A New Lease Of Life free porn video

The Body Switch that Saved My Life Genres: Drama, comedy, tragedy... Romance, criminal, thriller... Business ethics, child upbringing, struggle against discrimination... Subject: This is the complete story, from the forced body switch until the final passing, after not one but two lived lives - first as a man and then as a woman. White magic. Exotic looks. Girls-girls eroticism. Learning a formerly unknown tolerance towards those in any way different, and working to spread this new inclination further out. Proud story, immortal love. "Virtual Robinsonad" without return to the former life. Business and family saga. Inspiration: The movie "All of Me" with Steven Martin, Victoria Tennant and Lily Tomlin, about a body switch, first partly and in a wrong direction, later on complete and in a better direction. Table of Contents Prologue 3 Background 3 A Unique Offer 4 Preparations 5 The Reincarnation 6 A New Life Is Beginning 7 Afterwork after the Reincarnation 7 First Evening in My New Life 8 First Day with Things to Do on Town 9 Later Days with Things to Do on Town 11 A Weekend to Rest, Think and Prepare 13 First Day at Job after My Ordeal 14 Tolerance or Self Esteem 15 First Week at Work after MY Metamorphosis 17 The Next Weeks at Work after My Great Change 18 The Weeks before Our Trip 19 Romance 20 Brainstorming at the Ski Resort 20 Our Little Orgy 21 Proposal and Wedding 23 Extra Wedding Gift for Ourselves - Our Virginities 24 The Nightmare Ending the Process 25 The Year after the Wedding 26 Getting Used to Each Other 26 Attempted Rape 28 A Long Term Research Project: My New Body 29 Vacation to Her Home Country 30 Representing in Garment 32 Female Culture not Suitable for Me 33 Romance on Print and Celluloid 34 End of Year Banquet 35 Toddler Years 36 Delivery 36 Kids in the House! 37 The Siblings Casanova 38 Not so Helpless after All! 40 Some Things in Life Are Inevitable 42 Close Encounter with Racist Bullies 43 Meeting My Family 45 Ethics and Enjoyment Doesn't Always Mix 43 I and the Hardscrabble Life 47 How about Diversifying? 48 When Tradition and Progress Are in Conflict 48 A Nerd We Need to Bring up 50 I Have to Be Ruthless 52 About Me and Drunkenness at Work 54 Garment on the Outside and the Person Inside 54 Bad attitudes in America, Worse Abroad 53 The Burglary 54 Would You Undo Your Body Switch if You Could? 57 My Political Point of View 58 There Are People with Handicaps to Care for 59 Not a Welcome Birthday Gift 61 Years at the Primary School 62 Meeting with My Other Family 62 Laying off Old and Silly Prejudices 63 Something for Her to Do 64 Our Kids Need to Be Defended 65 The Event in the Shower 66 Years Are Passing but Something Remains... 67 Flat Renting 68 A Sisterhood Is Like a Brotherhood 69 Women Know How - in Negative Ways too! 70 Don't You Dare to Touch My Product! 71 A Customer Is Never Mistaken 73 A Pet in Our House 74 Byzantinery... 75 Secondary School Years 76 Facing Female Degradement 76 Vacation Trip to the South 77 Family Solidarity Shouldn't Be Blind 78 Ski Trip in the Mountains 79 Why Him and Not Me? 80 In the Heat of Power Politics 82 Bees and Flowers 84 Emergency Situation 85 Leadership in a Different Organization 86 Seeing Results of My Work 87 House-tending "man" 89 While at High School 90 Times of Hardship 90 We Are Caught Red-Handed 91 Unrest in the Company 92 Everything Goes in Love and War 94 Criminal Activity in My Garden 95 The Rebellion 97 Swindle and Espionage 98 I Do not Belong to the "in-people" 100 Meeting Temptations and almost Falling for Them 101 ... and Their Higher Education 103 A Company Jubilee 103 Vacationing on Our Own 104 Even the Smartest One Can Fall for Flattery 105 Looking for Roots 106 A Peep into Their Study Everyday 107 Our Offspring Are Standing on Their Own Legs 108 Tail End of My Career 109 Keeping up to Date Is Some Job! 109 My Career in Sum 110 Period Point 112 Epilogue 113 My Life in Retirement 113 My Firm after My Retirement 114 Last Page in the Book of My Life 115 And Life Goes on - but Two Lives Are Now at End 116 Prologue Background My name is Peter W. Rollins, I am closing in on my sixty three of age, I am rather thin in the hair on the top so my moustache and my "Donald Trump hairdo" are my badges, also my bad habit with walking with my hands in my pockets, but I think that I am reasonably healthy for my years. I am majority partner in my electronics producing company, Rollins & Associates, we adapt atomatic machinery so that they are to function better for all the various american conditions, often it is "tinkering" on already installed software and technology designed by others rather than working out all our own. For conditions around in the Americas are widely different, from Arctic Alaska to tropics in Florida, so machinery intended to work mostly on their own, to be automatic in other words, need special adaptations and designers in Silicon Valley or abroad don't always understand those conditions as well as we do. We have in any case earned a good market position, I owe a good part of my success to my late wife Bridget, deceased a few years ago after many happy years in a car accident. In this case it really was the woman behind the man... She and a girl friend were out driving on a small local road when they met a huge trailer driving way to fast - and then the driver suddenly had to sneeze... It was hard to come through my loss but I had to, not the least for the sake of my company. We never had any offspring so it has always been my company that has been my "kid", always since the company has been my whole life. The closest thing I have to a relative is a cousin who moved to Australia years ago and some second cousins I hardly know. The last few years a lot of immigrants have come to my resident city from far and wide around. They have been given starting up situations, among others at my small high tech factory. Many of them have shown themselves so useful for the company that they earned themselves permanent employments. And we have some women at the company, the majority of them are working in the administration but there are some female engineers and technicians at the plant too. My general ideas about immigrants and females at the workplace are not so very different from most americans of my age set but I better not be too rigid about it, most immigrants and all those allowed permanent employment are good folks useful to the company and then an intelligent manager should ignore some quaint culture not harmful to anyone. But I have to admit that I do know and sometimes like to retell some less than genteel stories. Like about the ignorance and funny traditions of immigrants, about female gossip, silly taste for sugary romance, bad driving skills and about abrasive feminists. And while I was married with her I was often so late home to dinner that I had irritated sighs from my wife. Standard apology then was that I had been soooo busy, she mostly accepted that with a sigh. Wifes accepted such things in those days, you see... These days I have been feeling heavy on my chest but with my well toned body I can't imagine that it is my heart acting up, but in the end the feeling is so queer that I see a doctor. We can say that this story begins with this doctor visit. Tests are done on my body, after some weeks the results are in and when I once am sitting at an appointment the doctor looks up from his papers with test results, and he looks at me with a sad gaze and voice. It is with sadness I have to inform You that this isn't any heart problem, it is a malevolent thymoid sarcoma, that is an aggressive tumor in the thymus gland. Such tumors are as rare as they are hard to discover, and they are normally not discovered until it is too late to do much about them either like in Your case. So I am not going to give You any false hopes, we can dull pain but we can't cure the disease and we can postpone the end but not for long. The probable end will be that the tumor spreads to the lungs. You will probably get very tired in the time to come, You will often feel nausea and there will be coughing bouts. And every little epidemic disease passing by will come to You. To conclude, I will strongly recommend You to start thinking what is to become of Your firm once You are out of it. Yes, that was a tough one to be told! At work the day after I start talking with people in the plant leadership about what now to do. The news about my diagnosis gets quickly around the plant, I am given flowers, condolences and lots of compassion while I am sitting and feeling bad with the future. And I had so many plans for the future! A Unique Offer At the end of that workday a twenty years old, young, good-looking, slim and elegant young lady with profoundly black hair and decidedly feminine body build enters my office. Her name is Rukhshana, she is one of the immigrants we have hired, she washes floors. We all hear you sick and soon die. We all like help you, you good man help many from my home land. Good thing if you live long. I think I can help you better than anyone else. I don't think you can afford saying no to my very good offer... Now most people in my land islam, once not. Once many able shamans, now few. Few shamans living now know really strong magic but I know one. He once tell me he can send spirit from body to body for ever. I atheist, my parents atheists too, but perhaps old magic not old nonsense still? You perhaps try? I gloomily comment: If I could make that, swapping body with someone, it would be good - to me at least... But who would swap bodies with a mortally ill man? Thus commiting themselves to a slow and agonizing suicide? No, any such person I'll never find because he hardly exists, everyone will of course rather live themselves. Now Rukshana gets eager in her gaze. I offer me! But only if you do two things like I say, or I say not. * We two marry, then you can write all you own to me. You can, you have no near family. If magic work I dead and you live with my body before me, then you me afterwards, so you write all to me. I think law demands. If magic not work then you dead and I live, then I new boss. I not destroy, I promise on my honest parents! * You send lot of money to my very poor parents, they hope for money from me, often hungry. You probably wonder why I perhaps make my self dead. Because I want good life for many. You good man give work to many from home land, good thing if you live long. If you live and I dead, my parents rich and happy. If I live and you dead, my parents very rich and very happy, and I rich self too. If magic work and you live, many wonder why, may be some have Nobel Prize? (said with a good laughter) My eyes turn huge and I comment: Really? Are you serious? Can you accept that you might die to get your parents and perhaps yourself too a better income? Allow me then to demand two things in return. * You will not make me transfer to another ethnic group of any other faith. I am an atheist like you but of American and Christian background and so I will always remain. * We have to do this so that the law doesn't get a problem with it, we need to have the police along with us on the way. What is to take place must not be a crime, I don't want to be a murderer. And she doesn't hesitate for a second with accepting those two demands. It strikes me that if she is right and this is no hoax, I will end up in her body - a female body! The thought makes me shudder, when I grew up something like this would from a male perspective be tantamount to lifetime banishment to the kitchen and the washroom. Imagine becoming like she looks now - small of stature and spare of build, probably weaker in physical power and may be need to use lots of cosmetics, certainly sitting down at the toilet when I need to take a leak - and imagine me dressed in a skirt and a dress, and walking on high heels! What if I get pregnant and have to struggle with small boisterous ones for years to come! Help! What will people say, not the least everyone at my factory! Help again! Not that I am more of a "misogynic" than most men of my age set, but... And will this mean that I am turned into a "dyke"? Gulp! But then panic wanes for common sense. I know what I have but not what I can get, where can I find a guy who both knows a wizard this able and is willing to may be die instead of me? Fat chance, probably infinitesimally slim! Even if I do find him it will take time to locate him and time is in short supply for me now. And if I after all find such a guy, how can I transfer my property to this person who is both willing to take this risk and also knows a magician this able? It is a well known fact that I am not gay so a "partnership" will surely arouse police suspicion, and an adoption will take too much time to arrange. On the other hand I have Rukhshana standing right in front of me right now with her offer! A wedding only takes a few days to arrange, and she is quite correct about that having no close relatives in the land, I am in my right to will my property to anyone I like. So I have no other realistic option but to accept her demands and go for her offer as stated, I plainly spoken have the choice between probable life and a certain death - if I take my decision soon! And if I live on afterwards, I should somehow be able to make a living out of it! So I take the grand decision, her demands are accepted. Our deal is sealed with a hand shake and then we are at it, Rukhshana and me. I dream that night. I run naked through forest, on the run from an aggressive bear and into a log cabin, and I close the door shut behind me. In there Rukhshana is standing with a cleaver in hand, she looks down and is lifting the cleaver for a chop... And then I awaken. Preparations My lawyer gets squint-eyed with scepticism when I tell him what I have decided. But he can't find anything in the book of law forbidding magic that only may kill. Neither can the police, they accept the ceremony on the condition that they can have a representative when it takes place, to ensure that no swindle is carried out. I call in the partners in the company for an extraordinary council meeting and tell them what is soon to come. The obvious scepticism is very evident with them too, but I am the majority owner so... They calm down when I tell them that an expert team of engineers, clerks and sellers, plus some representatives from the technicians, have been appointed to keep things going when I get so ill that I can no longer handle it any longer. After the ceremony I am either still alive and then I'll be back in not so long time, the team will then keep the firm going until then, or in case I am dead the expert team will be a permanent advisory staff for my successor. When learning about my plans there are many who question my judgement. "Snake oil!" is a comment from many. And one of Rukhshana's compatriots gives me a little warning. You should know, boss, that among us immigrants she is known as a sly one, a clever opportunist, an egotist likely to try profiting on the naievety of others! You should take care! So in spite of many warnings we two marry about the time when she celebrates her twenty one years of age, the August 11th. I am mostly sitting in a wheel-chair when we face the city magistrate and have the wedding ritual performed, I can't stand for long now. There are many a rather sceptic gaze around, the situation looks very much like a "gold-digger" ensnaring a wealthy, old and decrepit "tomcat"... After the ceremony she moves into a flat at the top floor in my mansion with her few keepsakes. I write a will and apart from some money to cancer research she is appointed sole beneficiary. Ten million dollars are invested in a fund for her parents and they will have a donation of two thousand dollars annually. I get to know her background in abject poverty. She is out of a large family, she is the youngest in a litter of three brothers and a sister. The capable shaman she knows is invited on a tourist visa and when he arrives he gets a hefty bunch of hard cash with a promise of a lot more to come should he succeed. His voyage, food and lodging is paid for him so it is a paid vacation for him, my home office downstairs is for the occasion furnished as a flat for him. His ordinary work is at a laundry. Rukhshana is his tourist guide for him from time to time during this period. His return ticket is open, it is hard to say precisely how fast my development turns out. It is in high time he arrives for one day, a couple of weeks before his arrival and about a month after our wedding, my feet can't carry me anymore when I try to rise from my office desk. It is time to get me home now, I can't stand a workday any longer, not even with special assistance. The rest of the day is passed with greeting my folks good bye, may be for ever. The expert team is wished good luck for now I am out of power. I keep in contact from time to time but most of the little energy I have left is spent on something else. During this time Rukhshana is my housekeeper but her most important task is to explain me how I can, in case it is me and not her who gets to living on, make a clean, modest, nice and safe life as a girl. I do not intend to obey all her advices if the "life grant" goes to me rather than her but that she easily accepts. And I likewise explain her about my business and firm, if she is the one living on it will be beneficial not having to rely too heavily on the expert team. When the shaman finally arrives, he explains me, the police officer, the doctor and the nurse tending to me what and how the coming ceremony is to be held, with Rukhshana as interpreter. This method was originally invented to keep VIPs mortally ill or seriously damaged in fighting from being lost to the tribe. He accepts her solemn declaration that I am such a man deserving such a great honour, this is invaluable magic not to be wasted on unworthies! Such a spell is only possible in the dying moment he says, while both the dying and the one living on both are in a hypnotic trance, and it isn't possible to guarantee a good result 101 percent, everyone must hope for the best for there may come a disturbing cough or the like in the critical seconds. Both parts must be present when it happens and must be awake, concentrated and willing. This is why her voluntary mind is critically necessary, on top of my own considerable contribution of attention to it and a not insignificant dosis of good luck. And doctors are asked to keep me in my full faculties for as long as possible, preferably until the very end. The Reincarnation Then a morning, the calendar says Sunday December 3rd in the year 2013 AD, the doctor tells me that now the science of medicine can't keep me alive for much longer - the point of time is close, and accordingly I feel "heavy" and unwell, I am short of breath and I sometimes have bouts of cough. The doctor has said that it is no wonder, an x-ray photograph has shown that the tumor has spread to a lung and an artery is under press, it is probably about to burst and then I will be dead within minutes. So the doctor performs the check-up of both me and Rukhshana demanded by police while the police officer arrives. He tells me under four eyes a password ("corn-on-the-cob") identifying me when the old body is dead, whether it is me who is surviving or she who has got lucky. And he tells me that he will ask me questions only an American will be able to give an immediate and correct answer to. So there is the man from the police standing him and the doctor is entering, and shortly behind him the shaman. Finally the other main person in the drama soon to commence enters, Rukhshana, dressed in a white shirt in a beige sweater and further down a tweed-patterned skirt over black lady tights. She looks down on me in the bed and says with a little giggle: If magic work surely not last time you walk in dress or skirt! She sits down at the bedside alongside me while the man of law asks her formally whether she realizes the danger there is to what is now to take place, this she affirms unequivocally. And then she lies down in her own bed. Shortly after I have a cough fit cutting me like a knife in the chest and then I am acutely short of breath, the nurse turns me over into a stable side position to ease the breathing for some minutes more and then I bleed heavily through my nose and mouth. The blood vessel has probably burst so now I am in a violent hemorrhage. I am bleeding to death. Now the shaman initiates the ritual. He is chanting in a monotonous burr and he keeps on and on, looks like it takes its time at the very end. I close my eyes and concentrate on his chanting to the best of my ability, and suddenly I am so to say hovering above the bedstead without feeling pain, I am in trance while my life blood is leaving me through my moth and nostrils. And suddenly it is like everything is swaying and shivering, I understand that this is the pont of time when the difference between hoax and honesty is revealed. Then I have a vision, I am looking from above down at myself and I look over at Rukhshana in the bed alongside. I am in my bed in a pool of blood under the blanket, dressed in a bloody pajama, while she is on her her back in the tweed-m?nstrete patterned skirt I saw a while ago, the other present in the room are not to be seen now. All of a sudden I hear a lady voice I recognize say my name, I look up and behold a rather thick-set woman in her fifties with grey bob-cut hair, she is dressed in a knee-long skirt over dark lady tights and half high shoes, with a roomy white shirt with a collar with embroideries on, within an armless sweater with a v-hemline. In other words fashionable garment during her youth. She is standing at the foot end between the beds. I recognize her, it is my passed wife Bridget, dressed in the garment she wore when I saw her for the last time alive. I hear her say: It was actually you I came to bring along, dear Pete of mine, but it is possible that you can come along imstead of him, Rukhshana. If that is what you desire? She replies: Yes please! He deserve it! Agree Bridget? Bridget gives us a gaze both of us and utters: You could say so, so come with me then. And then I see myself raise from my bed, still in my bloody pajama and join her, and Rukhshana still lies on her bed... The vision closes and I am shivering for some seconds more. And then it clears up for me. The shaman awakens me from my trance with a finger snap by my ear, I remain still a little to rest from my exertion. The first I then realize of the fundamental change I have been through is that I feel that I am no longer lying on my side but on my back. A couple of seconds later I open my eyes, and when I look down my gaze stops at a big bulge at chest level - I have got boobs! When I then lift my head I see the skirt of Rukhshana further down - and now it is me wearing it! I look to my side and behold myself lying on the side in bloody sheets by my side, with empty eyes. But when now the doctor has checked that breathing and pulse has ended, the eyes are closed and the blanket is pulled over the head, as prescribed by tradition when someone dies. I understand that the shaman has succeeded with his ritual and then I notice it - I feel awake, fresh and energetic, not so funny, I am healthy after disease and more than forty years younger! Still a little dizzy I raise up in the bed and exult with a new and unfamiliar voice in mezzosoprano - one that I still recognize: Now I am here again! Young and fresh! Thanks so awesome! A New Life Is Beginning Afterwork after the Reincarnation The police officer at once moves in and wants the password. He gets it, "corn-on-the-cob", correct. Then he wants to know the northernmost and the southernmost state of USA (Alaska and Hawaii - not Florida!), and the name of George Washington's son - none, he died childless! And these answers I give not in the broken accent of Rukhshana but in my own all-american twang... I rise from the bed and walk to a small table and then discuss with the officer what now and further. Even by those few steps I notice that just walking feels differently with wide hips, a sway in the back and longer steps - not to speak about the high-heeled shoes Rukhshana came to my death bed walking in, but that will probably get a habit by and by? The police officer gives me some good advices, how about phoning a funerary agency first of all? Finally we have worked out the beginnings to a to-do list for the coming days, I take my cell phone and ask the funerary agency to come over instantly. They will come to bring away the remains of Peter Rollins quite soon. Son after the officer phone his precinct office and ask them to write that formal declaration formerly agreed upon, for the case that it is me not her that would survive. There are many more things to handle still but now I can feel another need to be served. I get a feeling that is very new to me but still no way to be misunderstood! The restroom is calling at me! Finally I have no alternative but obeying. So I tell the police officer: Could You excuse me for a little while? I think I have business with serving nature! We finish the list afterwards. But the few steps that way tell me clearly that I have to get off those high-heeled monstrosity shoes of Rukhshana - ASAP! I have walked for long enough in them by now to realize that I will never ever get used to walk in such footwear! I kick them off my feet in a hurry on the way. Having entered the little room, I close the door and turn the lock behind me. I surreptiously have a look in the mirror and behold the same face that was looking down at me in the bed about three hours ago, and I stop for some secs with thoughts over that. But now there is no way of postponing my need any more, I simply have to pull up the skirt and down the thights and the panty, and sit down at the loo for now the bladder simply have to be relieved - for the first time the girly way! Absolutely a new sensation to feel it streaming straight out the groin, it even sounds differently! There are of course many things Rukhsana never told me about her life because they were so self evident and every day to her. I discover that now - I don't spread my legs wide enough so my loins get splashed when the bladder is emptied. So I dry off and think that I will need a good shower and some clean garment tomorrow, these tights will have to be thrown in the laundry bin and I have had a necessary experience in my new life. Having washed and dried I put my feet into Rukhshana's slippers I find on the floor below the entry hall wardrobe hanger, then it is up to the law man again. The shaman has left the room while I was sitting down to take care of business, he at once starts packing because he wants to return home as soon as he can. I and the police officer finalize the to-do list and it is far from short! The doctor is still investigating the dead one and he can soon after conclude that death has taken place, a death for natural reasons and he has a talk with me about which name is to be written in the death warrant and it of course has to be Peter Rollins. I take a look at the dead me under the blanket, I am happy that the nurse put a plastic blanket under the bed blanket for the bed blanket is a big pool of blood. Death is sometimes a big mess... It might even be that I will have to dump all the bedstead, the mattress I will anyhow need to have a close look at. And the bed linen it is nothing but sending in the wastebin. The doctor tells me that I shouldn't send it into the ordinary garbage, it is to be regarded as biologically risky waste and it should to be treated as such. The doctor looks at me and tells me something I didn't see while it happened because I was still in trance: Under the blanket this looks nasty and believe me, it was an awful sight to behold during the death throes too. He had spasms and shivers while the blood flowed out of him, his eyes popped open and his eyes were stiff, like he gazed at something (I have a hunch at what) - and then it was suddenly at end, he became still and his eyes became empty. You lay and shivered too but it didn't look quite so bad as for him because there was of course no blood. Then I hear the door bell ringing, it is the people from the funerary agency who has come to take away my remains. I go down and open for them, with the OK of the police officer because the death warrant has been signed now, declaring the death a natural one. It is a tough job with readying the body and I need to join in with it too, but finally the stretcher with the body strapped on is carried downstairs and into the agency car. When that has left the doctor leaves too for now the police has the death warrant. There isn't much more to do here for a doctor. Shortly after a police car arrives, the police officer driving it gives me a letter. The police officer present at the reincarnation smiles at me and declares that this letter has been hand delivered me because it is an important sheet of paper, it will be my key to my new life now about to begin. I than them for their assistance, then the police officers take place in the car and drive away. I am at long last alone. First Evening in My New Life Back indoors there is plenty to take care of. The shaman is keeping at his room and will hardly disturb me. Which is good for now I need to get acquainted with my new body. First of all I go to the main corridor mirror and dress off, it is time to go for the "discovery voyage" of my lifetime. I look at my profile, the hair goes down to below my shoulder blades. Naked face - good bye moustache, no need for shaving blades any more. Well well, I have at least no lack of top hair now. No "chest fur" any more but on the other hand two youthfully bulging breasts, further down a rather thin waist and a rather broad hip, OK. A little but not overly thick thighs, in between them a hairy triangle - my "pussy". I turn around and watch my profile again, I can see a reasonably full behind and an obvious swayed back - that sway some men find sexy because it emphasizes the bust and the behind. I put a finger in between the feet and find a skin fold, my labia I understand. In the front end of it I find a small, sensitive "bean", it must be my clitoris, or in coarse speaking my "clit". Behind that there should be a hole but I can't find it - I am a virgin! I take a mirror, put it between my feet and take a look what it looks like down there, unlike boys a girl looking down will only see some hair unless with a mirror! Well, it looks like I have been turned into a female. So it was to dress up again, I don't feel like making Rukhshana prediction come true when she guessed that I would dress up in skirt or dress again. Underwear is on, up to her locker and find trousers and a t-shirt better suited for me, and put them on. I put on garment according to the butchy style I have decided for, I talked it over with her a couple of weeks ago and she had some reservations against it - which I am not about to care the least about! I did NOT promise to become her clone! I watch myself in the mirror again - no mean girl this, a guy has spoken! I go through the rest of her wardrobe and find many girly things. Some cosmetics, some more cheap bijouterie and on my left wrist a dirt cheap watch - it will hardly keep out for long. Turning my head I can feel it dangle - I pick out the ear adornment, it isn't very valuable stuff so into the jewelry box I put it. Furthermore there are ladies' garment so decidedly feminine that this man - within my head at least - never will care to wear them, her night gown for instance. I put them in some plastic bags and put them away down in the basement, too bad to throw them into the garbage! But there is one item of garment I decide to get rid of completely and at once, it is her veil. I know that she came from a country where Islam may not be the state religion but there are still many believers there. She was a convinced atheist herself but she sure had sufficient manners to not trample rules of nice feminine manners in such environments. I on the other hand have no plans to go visiting any such place so her burka, of the Arabian type with open face, goes to the wastebin. If I for some reason should need to go somewhere like that a black "mealy sack dress" with a head scarf also find in her locker should do. Having finished the "weeding" of the female attire and what I don't intend to wear nicely put away, I go downstairs to do likewise in my own locker. On my way down there I notice something. Always since I was a small boy I have had the small bad habit with walking with my hands deep down in my trouser pockets as soon as they were not busy somehow. But with the tight trousers I just put on there is no place for all hands in those pockets, only down to my knuckles. There is probably no place for keys and wallet either. I remember what my parted wife Bridget said about this affair, that this is what forces women to use purses - no pockets in skirts and dresses! I walk back to Rukhshana's wardrobe and try another and roomier trousers, but it doesn't look businesslike proper, it will be for home use only. Well, seems like I should put a practical purse for office use on my shopping list for tomorrow, the one I have inherited from Rukhshana is simplicity itself but it will do the first days. So I go down to my own bedroom and work through my male wardrobe in the same way. Some items are easily usable still, like a couple of scarves, a bowtie, some neckties and three belts. Some are more doubtful but get their OK after a try out, like sweaters, jumpers, socks and some t-shirts - but the t-shirt with the motive a wrestler defeating an opponent will be rather to unsuitable for wearing nowadays... Some items are just to be put away, either because I can't use them any more - shaving blades, men's underwear, bathing suit etc., or because a lot of tailor work will be needed to make them fit me now - like trousers, shirts, fur cap and the like, it will be simpler to buy all new. After shave I retain for it may be used as a kind of eau de cologne, smelling like a neat, well mannered and clean gentleman sounds interesting. Gentleman's adornment like silver cuff buttons and a golden tie clasp I retain for the same reason, my golden watch on the other hand is too large for my present wrist so I put it aside. It could be a fine present to someone one day and I better get myself a new one for my gala attire. In a small box I find our two wedding rings, the one that was mine is too large for my present ring finger so I do likewise with that one, also for a gift to someone one day, who knows... Bridget's ring is there too and it is probably better suited nowadays - if I should end up together with somebody... All right, wardrobes have been weeded out for the undesirable, of both categories. The two thinned out wardrobes are then joined and I write a list of garment items needed in the coming time, I better go to town tomorrow to purchase them, at first open day in the shops. In the bedstead where Peter laid blood is all over, so I take the plastic blanket below and pack around - what a miracle, the plastic blanket has done its job, the mattress and the bed are not bloodied. So I roll all of it together with the plastic blanket on the outside and pull a black garbage plastic bag around all of it, tie the sack shut with a rope and make a knot on it to make it stick. I better go to the hospital tomorrow to ask them tu put this hazardous garbage in their furnace. I get the police officer's list and cross out the points about "wardrobe weeding" and tidying after the deathbed. Next point on the list is to write the shaman a nice letter of recommendation together with the rest of his payment, as a guarantee for his competence with powerful magic for his coming customers. I pick out the money in an envelope I have hidden in the house. Evening is coming, I deck a supper meal for the shaman and myself, while we are sitting and eating I hand over the envelope with money and my letter of recommendation. He receives them with gratitude expressed in miserable English. I cross over one more point on the to-do list. I was starving when sitting down at the table but I am soon satisfied - a smaller body is more economical than a larger one in this way. It has been the possibly most eventful day of all my life, and I have just started getting used to my new life. But now I am dead tired. I am early in bed. First Day with Things to Do on Town This night I dream that I am stuck in a wise. When awaking I feel it tight over my chest. Then I am suddenly wide awake and I understand why - I have been lying on my belly while asleep like I have been used to, but then the bust I now have is squeezed. Well, I'll probably learn to sleep on my back or my side in time. I get up, have a morning shower - I can clearly feel how the shower feels differently now, the water streams at new body parts and along new ways over my naked body, and when drying myself afterwards I get new sensations too. I dry my long hair, Rukhshana explained me how and I come to experience that it really is quite a job to tend to long hair, I make up my mind that I'll have it shortened a good deal, I mostly prefer the simple and easy in every occasion. I have hung the towel around my hips while I am doing this likek I have been use to - leaving chest (and bust...) bare. And I dress up in new and clean attire. Then I give the shaman the wake up call and deck a breakfast for both of us. When the breakfast has been eaten and the table has been tidyed, first task for today is imminent. I drive the shaman to the airport and give him my heartfelt gratitude and I wish him a safe journey home - I think he understood what I tried to tell him... Then I hand in my car to a car repair workshop so that they can lift the driver's seat some inches up and forward, so that I get a better overview and not so tightly stretched arms, I have become a good deal smaller of stature. They get all day to do this small refitting, so I can probably go to fetch it back in the afternoon, I have lots to do these days and I need my car. So the great garment shopping day commences, now I am out to get garment suiting my body better than the gentlemen's garment and my male habit better than the ladies' garment I have. For gala and office use first, I purchase a black tuxedo set and an off-black trouser with a blue blazer. Furthermore some shirts with collar, a couple of them white and none in pastel hues, and a couple of polo sweaters with high collar. A pajama to replace the soiled one and the night gown I can't stand wearing. For more everyday office use I buy a khaki jacket and trousers to match. In these attires I make no secret of my gender - the way I now look that would be useless. But in such attire I stress independence, practicality and frugality, fitting me perfectly. For homely use I purchase some sweaters, some practical trousers etc. I note that I better get me a new fur cap when nitted caps are no longer warm enough in the winter. It should be my size but ladylike style is no demand to it. Some more feminine cloth are needed, a couple of warm tights for instance - a smaller body is more sensitive to cold. And some very feminine items are hardly avoidable, like underwear and some swimwear for beach and pool. There are no "silly details" to those I buy and not the tanga type either. Swimwear? A simple and straightforward bikini with leopard spots, not cut like a tanga or any such seductive... I better not risk trouble by egging on guys out to seduce me... There are other things to do to. At the hairdresser I have my hair cut far shorter. I go to the shoe shop and get me new shoes, both for leisure time, worktime and gala use. Rukhshana left me only three shoe pairs - slippers for indoors use, the well worn sneakers on my feet right now and the high heeled gala shoes I don't want to walk on under any circumstance whatsoever. High heels are not for me, I like my strong back see, and then the choice for elegant lady footwear is rather limited. My old gentleman's shoes would have been all right but they were far too large for my present feet so I gave them away. I finally end up with going downstairs to the gentlemen's department and buy shoes made for teenager boys. And I go to a accessory dealer, I buy an office suitcase with shoulder band also practical as a purse - navy blue in colour and absolutely not in pastel hue! Shopping done, it is time to get started with public affairs. First of all a copying office gets to copy the letter from the police in a hundred copies, this letter is so special that I'll probably need many copies of it. Next affair is to get me a lot of passport photographs - I will need many of them in the coming days. I go to the Public Registry, present my letter and have records of me revised, and I include a legal name change to a westernized version of her name, Roxane. The IRS office in the same building issues me a new tax report card when seeing the letter. I go to the police and get me a new passport for ID use, and the bank revises my personalia. And - that was the end of office hours of today. I better start over tomorrow. I am tired after walking all over downtown so I get me something in my stomach and then I knock at the door of the car repair man. He gets to see the police letter too - I am the rightful owner of this car and I am in my right to take it! So at long last I walk through my door at home again. At home again I sit down with various documents about myself and rote learn my new personalia, I am for instance no longer born February 15th 1949 but August 11th 1991 and my name is no more Peter William Rollins but Roxane Rollins. I need to write letters to various public offices, to the city registry of real estate and request my house, car and other properties transferred to my new identity, to my alma mater university to update my diploma etc. The police letter copy is also sent as an inclusion to various businesses where I am a customer, like insurance company, cleaning agency etc., for the sake of formality to my own company too. It is good to have the list I and the police officer worked out, something could otherwise have been forgotten and there might have been trouble. A wearisome day is at end and I go to bed. But lying there the image of the young lady selling shoes keeps lingering in my thoughts. I remember how hot my cheeks became when she saw that I peered at her, I hope she didn't understand that I was seriously interested in her... Long haired brunette, without ring on her finger... those "jugs" ought to have been in my hands... when she handed me a new pair to try out she leaned so well forward that I got a good gaze down her cleavage - I felt an urge to put my hand down there... Then she turned around to get a new pair from the shelf - if only I could have taken those two behind parts in my two hands... I could feel a titillating sensation between my legs and I could feel movement in something that was no longer present... "phantom pain" in other words. I am happy as can be that it isn't too evident that a girl is "horny" - except my blushing. I am happy too that I managed to keep my cool after all, and I understand that my romantic longing isn't for him but for her. My thoughts about her give me no rest. I turn around in the bed and suddenly discover that I am almost dripping wet between my feet and I can feel it tight in my bra, I dress off and can see how nipples are erect, and the phantom pains in my groing are aching. Oh yes - I am simply aroused the girly way plus in my memory from my male years! I understand that having had more than forty years taken off my age means that hormones are flushing in my veins again. So I make up my mind to try to kick them out, I try several ways without succeeding. In the end I roll the blanket to a roll and sit down astride it, then I succeed in a way. I lean down forward and embrace the roll, and play "Donna Juana": I phantasize a long story about meeting her on town, inviting her home to me, finally ending up in bed with her. I push and push a no longer present genital into the phantasy girl, I get more and more aroused - I would have exploded if I still had been a male but I no longer am so I somehow can't come. This happens again the coming days, that blanket really gets a rough time! I discover that I come higher up when I sit upright than lying down on the roll. Fun it was anyhow and then I manage to fall asleep. That night I dream that I as Peter court her energetically. She is willing, we end up in bed together, garment is flung off and we are in each other's embrace - but oh no, I discover that I am castrated! I am a eunuch! I feel so very helpless! Later Days with Things to Do on Town So I wake up to my second whole day in new shape and I rise. A strenuous day on town yesterday - I can smell it on my pajama! Not only that, the smell of female sweat isn't quite the same as male sweat, I have known so for a long time - and now this smell is coming from me! No choice but to have a shower again. After a fast breakfast later it is time to grab the line from yesterday. First of all it is time to post letters to many public authorities written yesterday evening. I go around to my neighbours and put the copy of the police letter in each post box, nobody should need to be suspicious even though the old guy living there has disappeared and a young woman has shown up instead. Even more agencies to go to, to the public library to have a new patron card, the car school need to write me a new driving licence, at the post office I write a permanent move report form my public housing to the mansion - that is what it looks like, formally and administratively. Furthermore I buy a season ticket to the local swimming pool, I haven't used to go there so often but I'll probably need some workout. I once used to go for classical wrestling but that is hardly any suitable sport for me any more. I give the bag of soiled bed linen to the hospital and ask them to put it in their furnace. Quite apart from this I need to buy groceries... I have occasion for long term habituation too these days. It is for instance unavoidable to sometimes forget significant things. I for instance occasionally end up in the wrong toilet or wardrobe, once I am even standing in front of the urinal intending to take a leak, rooting for something male in my underwear without finding it - it takes some seconds before I figure why not... Luckily there wasn't anyone else present at the moment, it could have been a very embarrassing event! More than once I write application forms and other documents signing them "Peter Rollins" not what is correct from now on, "Roxane Rollins". However I had a hunch that so could happen so I brought a lot of copies of those papers. It does take its time before I get a handle on the ladywear I should wear after all, however "butchy" style I prefer, how to put on the bra for instance. I soon decide not to polish my nails, I better keep true to the style I have decided for! Then I have business with the local pastor to seek his advice - I am an atheist by outlook but I need to give the passed body and the passed soul a decent funeral. Even if it is atheists we are talking about it still is the priest who is the expert on such affairs, this is after all a rather peculiar situation... The priest comments upon hearing what I tell him, proved by the police letter copy: It sounds to me like Our Lord has a special plan for You, since He let You over that barrier! Well, I am a steadfast atheist but I can't deny my thougth that some superior power must have had a hand on the knob to the door that was opened to me. It is in any case for sure that I have a massive debt of gratitude to pay down, it is probably larger than I anyone can pay down, but nonetheless I have to try. So I intend to ask the stone carvers to put this inscription on the tombstone, I think it is suitable but what do you think? The funerary agency lets me have a last, parting look to say good bye to my old me. I in other words see myself in the coffin, clean and adorned, all the blood has been washed away and the bloody pajama has been replaced by a neat shroud - but it probably isn't very astonishing that it wasn't comfortable to see myself in a coffin... The mourning celebration some days later is a solemn one, with people from the company and many of the immigrants present. No religious rituals, it is an atheist - or rather two halves of two - who are consigned to the eternal rest. On the tombstone, put alongside my wife Bridget's, there are no religious symbols but an engraved text, in English as well as her own language, translated by one of Rukhshana's compatriots. This text is shaped like a vase, so colourful flowers are engraved jutting up from the top of the vase. I am present when my will is read up, my lawyer looks at me with a witty glance and comments that reading this text is but a formality for it is really no necessity, I know the content already because I am the author to it... And he comments, still with that glance, how much my signature looks like the signature of a man by the name of Peter Rollins he once knew. Those signatures look like this: Peter W. Rollins and Roxane Rollins. One evening I come home, after yet another busy day, I remain admiring my new looks in the mirror. The thought strikes me: Happy that I married with Bridget before I met with Rukhshana, for otherwise there is no telling how it might have ended... This night I dream a "hot" dream again: I am making love with Rukhshana. I do to her all such things I would have done before my transfer had I had my opportunity - I was seriously ill and in my sixties at that time, a seriously ill man has hardly much potency and neither have a man well up in age... So when I in the morning go rather groggy to the bathroom to have a quick wash - I am startled awake because in the mirror I behold the woman I was making love with in my dream! It takes some seconds before I realize that the girl in the mirror actually is me! What is the meaning of this dream - I have an idea about it... It is a corroboration of what my blushing face told me when I saw that girl in the shoe shop! A Weekend to Rest, Think and Prepare It is Saturday and weekend, I have opportunity to cool it down, my first week in a female body has been busy. I was at town yesterday and bought groceries so there is no reason to go to town. So I take it easy, I walk barefoot in my slippers, dress in roomy trousers, a t-shirt and topless within it - today my boobs are having a day off! Should I start thinking about well done young girls today then so be it, my nipples are allowed to strut today! I'm not feeling like doing anything at the kitchen and certainly not going to town, so later in the day a pizza is delivered me. I spend a lot of time in front of the TV set today, Rukhshana said during the weeks before my body switch that nice girls won't put their feet on the table or spread their legs when sitting upright, but that I'll remember for everdays - today I couldn't care less about "nice ladylike manners"! I watch some commercials during and between the movies, and can't deny that all the ads for cosmetics, ladywear, household accessories and child care stuff rebuffs me, those things are made for a woman totally different from me! I see that there is a program about technological history in the afternoon, so I get all necessary housework done and go to the toilet beforehand, so that there will be no disturbings from nature's necessities. But five minutes before it starts there is ringing on the door bell so I go down and open. It is just a boy selling tickets for a charity lottery, so he gets a dollar for a ticket. But now it is starting in a minute so I run heel over neck upstairs. Up in the living room I switch on and I have made a new female experience: When I am in physical movement I will need to wear bra, when I sprinted up the stairs my bust swayed so that it was rather uncomfortable. I dream again that night - I feel that I as Peter am walking around with a bust measuring a whole cubic meter... Then it is Sunday and now my muscles are starting to itch, a whole week has gone by since I was transferred. I should get to work again! I have been out of it for more than two months now so you better get moving you lazybone! So that day is mostly devoted to preparing for my first workday after my change. I phone the leader of the expert team to announce my return, and since I am coming back as myself - however in a new apparition - they will be excused from their charges. Chairman of the council of partners Edward Gardella is given the same message and he explains me about affairs up for debate at the meeting tomorrow. It is an ordinary meeting but there is time for an extraordinary case like this, he affirms. Furthermore I spend some time with planning in as many details as possible what will happen tomorrow. What am I going to say to whom and with which gesticulations, how to dress, who to have a careful discussion with, what should be written in letters to customers, business contacts, public registries, technical associations... I stress down to the best of my ability for what is to come tomorrow. Luckily there is more than one way to calm nerves, e.g. physical activity is very effective. And a good occasion for physical activity is on offer today - it is winter and there has been snow in the night, I better get my snow mower out and started! But a warning Rukhshana gave me in the weeks before my reincarnation occurs to me: Never sit down on icy cold in winter! Danger for bladder ill! An urinary tract inflammation is easily contracted, painful to have and problematic to get rid of. That I easily understood from what she told me, I also remember how Bridget avoided sitting down on benches during winters - except when she could sit down on my lap... It is an advice developed through centuries, well into the 1800s it was uncommon for women to wear any underwear at all, only layer upon layer of petticoats. So when I go out to mow the snow I take care to put on something warm down under. No matter if I sweat like a sponge while I do the mowing, I take a shower when I am in again and put the underwear in the laundry bag. And it is a well known affair that cold make the bladder tighten, the break in the mowing is irritating but even if I might have done it the simple way - creeping into some garden bushes and pulling down trousers and panty - that is still not how to do it, I go indoors. This much I certainly understood of her advices. That evening a very important decision for all my life to come is taken, one which I have been mulling at the past evenings. I felt no lovely feelings for the gentlemen I saw at the police, at the car mechanic or any of the public offices, but my emotions when I beheld the young woman in the shoe shop were unmistakeable. It is clear to me, my longings are something I have inherited from Pete, for slender young ladies. Handsome young men is not for me. Simulating emotions for males will probably be seen through sooner or later, many are aware of my metamorphosis and will suspect it from the start. It could be a lengthy period with getting used to ladylike attire, manners and all that, and revealed I'll probably be sooner or later no matter. I better be open about it from first minute, that I have no rosy emotions for males just for females so I behave accordingly. The reason that many with such emotions "remain in the locker" even if they do realize their tendencies, is of course that they don't want the "evil eye" from the rest of the world, since they grow up like that they have good training in keeping the "locker door" tightly closed. I on the other hand am as high up in social esteem as I care to be, I am the majority stakeholder in my firm and its self evident manager, my company is well connected with its market, I am not experienced with simulating emotions and with a frank attitude to it I should be able to retain the respect I have. This is my choice - either simulating emotions I don't have and a behavior not natural for me, probably futile in the long run - or accepting myself the way I have become, body and soul. In every relation and situation in life, in private and public, and take the problems arising head on. The choice is simple, I am after all mentally a male still, thinking carefully beforehand and then push ahead on without hesitation, and always after standing by the decision taken, this is regarded as a male virtue and it is how I was brought up, it is still in me. Decision taken. The "locker door" is slammed shut behind me. A wonderful little thought is now reverberating in my head - may be I even can even court that shoe selling girl now? My heart makes a somersault! I phantasize a little how I can invite her for a good dinner on town, then home to me and then we can sit and talk about things. And I'll find out about her heart friend - none for the time? Interested in males - or may it be sufficient with a gal preferring to behave like a tomboy, even with a severe lack of y-cromosomes - how about me??? I become short of breath and can feel a tingle between my legs, I now know that it is because it is getting moist down there. When I then go to bed, I can feel that my hips has got a life of their own - it is probably from this the seducingly swaying behind of hot girls are coming - an instinctive signal for a boy that YOU are the chozen one! This is another night when the blanket isn't allowed rest for a long time. SHE is in my phantasy now, and in my phantasy I excuse myself and walk to the restroom. So I undress and don a morning gown, when I rejoin her I find her in likewise. I tell her: You see, here is a man of a rather special kind. Just have a look! So my morning gown fall off and I am standing in front of her with a very un-male look. She smile, does likewise - and then we are face to face with little more than nature gave us. This is the starting shot to eager activity! Afterwards I keep on pondering about the day of tomorrow before falling asleep. I dream again that night. For the first time I dream about myself in my new shape, dressed in bowtie and tuxedo... I am standing on a theater stage, in the backdrop I see my Peter - shape and he says: One - two - three, now the curtain is rising! Good luck Roxy! So the curtain rises and all the public in the hall see me, on first row I eye the girl in the shoe shop. I call out: Here I am like I have become, receive me well! I hear both booing and applause but it is the applause that get the upper hand. And SHE is joining in the applause! First Day at Job after My Ordeal It is Monday morning and while I am sitting with my breakfast I am "psyching up" for the "bottleneck" just ahead. I need to make a good impression on my folks from first moment on so that I get to retain the respect they had for me. I repeat again and again what is to happen when, what to say and how etc. So I take place in my car and drive there. On the way I try to stress down and take charge over my nerves, I tell myself that this is a job I can master - I have been in it for close to forty years! But there is no denying that I am nervous when I drive my car into the company garage and leave it. But I swallow, step out of the car, hang the suitcase on my shoulder and stride up the stairs and along in the corridor in the entry hall to the office wing. It is evident to everyone watching that it isn't Rukhshana who is stepping out of the CEO's grey metallic Chevy at five past eight AM and walks through the corridor with determined steps, dressed in black tuxedo with a white shirt and flowery necktie, on low heeled shoes with low socks inside and a roomy suitcase hanging in a shoulder band. I don't know it at the time but my coming wife is among those eyeing me while I am walking through the corridor, and she is nodding interestedly to what she sees. The first task of today is to have a careful update from the expert team how things are going after my absence of two months. I have taken some phones but a complete update is useful still. At ten it is time to meet my business partners, I present my letter from the police so they don't need to doubt that I am me when I am taking back the control. The expert team members are invited along, they are given my gratitude for keeping wheels rolling while I have been unable, they get a small bouquet each and everyone, ordered at Friday. Then there are more everyday affairs to take care of. After lunch, at one PM, a grand meeting is held, now I present myself for all the employees. I display a copy of the police letter on the computer projector and I hold a little speech. How do you do, all of you! A good two months ago you saw me leave this place as Pete Rollins, now I am Roxy Rollins, as documented by the "coppers". As you can see I have inherited the body of my wife Rukhshana - given my debt of gratitude to her it follows that nobody will ever say one word against her anywere I am close! - but inside my head I am still the same old Pete. So nobody ought to confuse us! (Blinking my eye) My attire for today is a little special for it is a day to mark it when I get going again after such an event as I have been through, but for everydays and partytime you will see that I haven't changed much more than what anatomy and decency now demands from me. (I make the mien of a strict teacher) There is something I have to make all of you aware of, sooner rather than later. Discrimination of sexes was banned before, it shouldn't be hard to understand why it is even less welcome now. "Gay" people are not to be treated anything different from everyone else, harassment of them was unwanted before and now it is simply forbidden, put two and two together and you'll probably understand why I am most stridently insisting on this. Bullying of ethnic and religious minorities is also something I don't want to see, now more than ever, I owe an immigrant of another background my very life - though convinced atheist. Proven cases of such behavior will give a serious and formal warning and if repeated it will be reason for dismissal in disgrace. Just so you understand why this measure is taken. Any questions? (I smile and doff my head) A little hard that wording, but I thought it over yesterday and decided that I better state my position clear from first moment on. I have ended up in a female body now, there may be some who balk at the thought that a young and probably in the opinion of many "photo model good looking" girl is to take charge in a business where many will say that "male gender is fashionable". All the more since I now look exotic. Even more so because I now belong to the "gay" community. I don't realize it while on the pulpit but she who one day is to become my wife is sitting and listening interestedly to what I am saying that day. After the grand meeting, at three PM, I sit down at my old office desk again. I quickly notice that I need to adjust the seat up a little, I am shorter in my body now than formerly. The day is at end and I have a talk with my office secretary Wilma to plan what is to be taken care of the coming days, it is wonderful to be at it again! Ideas are thronging in my head! Best of all: Wilma tells me that she has had a little talk with people after the grand meeting and I seem to have made the impression I wanted. I get to feel female solidarity for my first time... And that is the end of my first working day after my reincarnation. Sitting homeward bound in my car it strikes me how lucky I am to experience this change in our moderen days, not too long ago "her place in life was of course at home",