "him" until our late dinner tonight after the opera. "He" was then to clean up, and be sure to shave. I complained that his face stubble didn't look good and scraped my face when we kissed. While eating, Karen was staring at me, but didn't say a word. She was hungry and happy to get food so quickly. "How did you know I would be hungry?" she asked. I just said, "Your ?wife' knows these things and takes care of her man." I smirked as I thought I was pretty funny. "You made me look different, but I cannot place it," she said. "Men!" I exclaimed with exasperation, "you just go into the bedroom and get ready, everything is laid out for you." I was in the shower and thinking about how I felt. My new short hair was much easier to clean, but I spent a lot of time cleaning my dick. OK, perhaps I was playing with it. It started to get hard as I lathered it up with soap. So much had happened today. It felt amazing. At different times I was angry, afraid, ashamed, aggressive, aroused, irritated, and mostly alone. I thought about the events of the day when the image of the bikini-clad woman at the convenience store came to mind. Just that thought snapped that snake to a full salute. Oh, she was so arousing. I lathered my snake faster and faster and her image filled my mind. I remembered her smell and how I wanted to touch her at the time. I thought of her curves and ripe bosom and how I wanted to press myself against her. I could feel my heart pounding. NO! A shot of cum hit the shower wall. My heart started to slow down and my skin felt clammy. I couldn't believe it, I had jerked off in the shower. I was disgusted with myself. I cleaned the shower and then cleaned this fucking machine of a body again. I had done some stupid things today. Still once I came home there was a beautiful loving woman greeting me. Just the sight of her made me feel better. I felt excited when she held me and kissed me. I felt cared for when I ate the food she had for me. I felt a calm, a peace, a feeling that everything was going to be fine when she was in sight. I forgot the problems of the day. I felt excited about an evening together that she had arranged. I needed to pee and went to the toilet. I almost screamed. When the flow started the pain was shocking, and then the flow burned. Had Sylvia given me the clap? No, Sylvia was in my body and I was clean. Was Fred messing around? My instincts said no. He had a chance and had turned it down. I could not explain the pain. Did it always hurt like this after cumming? I was worried about this, but put it aside to figure out later. I very well couldn't ask Fred. I never remembered looking as good as my old body did now. She was as hot as any of the women whose good looks had summoned my penus from its slumber today. No, she was hotter than any of them. It was more than arousing looks, I wanted this feeling of peace to continue. I wanted to be with her. This was more than just arousal. I shaved myself with only a few nicks and dressed in the clothes "Fred" had laid out for me. At this point I went to the car and retrieved the flowers. After Karen finished eating she had gone to get ready, I did the same. I took a while, as I was slow at this. I had worked hard on this all day and knew I could do it. As I finished I put on some of the perfume that I had bought for Karen. She rarely used it, but I knew how the scent aroused me. I don't know why, but it did. Putting it on, it was nice but didn't hit me primordially as it would have yesterday. When I came out of the guest room, Karen was there waiting with a large floral bouquet. My body looked quite handsome. She had done me justice. I could even smell her favorite cologne that she had given me. This did hit me primordially. I was stirred by it. What even stirred me more was the look on my face. Karen was unable to speak. I asked, "Do you like my dress?" and slowly did a 360. I looked at my old groin. I didn't need any other answer. She had an instant woody that I knew ached for me. Once I was finished showing off, I collected the flowers. What a sweet man, I thought. I smelled the flowers and gave them a gentle hug. They smelled so nice. I looked at the flowers again, and then at Karen. I didn't want him to know but I could feel heat in my groin. One thing about being a woman, you could hide this. There is no hiding a woody. I put the flowers in a vase with water and thanked Karen saying how lovely they were and how thoughtful Karen was. Karen smiled and I gave Karen a kiss, put my arm in his and said, "Let's go." We walked to the car, and Karen and I both went to the passenger door and waited. I had my jacket folded over my arm and asked him if this is how he treats his dates. After a second Karen jumped with a start and then opened the door and held it for me. She said, "Of course, sorry Fred." I slowly got into the seat, making sure I gave a great view of everything. Once we were both in the car, I suggested that for this evening I would call "him" Fred, and the new Fred should call me Karen. "He" hesitated, and I leaned over putting my feminine right hand on my old chest and pressing the side of my left breast on him, and said, "Do it for me, Honey." Just for fun, I kissed his ear, and put my wet tongue in it, and then blew my hot breath slowly into his ear. Then I gave him a long but light kiss on the cheek. I knew how to torture "him". All these years that she had used that hot body to lead me around had not gone unnoticed. When she would kiss me, or pout at me to get her way, when she would give the hint of sex as a reward, I knew all the time what was happening. The thing is I liked it. No, like is not strong enough, I loved it. She may have controlled placing my mind in her body, but tonight I was running the show using the very means that had always worked so well for her. Actually I was using more than she did, I knew what pressing the breast against a man did; she didn't. There was no way I was going to call him Karen. That was my name and he knew it. When that breast rubbed my side, I was like a cobra being charmed by the flute. I froze, not wanting the contact to end. I could refuse "Karen" nothing. As we drove to the opera, "Fred" asked me how I had managed to learn how to do make up, and get the gown in one day. I told him how I did it and he was just amazed and told me how spectacular I looked. I blushed and thanked him, and then laughingly said, "You wouldn't be trying to get me into bed with compliments would you?" Now it was his turn to blush. He looked embarrassed, and then I said, "Keep it up, it just may work." Again I reached over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, but this time I dropped my right hand to his crotch and checked out Fred's manhood. It wasn't as strange as it sounds. After all, I had choked that chicken often enough when I wore it. It wasn't that different. Yet, in a way it was. For once, I could feel it a little more clinically. There was great satisfaction for me; it made me feel desirable and pretty. Once we had parked Fred got out of the car. I just sat in my seat. After walking a few steps Fred turned around and saw me waiting. He ran to the passenger door and opened it for me. I got out slowly telling Fred that I would help with his "Man" training. At that point Fred grabbed me around my waist, pulled me toward him and gave me a deep kiss. I returned the kiss, put my arms around him, pressed my breasts to his chest and ground my new snatch on his returning erection. I whispered in his ear that I loved him. Well, Fred really was my wife, whom I truly loved, even after what she had done. There was some payback thought. I intended to arouse him at every opportunity tonight. This was just too much fun. Plus it was an opportunity to show her what she could be. If I could show how hot this body really was, how it could be decorated and presented, and what effect it had on my old body once things were normal again I expected our relationship to be better. I know I was learning things about her that I never would have without this day in her shoes as well. After I put the jacket on, I took his arm and we went in and found our seats. Fred didn't offer me any refreshments, so I suggested that he get us each a glass of wine. Fred said, "Oh, yes, of course, I should have offered." I just smiled and removed my jacket. We enjoyed the wine, and when the performance started, I reached over and held his hand. He smiled, settled into his seat, and we watched the show holding hands. At the intermission, we both need to use the rest rooms. When I got in line, the women's line went forever. Fred was in and out and came to me in line and said he would get us some bottled water for later and he would be in the refreshment line. When I finally got into the rest room it was not like looking at naked cheerleaders in the locker room. There were all ages and all sizes, and I didn't notice any centerfold material. I didn't want to see any nakedness there. Actually I was a little disappointed. This was pretty good I was in the rest room after only a very short wait. As a woman the line was so long it was difficult to get in before the performance resumed. At the urinal I grabbed the monster and braced myself as I started the flow. There was no pain. I didn't have the clap after all? Soap! The soap had gotten inside the urethra. That is why it hurt after being lathered up. I felt a little sheepish after remembering why it was lathered up. Eventually I took care of business and went to find "Fred". I noticed some guy staring at me, and I was uncomfortable. He came up to me and was trying to start a conversation. I noticed that he was not looking at my face. Well, I couldn't fault him; my body was on display. I was advertising and he was reading the advertisement. I feigned civility and listened to him. At first opportunity I talked about my wonderful husband. This took him back but the man didn't leave. When Fred saw me, he joined us quickly and looked a little irritated. I introduced Fred as my husband and put my arm around him. The guy then said he had to join his date and left. The Louse was trying to hit on someone else while out on a date. Fred asked what was going on, and I replied that I had just been hit on. Fred then said, " I ought to take care of that Bum, hitting on my wife!" "Relax, I took care of it, he is gone isn't he?" I replied. Fred paused and then said, "What if he tries again?" "If he does I will tell him that you and I are expecting and go on about babies." Fred looked stunned and I continued, "That usually sends a man running, but I am sure glad you came - just in case." Fred's presence did make me feel more secure. "How do you know these things?" Fred asked. "Well, Honey, I was brushed off by many women before I was lucky enough to find you. When we met, everything was right and you took me into your heart. Even so, I was looking for you for a long time. So don't be angry with this guy, he is looking. Though doing it while on a date with another as well as hitting on a married woman is rather tasteless. He is not ready. It is a learning process. Hopefully he will mature enough as time goes by, and then he will be ready to meet the right mate. Any woman who takes him now will not be happy long." Fred said, "I had always thought that being a male was so easy. Now I see that it is full of rejection. I had only thought of this as being hit on for sex or being harassed, never as a guy trying to meet me." I then suggested that we go to our seats, giving a knowing smile as we did. Once seated, Fred put his arm over my shoulder claiming his woman. I leaned into him as much as the chair would allow. I could catch Fred taking long glances at me from time to time during the second half of the opera. Sometimes he was looking at my face other times he would look at my cleavage or legs. I pretended not to notice, but it pleased me. When it was time to leave, I put my jacket on to cover up. I didn't want any more unwanted attention. Of course, I still looked hot and Fred and I both knew what was under the coat. I took Fred's arm and we made our way back to the restaurant. Fred was starting to relax finally. I was glad I put my jacket on. As we walked I could feel my nipples rubbing on the dress. The cool air was taking its effect even with the jacket. It was not painful, as the smooth dress lining offered some help. It was however, a constant reminder of what I had. We were right on time for our reservation and were taken to our table. Fred beat the host to my chair and pulled it out for me. I had wanted to take off my jacket, but I felt it was more important to reward Fred immediately and so I smiled, sat down, and thanked Fred. It was a little more awkward to remove the jacket seated, but I managed it. Plus it pushed my bosom out nicely for Fred to view while I did it. I put the coat on the seat of an extra chair as we were at a table that had four chairs. I improved my posture, which opened the front of the dress a little more to be sure Fred was getting the proper view. The point of this exercise had been to show Fred not just how good he could look, but how it pleased me. Judging from the focus of Fred's gaze over the top of his menu at my bosom I was succeeding. I often had used this type of ploy to pretend to not be staring. I see now that the only person who thinks these deceptions work is the guy doing them. As the woman, it was up to me to control it by what I wore. Tonight I was trolling for this and so it was welcomed. It occurred to me that it was part of the woman's maturing process to learn when to advertise and when to cover. Also, I felt that when covering your light under a bushel that it could be done and still be attractive and feminine. I wanted to convey all that to Fred tonight. I was at the table looking at my menu, when I glanced up to ask Karen a question. I never spoke a word. I looked at "Karen's" cleavage and I froze. I couldn't stop looking. I remembered just how much I hated this behaviour in any man and here I was doing it. As a stared I hoped he would move and I could see if the breast would spill out of the dress. I had a full view of the inside of each breast but I wanted to see more. I cannot imagine why. I have looked at those things every day of my life. Nonetheless, now I wanted to see them in all their glory. I forced myself to look up, but two seconds later my eyes went right back. This was embarrassing I couldn't pretend to be looking at my menu much longer. I would have to get up and do something to break this spell. The music started and "Fred" asked me to dance. I had not counted on this. As a man, I was a terrible dancer. I had tried but was awkward, clumsy, and very self-conscious. I did it when she was persistent. Karen had loved it and I suppose she missed doing it as often as she did before she met me. Well, Fred was now the great dancer. I had to be careful wearing the heels as this was more demanding than just walking in them. I had never had this much fun on the dance floor. I loved being in his arms and gliding over the dance floor. Fred was leading and I was able to follow. Somehow even if I made a mistake I would work through it. I felt graceful, beautiful, and wanted to display my body in this protected environment. In the dance, the way I would hold him, press on him, look at him, show off to him, told Fred that I was his. I had never seen this before. I had never before seen past how clumsy I was. I realized that I had deprived my wife of this joy. I had no idea of how much fun this was for her. I resolved then and there, that when things were normal again, I would take Ballroom Dance lessons with her every week. If I could learn and get past my self-consciousness on the dance floor, then I could see the message my wife was trying to send me. It then occurred to me that if I took her out more often she might have more reason to improve her wardrobe. We needed to take a regular break and devote time to the joy of being with and pleasing each other. Once back at our table I found Fred gazing into my eyes. The funny thing is I was gazing back. I reach my hand over across the table to him and we held hands until the food arrived. I upped the ante by rubbing the inside of his leg with mine. Until we got to the car after dinner is just a blur. Once driving in the car Fred said, "Karen, err Fred, I love you. I will reverse the spell as soon as we are home and then I want us to make love." I kissed him, and replied slowly and sexily, "Punkin, you don't have to reverse the spell for us to do that." I paused and then said, "I am ready for you as I am." I leaned toward him and used my right hand to massage his stiffening penus through his clothing. "Fred!" she exclaimed. She was stunned. After a few seconds she said, "Are you suggesting what I think you are?" I replied, "At the moment I am your loving wife, Karen. And your loving wife needs you, Fred her husband, inside of her. I want you to experience how wonderful you make me feel." I kept touching his meat as a few minutes of silence passed by. "Well, I always wondered how I felt to you, and what you felt," she said. In reply, I said, "I have had the same questions, tonight we can find out. But you have to be gentle, it will be my first time." With that we both broke out in laughter. The thought of sex as the man was now getting me excited. How did it feel to him when he was in me? What did my pussy feel like? I knew he liked it, as he was eager whenever an opportunity came. At times I had done it just to please him even if I wasn't interested. It had