Wishes don't exist, but you always have choices!
Greetings to anyone that finds this journal/story. My name is Brandon.
I will once again be a 20+ year old male living in Northern California,
sorry for being cryptic but I will explain what I mean later. My wife
and I have to sacrifice our memories of the events I am about to
transcribe, so I am writing this letter and hoping it finds someone who
believes me. I am leaving this letter to be a testament to all that
has happened and a warning to all. I will try to start at the
beginning.
Monica and I had been the two kids that knew we were meant for each
other since we first met in grade school. I of course showed it by
wiping boogers on her, and she showed she cared by making sure the
teacher knew of every prank I was ever involved in. It was true love,
but of course high school was something entirely different. I did not
suffer the awkward years like many of my peers, and therefore enjoyed
some popularity and attention from the more matured girls. Monica on
the other hand grew disproportionately. She looked like a pimpled
freak through her freshman year of high school. I never dated her
then, but I stayed friends with her because of how well she listened
and gave subtle advice. The summer vacation between our freshman and
sophomore year changed everything. She came back to high school with a
slammin' body. She still only had B sized breasts, but nobody was
complaining. I asked her out and we have been an item for 5 years now.
This is where my story begins.
"Wow, three more college review magazines. How much more do you want
to know?" Monica asked.
"You just don't get it do you. The wrong college could ruin the rest
of my life. There is not much work out their anymore and most
organizations have hundreds of overqualified applicants to choose
from," I explained.
"Then why didn't you go to college right out of high school like
everyone else," Monica replied.
"Wish I had," Brandon said under his breath.
Times were hard in Lewiston, Ca. My dad was laid off, my mother was
trying to finish her degree, and my little brother and sister were
still in school. I had to take a job at the town's oil change shop and
help out my family. I thought about joining the Air Force, but I could
not bring myself to fight in a war that I did not believe in. Oil was
not worth my life. Monica and I were engaged when everything went down
hill. We have postponed our wedding plans since then and we both have
taken on local jobs to help out as we can, but things are finally
looking better. My mom finished nursing school and acquired a job at
the hospital. The pay is pretty good, so my parents won't take the
money I have been earning. Last month I applied for a college grant
and won. I have 40K and all I have to do is pick a school. So far I
have selected three that are within my budget.
"Ok, I want to go and see Michigan Technological University," I stated.
"Finally, but that school is in the middle of no where. I will go
wherever you go, but what makes you want to go up there," Monica asked.
"It is not the location that counts. They have one of the best
Mechanical Engineering programs in the US, and when I compare quality
to cost I cannot beat it," I replied.
Monica seemed to warm up to the idea over time. I enticed her with the
idea of awesome ski slopes and showed her pictures of the winter
carnival statues. We were use to living on little money so it was easy
to save the extra we had been giving to my family. We decided we
needed at least 2K to drive to MTU and spend a week there. The 3 day
trip up there and 3 day trip back would cost $65 per night for a hotel,
$250 per day in gas, and $50 per day on food. Once up there we would
only need $50 per day for a hotel and still just $50 per day on food.
The next admission was not scheduled for another 3 months, but the
university gave regular tours.
In little time we had saved the money we needed and scheduled a tour
with MTU. The three day drive up there was not that bad. Monica and I
were great friends and she was still a fantastic listener. I loved to
talk so it worked out well. We made hotel reservations 20 minutes
south of MTU in a small town called Baraga. You might call it a big
town when you compare to the rest of the cities in Upper Michigan. The
place was very quiet and peaceful. At night you could see the hints of
the northern lights and the stars seemed to be a thousand times
brighter then they did back home.
We unpacked the car and decided to go for a walk and enjoy the sunset.
We took a walking tour of the town and ended up on a hill crest
overlooking Lake Superior. The sunset was perfect, and I had finally
found the moment I had been waiting for.
"Monica, we have been through so much, and you have stayed by me this
whole time. I want to quit waiting and get married. We keep saying we
will marry when we have more money, or when everything settles down. I
do not want to wait anymore. You are the love of my life," I
confessed.
"I.....don't know. You are changing so fast. I want a family and kids
as soon as I get married. I just don't think you know me well enough.
What makes you think you still want me or will still want me after you
finish college," Monica asked?
I sat beside her and tried to come up with the words that would
reassure her. I had never been so certain in my life. Just as I was
about to pour out my heart, a tin can fell from the sky and landed at
our feet. We jumped back as it seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
Monica seemed happy the falling can broke the moment and seized the
opportunity to pick it up. She held the can out to examine it. When
the can hit the ground it sounded hollow, much like the sound an empty
soup can makes when it strikes something hard. This can, if you could
call it that had an even surface all around. Even the flat ends
seamlessly transitioned with the curved ends. It was a remarkable
piece of craftsmanship. Monica passed it to me. It felt solid, but
was incredibly light. It was a faded metallic grey color but had
unique scratched in marks. It kind of looked like a child had taken a
nail to it and was practicing its first letters.
"What do you suppose it is," Monica asked?
I again looked over the can. I started to fear that it might be a
military weapon that accidentally fell off or part of something
dangerous.
"I don't know, but I think we should leave it alone," I said.
"You don't want to take a risk on a metal can. If you cannot take a
risk with something like this, how do you know I am worth the risk of
marrying," Monica replied.
I looked at her sweetly. She was right in some respects. The can did
not feel warm or radiological. It did not blow up when it hit the
ground, and, by feeling its weight, I don't think it contained enough
mass to be anything dangerous.
"Alright, I will prove it to you then," I said.
With that I put the can in my jacket pocket and marched over to Monica
and kissed her. When I released her from the kiss I looked at her eyes
and was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt I wanted to marry her. We
hiked back to the hotel room under the brightest night's sky you could
have ever imagined. The moon and stars seemed so much more majestic on
this night than they had on any other night I could remember.
We got back to the room and Monica moved on me unexpectedly. I had
just gotten my shoes off when she pushed me to the bed. I was
thrilled. She did not even bother with our upper body clothing and
simply pulled her panties off underneath her skirt and pulled my pants
down. She moved over me and inserted my member inside her. I felt
pressure and warmth from her wet vagina. A couple of pumps and I was
all the way in. She started to work her hips back and forth, and
moaned with each push. I was starting to get into it when the can in
my jacket started to move. Yeah, I know.....weird.
"Bang"
The can exploded, and dust filled the room. Monica screamed and almost
broke my penis and she rolled off me. I pulled my pants up and handed
Monica the sheet to breathe through. If that can was a weapon and this
is some kind of gas the sheet wasn't going to do any good, but it was
all I could think of. Then the most peculiar thing happened. A man
walked out of the dust, but then the dust seemed to swirl and become
the man.
"@?%#?, #~|& %@#," he said.
We starred at him blankly. Monica was still quivering a bit. The man
put a hand up and tried again.
"Greetings meus amicitia," he said again.
"We don't know what you are saying," I weakly said.
"Ah, you speak English. Greetings, my friends," he hardily replied.
"I am so glad I found someone, and so soon too. I must really be in
luck. I only need to work with 6 more people and I am free, but I will
not bother you with that. I am a life changer. Some people have
called our kind genies, sprites, or djinns. You may call me Alex," he
instructed.
"Do we get 3 wishes," Monica blurted out.
"Always with the three wishes, Hollywood has brainwashed everyone.
Have you ever read any of the real stories involving our kind? You are
very fortunate to have found someone as mild as I. Had you have awoken
any of my sisters from their rest by having sex, they would have
castrated you, Brandon and they would have made your vagina so small no
adult man would ever be able to please you again," he preached.
We both started to act more respectfully. I was starting to realize
that we were not in charge here. Alex moved about the room and took in
his surroundings. I watched him walk by and noticed I could see
through him. He was just barely translucent, but at the same time
appeared to be solid. Monica was not as impressed by Alex's speech as
I was. She walked out from the covers of the bed with her lower half
naked and snatched her panties off the floor. She then shamelessly
pulled them back up and sat down on the end of the bed.
"I want some wishes. You are trying to cheat us" Monica stated.
"I thought we had gone over this. I don't grant wishes, and frankly if
you give me any more attitude I will quit being nice. Now sit there
and let me keep learning about you. I am only half way through your
lives and I want to give you the best possible choices," Alex
instructed.
A few more awkward minutes passed by and Monica was fuming. The genie
kept glancing at her and shaking his head. He looked up at me
hopefully and then back down to Monica with a look of concern. He
seemed frustrated, as if he could not figure her out. I wanted to tell
him to quit trying. She was a girl after all, and I don't think there
is a creature on earth capable of understanding a human female.
"Alright I have made up my mind. I will give you two choices. Choice
number 1, I will erase your memories of tonight's events and allow you
to continue on like nothing ever happened. The two of you are meant to
be together and will have a happy life together if you so choose. You
will have your problems like most couples, but you have the opportunity
to have a marriage that lasts a life time. Choice number 2, I will
make you understand each other more intimately than any other person
has before. This will be slightly difficult, but if you make this
choice you will have less fights and live much happier lives. I tell
you what, I will even be generous. Monica really wants her wishes. If
you choose choice number 2 I will let you change 2 things about your
partner's physical appearance," Alex said.
I was worried about the whole thing. Alex had been very vague about
choice number 2. I turned to Monica to talk to her and discus the
whole thing, but before I could even ask her she was telling Alex our
choice.
"We choose option 2," she boldly stated.
Alex smiled.
"Very well, before we get to my part of the choice we will get to
yours. Monica what would you like physically changed about Brandon,"
Alex asked
I gulped. Monica could do anything to me.
"I want his penis to grow to a size that is perfect for pleasuring me.
It is too small to really satisfy me," Monica said.
I was hurt at the statement, but that passed as I felt my penis
pressing against my underwear. I pulled my underwear out and looked
down. I was 8" long and it appeared as if I were about 2" wide now
too. I looked up at Monica with a look of horror on my face. Not
because of her wish, but because this being before us had serious
power. We were nothing but pawns before him, and we just choose an
option we knew nothing about.
"It is done. Brandon, it is your turn. What would you like to
physically change about Monica," Alex asked.
I was still a little hurt that Monica insulted my manhood so I decided
for some playful revenge.
"I wish Monica had a 36DD bust," I said.
The look on Monica's face was not what I expected. She almost looked
pleased by my choice. Monica's breasts started to swell and strained
against her bra. A second later her bra broke and her new boobs more
then filled out her tank-top.
"Most girls have to pay good money to go from a B to a D, but I get
mine for free. Did you have to go DD though," Monica whined.
"Monica, you have one more physical change to make to Brandon. What
would you like to change," Alex asked.
"I want Brandon to be ripped. He is already tall, and tan. I want him
muscular like the underwear models in my magazines," Monica said.
"How very shallow of you," Alex antagonized.
This time I did not notice the change. My clothing was already loose,
so the expansion in my chest, arms, and legs were unnoticed. Monica's
jaw dropped when she saw me. I turned to look in the mirror and was
very happy with what I saw. I had always had larger arms, but the rest
of my body was chiseled perfection. I did not wait for Alex to ask me
and returned the kindness back to Monica.
"I want Monica to have a perfectly tone and fit body," I rushed.
Alex smiled at me and was happy I was not wasting his time. Monica's
body did not expand like mine. Her waist and hips shrunk. Her butt
tightened up. Her boobs seemed to perk up as well. She had a
beautiful hour glass shape. I was stunned at how beautiful she looked.
"Wow, we should have been working out all along," I joked.
"I have kept my end of the bargain are you ready for my final piece?
The last choices you made are permanent. Monica your body will have DD
breasts and your body will remain toned for the rest of you life.
Brandon your body will have a large penis and your body will be
muscular for the rest of your life. The last portion will only last as
long as you make it last. Brandon and Monica I have revelations to
make to both of you. Monica you are insecure and believe that Brandon
is going to leave you for a smart college girl. You are afraid to
commit to him. Brandon you take Monica for granted. You do not
address her needs for a family and even though you are sincere you do
not really know Monica. So my gift to you as you have chosen it is;
you will switch bodies till you fully understand each other. Brandon
you will remain in Monica's body until you understand her insecurities
and her needs for a family. Monica you will remain as Brandon until
you understand his need for a marriage and his drive to be the bread
winner for his family," Alex said in a voice that overpowered
everything else.
The room suddenly got dark.
I woke up to the phone rings. The front desk was making our wakeup
call so we could shower and get ready for the tour at MTU. I could not
believe the dream I had just had. I rolled to the side of bed and put
my feet on the floor. As I stood up I felt a huge weight on my chest.
The weight felt odd and pulled on the skin on my chest while at the
same time if felt fluid and natural. My chest, through my shirt if you
can imagine that, responded to the cool air in the room and sent a
cruel shiver to my core. "What is wrong with me," I thought to myself.
My eyes were still cloudy with sleep, and out of instinct I reached up,
and to my dismay grabbed two handfuls of DD breasts. I could not
believe it. It was not a dream. I felt my heart pounding and I began
hyperventilating. For those of you who have to imagine what this was
like don't try. My nipples were erect and sticking out a quarter of an
inch. The worst part of it all was that groping my unexpected breasts
kind of turned me on. Monica in my body was still sleeping.
She....well he now use to always sleep through the alarms. I glanced
at the clock and saw that we still had 2 hours till we needed to be at
the visitor's office. This was good because I needed some time to
process the situation.
I decided not to wake Monica up yet and try to get grip on reality.
This sort of thing does not happen. Maybe I am loosing my mind. I
reached up and brushed my brown hair back behind my ears. This is too
real; I cannot be making this up. I leaned forward to walk and had to
catch my self on the chair across from me. These boobs were heavy and
my center of gravity was much higher now. I had to walk with my
posture slightly straighter then I was use to, which put a lot of pain
the small of my back. I tried again and found my center. As I walked
to the bathroom my hips egregiously swung back and forth, while my
boobs bounced a full 2 inches in what ever direction they wanted. I
tried to control my hips from swaying, but my body was only built to
walk in a feminine way. My legs felt so much further apart and my feet
were so much smaller. My new waste was much larger then I was use to.
With each step I expected to feel my scrotum rub against the inside of
my leg, but to my dismay I felt nothing. I was still turned on from
grabbing my chest, but there wasn't the urgency of an erection. My
smooth crotch felt warm, and the stir of sexual energy seemed to hide
within me. I walked into the bathroom and quietly shut the door behind
me.
I looked in the mirror and saw the impossible. I was in Monica's
beautiful body. I could see the leftover makeup from last night
crusting off my face, and I could feel the battered bra my breasts
destroyed. I took off my tank-top and let the broken bra fall to the
floor. I then took a wash cloth from the sink and cleaned off my make
up. I could not believe how such a simple task like scrubbing my face
with a wash cloth would make my boobs jiggle and move. My underwear
was very loose, but unlike a guy loose underwear on my female body felt
wrong. Just walking to the bathroom managed to make most of the excess
cloth ride up my ass. Monica was not a heavy girl by any stretch of
the imagination, but she had put on a few pounds since high school.
All of that was gone now. My butt was perfectly toned and tight.
Consequently my medium size panties were not fitting like they should.
I pulled them off and stood naked before the mirror. The mirror was
only above the sink so I really did not get to see much down below.
When I tried to look down at my vagina all I got to see were the DD
boobs and a slight view between a valley of cleavage, of which I so
willingly wished for. I was extremely mad at him right now. This was
entirely his fault. Monica made me keep the can when I wanted to leave
it. Monica picked option 2 without even talking to me about it. Alex
could read my mind. Why did he let him do this to me? I took a couple
of deep breaths and calmed down, which only made my breasts move more.
The site before me was bittersweet glory. It was the Lord of all
teases. Monica's body was hotter then it had ever been before. The
only part of her body that wasn't tan was a triangle patch over each
breast a bikini cut tan line over my waste, vagina, and butt. I could
control this super hot body and make it do whatever I wanted, and yet
the only thing I wanted to do to it I was no longer equipped to do.
I heard Monica stir a little. I only had 10 more minutes and he was
going to wake up. I started to collect my clothes. As I bent over to
grab my panties I felt pressure on my bladder. I needed to pee. The
toilet was like any other toilet I had ever seen, but it looked so
foreign right now. I put the seat down and laughed to myself. I felt
undignified, like I was being humiliated. This was entirely unfair. I
grudgingly sat down on the toilet and released the muscles I felt
holding the urine back. A stream of urine left my vagina. I was
intrigued. I did not know women actually had a little push behind it.
There was also a high pitch noise that accompanied my urination as I
pushed it out. I thought women just released and gravity did the work,
but there was a little more control then that. I finished peeing and
wiped up.
Curiosity was getting the better part of me after wiping. I knew I
would have to wash my hands thoroughly after this, but I wanted to know
the extent of the genie's damage. I slid my lotion soft feminine
fingers down past my naval toward my nether region. My fingers felt
nothing but hairless smooth skin all the way down to my thatch. I had
to be careful to keep my half inch long manicured nails from scratching
my new sex. Between my legs I found neatly trimmed pubic hair, which
varied greatly from the mass of mangled pubic hair I use to possess. I
could feel the bumps around the outside where Monica had shaved her
bikini region. They were subtle bumps, but thanks to my boobs I could
not see it. I slid my fingers down an inch further and found folds of
skin which ever so slightly protruded from crotch. I was familiar with
the folds of skin because they looked like a camel's toe when clothing
was pulled up tight against it. The top of the folds fluidly followed
my new sex all the way down to the bottom of my vagina where the skin
bunched together. I gulped. My vagina, I thought. With a deep
breathe I traced the ring of skin around my vagina. It tickled
slightly. I felt excitement and sexual energy build up inside me from
somewhere foreign. My nipples started to harden too. It was different
from the cold air and I could feel them tighten. I instantly realized
what I was doing to Monica's body and stopped. I took a few more
cleansing breathes grabbed my pink tank-top and white floral patterned
panties from the floor. My panties, I thought. I put my pink tank-top
on carefully stretching it over my boobs. The material felt softer
then one my shirts, but strangely harsh on my nipples. Unlike one of
my shirts, the tank-top was tight exposing all of my curves and being
low cut showed off the top of my boobs as well. I gave one last look
in the mirror to see my nipples protruding from underneath my shirt.
My hair was an unmanaged mess, but the rest of my figure was to die
for. I wish I was in my body right now. I would screw you till the
sunset, I thought. On the other hand, I wonder what it feels like to
be screwed instead of doing the screwing. Damn you Monica and your
leap first look second attitude. I felt so frightened and powerless.
I was extremely turned on, but I did not have an erection. I did not
know what to do with myself so I stopped thinking about it.
I put my underwear back on and walked out to wake up Monica. This was
going to be a surprise. As I walked to the bed I felt wetness between
the folds of my vagina. The two sides of my vagina seemed to slide
ever so much between each step. It did not do this when I had first
woken up. It felt slippery, moist, and warmer inside. This mystery
had to wait. I pushed the thoughts from my head. I need to wake
Monica up or we were going to be late. I have waited on my dreams for
too long to let something like this keep me from them.
Monica stirred as I pushed on his side trying to wake him up. Monica
finally came to and screamed when he saw me. I fell over backwards and
landed hard on my butt. Monica threw the covers and fell off the other
side of the bed. I stood up feeling annoyed, but understanding.
Monica slowly looked over the bed at me. He could not believe his
eyes.
"Brandon......is that you? That wasn't a dream last night," Monica
asked.
"Yes it is me, and no it was not a dream. Thanks for picking option 2.
I have been awake for a half hour now and trust me this is really
difficult to deal with, but our tour starts soon so we need to just
deal with this for a couple of hours and then we can start to panic," I
said with a hint of cynicism.
"....ooo......ooo...ok," Monica squeaked out.
Monica spent the next ten minutes feeling his new body and glanced at
me every now and then let out a small laugh. I was picking through
Monica's, I mean my clothes looking for something presentable to wear
during the tour. I had already picked out Brandon's clothes.
"Get in the shower and I will pick out something for you to wear. Here
are my, I mean your toiletries. I will leave the clothes on the bed
for you," Monica instructed.
"Ok, but your body is smaller then before and your underwear doesn't
really fit right. It keeps riding up my ass. Do you have a smaller
pair? Oh, and what am I going to do about your boobs," I admitted.
"Just get in the shower and don't forget to shave," Monica replied.
I took the small pack of toiletries into the bathroom and started the
shower. I unpacked the small bag while the water got hot. I had a
Venus razor, some Bath and Body Works lotion soap that smelled like
apples, a luffa sponge, sun ripened raspberry body lotion, and Fruitis
shampoo and conditioner. I put the soap, razor, shampoo, and
conditioner in the shower. The water was finally the correct
temperature. I stepped out of my clothes and stepped in.
The feeling of water running down my feminine body really brought
reality to the forefront. I could feel each bead of water run over
regions of my female body I should not have. My brain was processing
each feeling as a shock. My hands were shaking so much I had a very
hard time trying to lather up the luffa to wash. Washing was not much
easier. The luffa felt incredibly harsh on my breasts and I loathed
washing around my vagina. I was however careful not to let the soap
enter my vagina. I remembered a time in the past when Monica had a bad
urinary tract infection due to that. The strange thing, to me anyway,
was not having any hair on my face and nothing but peach fuzz on my
arms, chest and back. My legs felt harsh though as I bent down to wash
them. The little hairs that had grown since the last shaving caught on
the luffa which made it difficult to wash them. The most annoying
thing about washing my legs was how gravity pulled my boobs down and
they swung all over as I adjusted to see what I was doing. I grabbed
the razor and started at my feet and worked my way up. I was surprised
that with nothing but soap lather, I could easily shave. My face would
be razor burned and cut to ribbons if I tried to shave with out shave
gel or shaving cream. I finished all the way up to my bikini line
without any cuts. I did a little landscaping around my pubic region,
and set the razor down. I continued to wash until I reached my pits.
I then realized that I had a little bit more shaving to due. My pits
were not any more difficult to shave, but my enormous breasts did not
help. I finished washing my body and started on my hair.
It took me at least 5 minutes of running my fingers through my hair in
the shower just to get all of my hair wet. As I did, I felt a great
strain on my neck. My hair was going to be a pain. I took a generous
portion of shampoo and worked it into my hair. No surprise it took
just as long to rinse the soap out. I then took the conditioner and
finished. As I finished rinsing I heard Monica enter the bathroom.
"I am leaving you a top with a built in bra and some underwear by the
sink. Please don't use the blow dryer on your hair or you will have
hair that belongs in the 80s. Just use a separate towel and I will
help you brush and style it. I will also help you with your makeup.
Please hurry up, I need to shower too," Monica said.
She left before I could tell her I was almost done. I was at an
impasse. Monica needed the shower to get ready, but I wanted to know
more about my body. I decided that my needs come first. I set the
bottles of shampoo and soap out of the shower so I did not accidentally
knock them over with my extracurricular activities. I adjusted the
water to make it as hot as I could stand and let it spray my chest. My
nipples loved the warm water dancing over them. I then slid my
delicate hand between my legs and started to work up toward my crotch.
I was trembling with excitement. My soft hands traveled up the smooth
soft skin on my inner thighs. I met my vagina and applied pressure
with the highest of expectations. The pressure did nothing for me down
low, but at the top of my vagina I started to feel something. I
started rubbing up and down and pausing to make circles. I tangled the
top of my pubic hair in knots, which hurt, but I quickly found the
right way to do it. I could tell I was stimulating my clit. I slid my
index finger between my folds and pinned my clit down. The response my
body gave me was overpowering. It felt like my penis did after I came.
It was far too sensitive. I backed off and started to rub from the
outside again. The pleasure kept building, but nothing earth
shattering. It was like getting a hand job without the climax. Within
minutes I had fizzled out. I was still rubbing myself, but the
pleasure was leaving me. I was very unimpressed. It seems I only have
a small window of opportunity to get the job done. "Maybe that's why
girls don't climax all the time", I thought. I had one last thing to
try. I took my index finger and pushed it inside me. It was
pleasurably filling at first with hints of true bliss, but became
quickly painful. I had completely forgotten that Monica and I were
having sex before Alex interrupted us. Monica's vagina was still very
tender from last nights attempt at fun. She had warned me that when we
play it rough and go at each other with lust she usually hurts the next
day. I pulled my finger out with disappointment and frustration.
I finished rinsing and turned off the shower. Monica had placed
a second towel on the rack outside the shower for my hair. I ran the
towel through my hair and piled it all on my head. I then wrapped the
towel around my head like I had seen Monica do before. Using the
second towel I tried to run it over my body in a hurry like I use to in
my old body, but it hurt. My legs were sensitive due to shaving and my
nipples, to my greatest regret, liked nothing but the softest fabric to
touch them. I looked up and saw that Monica had set out my toothbrush,
toothpaste, deodorant, and some perfume.
I finished padding myself dry and applied some deodorant. It smelled
very strongly of lavender, but stung slightly from the shaving. For
the first time, I basked in the scent. It made me feel pretty. I
snapped out of it. Where did that feeling come from, I thought. I
grabbed the bottle of lotion and liberally applied it to my legs,
hands, and arms. Once again I got lost in the scent. I picked up
Monica's now my toothbrush and looked at it with distain. Your mouth
is something that is very personal and what goes in it is just as
personal. I know this toothbrush was the one put in the mouth I now
possessed, but it still felt wrong. I gave up trying to find
justification and brushed my teeth. I was amazed how much smaller my
mouth was and how difficult it was to properly brush my molars. Time
was starting to become an issue so I started looking for my underwear.
I picked up the top with the built in bra and underneath it was
an impossibly small piece of elastic fabric with a v shaped patch of
soft cotton on the front. It was a tiny dark blue thong with
extravagant lace, which was made by Victoria's Secret. I once again
detested the situation I was in. Monica pounded on the door. I wanted
to scream at him and tell him every foul word I ever knew. After
calming down, I decided I did not have time to argue over what I was
wearing and picked up the thong as if it were toxic. It looked like
the bottoms to Monica's teddy set. It took me a second to untangle it
and bending over to pull it up my legs made my boobs swing and bounce
in a most uncomfortable way. I pulled the thong up and felt the fabric
pull tight against my vagina and over my asshole as it slid up my butt
crack. I felt the elastic fabric hold tight against my hips, and for a
second I felt sexy, powerful, and attractive, but that passed when I
bent over stretching the thong up my ass. "At least it's only a
string," I thought.
I let my hair down from the towel and shook it out. I grabbed
the white tank-top with lace trim and a built in bra. I pulled it over
my head and carefully placed my boobs inside the elastic fabric at the
top. The elastic band pushed my boobs together and offered some
support, but not nearly enough. My nipples showed right through it
too. The lace on the top tickled the top of my breasts, but really
enhanced the look of my cleavage. I bent down to catch a glimpse in
the mirror. "There isn't a straight guy within a hundred miles who
won't be staring at this, but little do they know who I really am," I
thought.
I walked out of the bathroom and Monica went right past me
inside. The teepee in his pants looked straining and painful. Monica
had some personal adjusting to do as well. I laughed to myself and
began searching for my clothes. The bed had a white blouse and a black
skirt lying out. There was also a pair of black panty hose and some
black strappy heels at the foot of the bed. Thankfully the heels
looked to be only an inch tall and wide. I could hear Monica cursing
to himself as he undressed and stepped into the shower. Yeah right,
like you have got it back, I mumbled under my breath. He was obviously
no more pleased with our predicament then I was, but what did he have
to complain about. Every step I took toward the bed made my boobs
jiggle like before, but only this time I could feel the thong riding
further up my butt. The elastic straps holding the thong up would
stretch and release as my hips swayed with each step. I put it all out
of my mind and grabbed the panty hose. I rolled them up in my hands,
and then rolled them up my legs. I wasn't dumb when it came to
understanding how women dressed. Watching movies and Monica get
dressed had given me a basic enough education on women's clothing.
Besides, I had undressed Monica at least a hundred times. I grabbed
the skirt next.
Monica use to have a really difficult time fastening the clasp on
this skirt, but I was able to do it easily and found that the skirt
settled an inch lower then before. I had certainly lost some weight, I
thought. I turned the skirt to the back so the slit on the side would
match my stride. I put on the blouse that I had seen Monica wear
several times to church. I fought to get it buttoned around my boobs,
and even after it was buttoned I wasn't sure they would hold the whole
day. I did have a bit of a problem. The skirt was lower and thanks to
the size of my bust the blouse could no longer cover my entire torso.
I had about an inch of midriff showing. It looked great from the
front, but my thong was showing in the back. I needed a remedy, but
time was fleeting. We only had 30 minutes to leave if we were going to
make it on time. I decided to compromise and hope that no body looked
at my butt.....oh how na?ve I was.
As I put my shoes on, Monica came out of the shower. I took his
suit off the hanger and handed it to him. As I watched Monica's
rippling muscles, I felt myself getting flustered, but this time I
could not push the thoughts out of my head. I felt a need inside me.
I wanted to be touched, held, and even filled. I felt my nipples
harden and my crotch get moist. My heart rate started to increase, and
I could once again feel energy building from deep inside me.
"Ok, I am ready. Let's get you fixed up. Sit in this chair here and I
will get you ready," Monica instructed.
The next 5 minutes were painful as Monica brushed out the tangles in my
hair. He kept telling me I had to learn how to dry my hair or I was
going to hate brushing it. Monica finished brushing and grabbed a
curling iron I did not even know was there. He must have plugged it in
while I was in the shower. After a couple of minutes of curling and
some hair spray I was told my hair looked good. Monica quickly started
on my makeup. I could feel pastes, creams, and powders being applied
to my lips, cheeks, and eye lids. The mascara was not fun and it
constantly felt like something was in my eyes. Without, slowing down
Monica took the perfume I avoided in the bathroom and sprayed a pump on
my chest. I was overpowered by the floral smell.
"Just give it a couple of minutes. It is intense at first, but smells
great all day long after that. Just so you know, you look hot," Monica
said.
I felt elated by the comment. I stood up and doing the best I could in
my heels walked to the bathroom mirror. I really did look hot. My
hair was slightly curled on the ends and a couple of tendrils had been
separated out and curled down the sides of my face. My hoop earrings
which Monica fastened to my ears were uncomfortable but really finished
off the look. My lips were a pale pink shade, which contrasted greatly
with the dark purple eye shadow I was wearing. The contrast caused me
to focus on my eyes and hid most of my imperfections. The perfume
smell was starting to subside and I started to gain a little self
confidence. The only part I could not get over was my thong showing
and my boobs looking like they were going to burst forth from my
blouse. I looked like a cross between a street hooker and a girl going
to church.
Monica put his jacket on and grabbed my leather coat. He held it out
for me and I put it on.
"I am ready to go. I got my wallet, oh, don't forget your purse. Just
grab you ID, a little cash, the credit card, and some emergency
feminine products and put them in your small purse on the bed," Monica
asked.
On the bed was a small black purse with a long string for wearing
it on my shoulder. I moved over to the zipper front of my suit case
and started to take out my ID. While fishing around my hand bumped
into something soft but it had a plastic sticker thing attached to its
back. I pulled it out and found myself holding a light day sanitary
napkin. I looked at Monica with a horrified expression; as I placed
them in my purse. Monica just stared back like I should have expected
this. The moment passed when we saw the time and we rushed out to the
car.
It was a chilly morning in April, but the fresh air was extremely
inviting. Monica helped me into the car as I struggled with my reduced
dexterity. The skirt combined with the extremely tight blouse was
making life pretty difficult for me. I flashed my panties to an eight
year old boy as I got in the car. We drove to MTU in silence. Both of
us were trying to calm ourselves and fixate on the tour. I glanced
over to see that Monica was sporting a massive erection he could not
control. Consequently he was suffering from some reduced mobility and
embarrassment as well. We parked the car at the visitor center and
were greeted as we walked inside.
A tour guide introduced himself as Hema from India, and to my surprise
he spoke very good English. Hema had been at MTU for 6 years and was
working on his Doctorate in Applied Sciences. We were taken through
many buildings, and we were taught about the history of MTU. I
remember sparse pieces about a mining town that started a mining
college. My attention was mostly on my body. As I walked I could feel
the cold wind nip at my freshly shaven legs through my panty hose.
With each hard strike of my heels I felt my boobs bounce. My nipples
would rub against the fabric and if I paid attention to it, I could get
some pleasure from it. My thong was not as annoying as I thought it
would be. I liked the fabric tight against my vagina, and did not mind
the small amount of fabric up my crack once it had settled. I thought
about my hair and how the wind made it blow in my face from time to
time. I had to brush it back when it tickled my nose and blocked my
site. The straps of my tank-top pulled slightly on my shoulders, and
the built-in bra kept a comforting, yet weak, grip on my boobs. My
breasts were far from having the support they needed, but this was all
I currently had. I was wishing I hadn't left my leather coat in the
car. I was getting a lot of looks from the students. The few girls I
saw gave me looks of distain and loathing. I had no idea why they were
so mad at me, but I definitely felt like I was doing something wrong.
I noticed a lot of the male students on campus staring at my back side,
and as they passed the took a deep inhale of the perfumed air behind
me. I laughed, if only these guys new I was really guys. I wonder if
I can still consider myself a guy, I thought.
Monica held my hand for support and to show ownership amongst the
other men. Monica would stand between me and any guy who tried to
approach me, and would constantly pull me close to embrace me with a
hug. I could not believe how territorial he was being, but despite
being treated like property I enjoyed it. We finished the tour and
broke off into smaller groups to meet with a representative of the
educational program we wished to partake. We were led to the building
that is oddly enough shaped like a brick penis. They called it the
MEEM (Mechanical Engineering, Engineering Mechanics) building. On the
4th floor we were put in a waiting room and found each other smiling.
We both were embarrassed by the situation, but we were both accepting
our helplessness to rectify the situation. Our turn came up and I
played the role of the overprotective girlfriend and asked most of the
questions. I could not believe the voice that came out of my mouth was
mine. I kept clearing my throat. Girls do not sound naturally
authoritative. My mind kept telling me my voice cracked. The
department representative did not seem to notice. The interview went
as well and as the mechanical engineering representative shook Monica's
hand he told us that he looked forward to having him here.
I sighed, and was relived we pulled the whole thing off. We
walked back to the car and had the whole week to ourselves now to
explore the area and our new bodies.
"What do you want to do first," I asked spreading my legs in a very un-
lady like way.
"We need clothing that fits, but we need it to be cheap. Straighten up
too. Your making me look like a slut," Monica replied.
"Alright, stop right there. I am wearing a thong that is riding up my
ass when I sit down. I am use to sitting with my legs apart. My boobs
are bouncing all over the place and it is your fault I am in this
mess," I exclaimed.
"I know that I may have had a bigger part in this, but there is nothing
I can do about it now. You wished for the bigger boobs, but I
understand you need clothing that fits. So I am going to ask this once
and then we are going to drop it. Do you forgive me," Monica asked.
"Yes, but can you at least be nicer to me," I asked.
"Deal, but please do as I ask. You will find being a girl can be a lot
of fun too," Monica replied
We drove down city limits and found a ShopKo where we stopped and
decided to start there. We both knew Wal-Mart was cheaper but there
were far less people here and we needed some privacy.
"I need to explain some things before we start. Don't buy anything
except underwear without trying it on. Buy the cheapest underwear they
have, and move on. I still have my, I mean, your old clothes from high
school, so we just need enough to get by. With that being said, you
will need bras, because nothing I had in high school has a chance
there. Why don't you go shopping for underwear, tank-tops, and pants?
All I need are pants, so I will try some on, and buy a couple pair. I
will find you near the girl's dressing room, and then I will start
handing you some different bras to try on. Be picky, bras are
expensive and an uncomfortable one will haunt you all day," Monica
said.
"I understand that. This tank top isn't doing a damn thing," I replied
holding back the urge to yell at Monica again.
We separated and I went to the women clothing area. It felt naughty to
be walking through the isles of bras and panties. Some of them were so
flashy like they were never meant to be covered up. As I walked down
the isle I found the Hanes underwear display and looked at the prices,
but right next to it was a pyramid style display of novelty panties. A
sale sign hung over the top that said 3 pair for $4.99. It was the
best deal in the area. I started to pick through them feeling dirty,
like at any moment someone was going to ask me to leave for being a
pervert. The panties were supposed to be arranged by size, but they
were all mixed up. I found several different styles of underwear.
Just because a pair of panties was bikini or thong cut did not mean
they were the same. The straps that hugged the waist could be part of
the material that made up the front or it could just be a piece of
elastic string. The amount of material and the thickness of the
material in the front varied from pair to pair. Some of the panties
were see through and did not look to offer any protection against leaks
at all. The boy cut style looked like they were designed to cram as
much fabric up a girls ass crack as possible, but having never worn a
pair before I cannot truly say. I found several pair that I thought
looked alright, but as I was wearing a thong already, I was hoping for
something that was less.......sexy. I was trying to come to grips with
the fact that I was a girl and that meant going into the girl's
changing room and bathroom. I had to snap out of it.
I managed to find two thongs that looked plain enough and one bikini
cut pair. The bikini cut looked very similar to pair of tighty whites,
but without the sleeve in the front for a penis to be taken out from.
I was happy I found the bikini cut panties, but even after looking at
them their was no way they were ever going to feel like anything I was
use to wearing as a guy. One of the thongs I found had a dangling
jewel sewn into the front, and had two thin straps on each side that
connected to a triangle of strings in the back. It was very revealing,
but for some reason the sex appeal of it drew me in. It wasn't like I
had too many options. There were few pairs of panties small enough to
fit me. Almost all of the panties I found that fit were shades of pink
or purple. The white ones had pink decorations and I was feeling
humiliated again. Why do girls have to wear such intimate
undergarments, I asked myself.
I left the underwear display and started to browse as I waited for
Monica. I had been shopping for girls clothing a hundred times or
more, but never had I seen the store like this. Part of me was excited
at all the possibilities, but part of me was very frightened. I walked
through the lingerie section, but rather then glance at the models in
the pictures and imagine having sex with them; I looked over the
corsets, teddies, and sleepwear. I tried to imagine what it would be
like to wear them, and if it was something I would like. The appeal
was how sexy they made me feel. It was mind boggling how my new
feminine form was affecting my judgment. The basic soft fleece pants
looked inviting, but not very sexy. I still looked at them longing for
the warms and security they would provide. A white corset looked very
playful and had panty hose that came with it. A satin g-string came
with the set as well as a separate pair of panties that were
crotchless, or maybe it was just a lacy belt, but it had straps that
dangled off and connected to the panty hose. It would take a girl 5
minutes or more to put all that on. I wonder if it was comfortable to
wear. My mind fought against my feelings, but I could feel a deep
sexual animal down inside me screaming to be let out. I wanted to know
what it felt like to have my vagina rubbed through that material. I
started to breath heavy as I touched the silk hanging down from a
crimson red teddy next to the corset display. The buttons on my blouse
strained against my breasts with each deep breath. So soft, I thought.
My hormones were dominating me.
I turned away and found respite when I spotted the t-shirt and tank-top
display across the isle. My heart was racing, and my skin felt hot. I
quickly walked away from the lingerie, but once again experienced a wet
slippery feeling between my legs. I don't know what came over me, but
I don't think I have the willpower to control the power of the female
sex drive, and I use to think women did not have an active sex drive.
I half expected to find typical shirts like I was use to, but in girly
colors. Most of the shirts were low cut with very short sleeves (if
they had any), and made of a slightly elastic fabric that would cling
to you. I sighed, I missed being a guy.
"There you are. Did you find some panties," Monica asked out loud.
"Shhhhhhh, don't be so loud. People can hear you," I replied.
"You are a girl silly. There is nothing to be ashamed about buying
panties," Monica said with a laugh. Two grade school girls walked by
giggling from our conversation. I blushed.
Monica was right, however. I am a girl with big breasted, female
needs, and desires. I really had to just accept the current situation.
I was in a skirt, wearing panty hose, fully dolled up in makeup,
walking in heels (of which I had adapted so well to I had forgotten I
was wearing them), with freshly shaved legs and pits, smelling of girly
lotion, deodorant, and perfume. I was wearing a tank-top with a built
in bra, I had one inch hoop earrings dangling from my ears, and my hair
was done up with light curls. I was in every way female. I at that
moment had an epiphany. My mind does not determine my sex nor does it
play any part in it. I can function as a girl as well as I can
function as a man. I took a few deep breathes and let Monica lead me
to the tops.
In a short time, Monica had picked out some very feminine, low cut
shirts that would cover my boobs and my midriff, but still look cute.
He handed them to me so I could try them on in the dressing room. We
then walked up to the bras. I once again felt uneasy, but I was able
to reason my way through it. The only problem was my sex drive was
starting to flare up again. There were so many options. There were
strapless, pushups, and full coverage for starters. Some of the bras
had wires and some did not. The color choices were never ending. Some
were plain and others were decked out in lace. I was giving in to my
hormones and female desires with each possibility. I couldn't believe
it, but I was excited to be trying on clothes.
"Having some issues," Monica asked.
I was blushing so badly Monica could see it through my make up. I was
embarrassed, but confronting these desires only seemed to make them
stronger. I took the clothing that I had and ran into dressing room 3.
"Please pick out some bras and place them over the door. I will try
them on," I said as I hurried off.
I did not even wait for Monica to agree to my request. I quickly
entered the dressing room and locked the door behind me. My nipples
were longing to be rubbed. I unbuttoned my blouse, which caused my
breasts to spill out, and started to rub my breasts through my tank-
top's built-in bra. It felt so good and so new. I could feel pulses
of warming energy flow down from them to my abdomen and spread to my
crotch. It was different then in the shower and hit me in waves. My
state of mind was having a huge affect on my limbedo. Both of my hands
were now pulling and pushing my nipples around. I could not take it
and let out a soft moan as a short burst of pleasure shot from my
vaginal region and out through my whole body. I caught my breath, but
did not stop my stimulation. Did I just have an orgasm, I thought.
Monica placed 6 different bras over the top of the door. Either that
was really fast or I am loosing track of time.
"Thanks for leaving a guy to pick out bras on his own. It is a good
thing I don't care what people think of me. Please take your time and
try these on. I am going to look at some of the dresses. I thought I
saw one that would look great on you. I will be back in 15 minutes or
so," Monica said.
I barely acknowledged Monica and took off my tank-top. My breast hung
free and my nipples were once again begging to be touched. I took a
hold of my right nipple and started to pinch it slightly and roll it
between my forefingers and thumb like I use to do in foreplay. Direct
stimulation was so much more powerful then rubbing through my tank-top.
My breathing was getting deep and heavy. I managed to keep my voice
low as once again a pulse of pleasure shot out from my vagina and
seemed to travel through my whole body. It was much more powerful then
last time. It felt so good afterward. The feeling sort of
reverberated through my body. If pleasure was a bouncy ball, it would
be like shooting it out of a cannon into a small box where it could
bounce around for a few seconds before settling. I still felt
something greater inside me. I felt like I could explode.
Without conscious thought my left hand traveled up my skirt and started
to rub the top of my vagina through my panty hose and thong. It was as
if my body knew what to do on its own. My crotch felt damp; no I dare
say it was soaked. I quickly unfastened my skirt and let it fall to
the floor. I looked up and realized I was surrounded by mirrors. I
could see a beautiful burnet with DD breasts and a perfectly toned body
masturbating. If that was not enough, the girl in the mirror was
wearing panty hose with the shadow of a thong underneath them. It was
every guys dream, and I was living it. My mind was now stimulated, and
my left hand started to press firmly on my vagina. My hips started to
buck as I did, and I was loosing my balance. There was a chair in the
corner so I sat down. I wanted more, and the sexual animal inside me
roared for satisfaction. The thong tightened up my ass, as I sat down
and it only pushed me further. Everything feminine about the
experience made me hornier, and I loved it. I switched hands as my
right nipple started to get soar. As soon as I started to work my left
nipple my hips bucked hard and I exploded inside. It took all the
willpower I possessed not scream. I moaned out loud, but thankfully
nobody was around to hear it, or so I hoped.
I spent another minute collecting my breath, and resting in the chair.
My hormones had been satisfied and I was coming down from my sexual
high. I looked up at the mirror and saw myself. I wanted to cry. The
girl in front of me was a manifestation of my greatest wet dream. I
wanted to kiss her, hold her, and screw her brains out. Like some
cruel fated joke I was that girl, and consequently would not be able to
screw her or anyone for that matter. Worse yet I could not just ignore
the girl like any guy does when he doesn't wish to torture himself;
instead I was reminded every second of every day of my fate.
The bras Monica laid out for me were still hanging from the door.
I stood up and grabbed them. They all read 36DD, but they did not all
look to be the same size. Needless to say they were incomparably
larger than Monica's B cup bras. Under further investigation it
appeared the cups were composed of different shapes. I guess that
makes sense, I thought. Women do have many different shapes of boobs.
I ran my soft fingers over the fabrics. The inside of the bras were
soft and padded. It felt so inviting. I started to hold the different
cups up to my breasts to see which shape fit me best. I found that the
brand Bestform was shaped just right. I tried on a white one and a
black one made by them. The bra felt like a shield protecting my
sensitive nipples from the world. My erect nipples felt less exposed
and safe within the confines of the bra. It is hard to explain how a
bra can make a girl feel secure....but it does. The lace and elastic
band were pretty to look at too. The underwire, to my surprise, made a
huge difference. They balanced the weight underneath my boobs and
spread it out evenly. My boobs were raised and pushed together a
little, but comfortably held in place. The lacey patterns screamed
femininity, but I was able to look past it. There really isn't
anything unfeminine about a bra. The bra straps were wider then any of
the old bras I use to see Monica wear, but I figured that had to be
because my boobs were now gargantuan. I jumped up and down a bit to
test the bra. My boobs jiggled a little, but I was very pleased. The
elastic band running around my torso was a bit annoying. When my arms
settled to my side I could feel the elastic band. It was like nothing
a guy ever felt, and was once again a foreign feeling I would have to
get use too. I raised my hands in the air and swirled around looking
in the mirror. I looked hot, and felt flustered over my fate. I tried
on a few shirts over the Bestform bras and decided it was time to
attempt the rest of the bras.
I tried some of the others and quickly learned what Monica meant with
her warning. Looks could certainly be deceiving. Another bra with
underwire was a full coverage bra. It was not shaped right and pushed
on my boobs creating stress points. I did not look near as sexy
either. The pushup bra I tried on was awful, and after looking in the
mirror, I did not really need it. My boobs were big enough on their
own. All I really needed was support, and the sports bras gave me just
that. I was elated with the help they offered. They were a little
difficult to put on, but they were like a soft padded vice holding it
all in. The jiggling was managed and I loved the comfort. If you were
trying to describe in terms a guy would understand, it would be like
comparing a pair of slacks to a pair of sweat pants. The sports bra
was pure comfort. Another one of the standard cut bras supported my
breasts but the front of the cups was made of sheer and it lacked any
padding. You could see my dark areolas and nipples through the front.
Normally I would be all for this kind of bra, but I was the one who had
to wear it and put up with the consequences. Worst of all my nipples
poked through and would show through any tight fitting shirt I wore
with it. The bra felt lighter and let a little air through which I
thought would feel nice, but just made me feel vulnerable. I wanted
Monica here with me to keep me safe. I could not believe how weak I
had become.
I had finished trying on the clothing, and to my dismay dressed back in
the tank-top with the built in bra. I decided with boobs as big as
mine a built in bra would never suffice. I buttoned up my blouse and
put my skirt back on. The top button of my blouse could not longer
take it and shot off. My cleavage was spilling out the top. Once
again I felt like crying. I decided I still looked decent enough for
kids to see and left it alone. My hair and make up looked a little
disheveled, but nothing gross. I raised my hands up to my face to fix
my hair and caught a whiff of my own natural odors from down below. My
crotch was soaked. I was embarrassed and knew that Monica would pick
up on it in a second. My hands smelled like a woman's vagina from my
explorative pleasure. I needed to find a bathroom, but I also need to
get the 4 bras and the shirts I liked to Monica. I left the dressing
room with the entire set of clothes I wanted in hand. I found my old
body frowning in the dress section.
"The prices are just too much. Maybe when you, oh well I guess I mean
when I finish college we can afford nicer things," Monica said.
"Can you hold these for me and don't talk like we will never change
back? These bras work great, and I like these shirts. Please buy them
for me. I need to go use the little girl's room," I playfully said.
Monica did not object, but he could definitely tell something was
different. We agreed to meet at the cash register. I don't know why,
but I felt extremely gitty and filled with excitement. There was a pop
in my step, which only made my hips swing wider and my boobs bounce
more, but I did not care. I had to walk across the whole length of the
store to get to the public bathroom, and I cherished every step. If I
had masturbated as a guy I would barely be able to keep my eyes open.
Being a girl is extremely different.
Upon arriving, I walked into the men's room. Lining the wall
were 5 urinals, of which I no longer had the necessary equipment to
use. An old man, who was using the last urinal, gave me a stern look,
as I retreated. Old habits, I thought. I walked into the girl's
bathroom with an air of dread and embarrassment in my mind. I did not
belong in the women's bathroom, did I? Plus, public bathrooms were
always so dirty and stinky. The small amount of air I breathed in the
men's bathroom had proven that. Even as a guy I did not ever want to
use them unless the need was dire. That opinion changed in a second.
When I walked in I first found a small room with mirrors and couches on
either side. I did not really understand, but kept going. The next
section had the standard hand washing area with mirrors and diaper
changing stations on the opposite wall. The smell of the whole
bathroom was a mix of perfumes from other guests, but mostly a fresh
clean scent.
I tried to ping my body to see if I had to pee. I tried
releasing and tightening the muscles I used earlier in the day to pee,
and almost did more then I bargained for. I found an open stall and
closed the door. The toilet looked spotless. I did not have to clean
urine off the seat and the floor was not surrounded by puddles of piss,
nor was the toilet filled with poop and clogged with too much toilet
paper. It was one pleasant surprise after another. I turned and
pulled my panty hose and thong down just past my knees. I then lifted
up my skirt and sat down. It was more difficult to pee with my
underwear and panty hose restricting how far I could spread my legs,
but I made it work. Unlike men's bathrooms, I did not hear the sounds
of farts and over the top splashes of poop. It was quaint. As I sat
their relieving myself, I could hear two teenage girls having a
perfectly normal conversation from different stalls. I was once again
perplexed. You would think that guys and girls have the same bathroom
code of ethics, but you would be wrong. In the stall with me was
everything I expected to find, except opposite of the toilet paper was
a small tin box attached to the wall, and their appeared to be a
scented plastic bag lining the container. I finished peeing and
cleaned up, but the box on the wall was intriguing. I pulled my thong
backup, and repositioned my panty hose. The crotch of my thong was
still soaked and gave me a cold surprise when I pulled it up tight. I
situated the rest of my attire and flushed. The toilet looked exactly
as I had found it, but the box on the wall was stimulating my
curiosity. I decided to peak inside. I was horrified. I had not even
thought about what was in there or that I might even have use for
something like that. Inside the box were a couple of used panty liners
and a toilet paper cocooned tampon.
I quickly left the stall and went to the sink to wash my hands.
I washed for about a minute with soap and warm water. I had thought
about it a little when I placed the panty liners in my purse, but it
finally occurred that it could happen to me. Am I going to have a
period? When is it going to happen? How long will it last? Is it
going to hurt as bad as the girls in middle school use to say it did?
Am I going to have to stick a tampon in