Bikini Beach
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Life After Bikini Beach free porn video
Life After Bikini Beach
I can't believe this is me.
My life is nothing like I expected it to be.
I'm not talking about the fact that I'm a girl. I chose that. I went to
Bikini Beach on my eighteenth birthday and bought a lifetime pass. I knew
what I was doing. I did it because I liked the sex.
I know that sounds pathetic. Like I allowed base desires to control the
most profound choice I will ever make in my life. But it really wasn't any
more complicated than that. I never had a feminine epiphany. I never
thought I was a woman trapped in a man's body. I didn't have family
relationships that abruptly improved because I became a girl. I wasn't a
loser guy whose head got turned by becoming attractive and popular. Being
a girl wasn't something I wanted my whole life.
My friend Mike and I discovered Bikini Beach by accident.
The surprise isn't that I ended up becoming Tasha. I really believed I
made that choice with my eyes open. I just expected a very different
outcome.
* * *
It started the day Mike and I were driving back home from a summer
football camp. We stopped for gas and found a local restaurant rather than
suffer through tasteless fast food. That's when we spotted it. A huge
water park that, somehow, we had never heard of though it was less than 2
hours from our hometown.
I don't know, given what I later discovered about the place, maybe it has
magical commercials that only capture the attention of its target market.
Because, otherwise, I could not imagine how the place was not overwhelmed
with a horde of guys.
Mike and I could not believe our eyes. A huge water park with elaborate
rides and attractions. Some serious money had been pumped into this place.
And the girls. They were hot. Tall and willowy, short and curvy, fierce
amazons, perky cheerleaders, and teeny little ballerinas that you just
wanted to attack. Blondes, brunettes, red-heads, and strawberry blondes
in every imaginable shade. Most of them wore the eponymous bikini's that
the place was named for.
It was our 17-year-old idea of heaven.
Mike and I stared at each other in bewilderment. Finally, he broke our
almost religious silence, "Dude! We can't drive home now."
I eagerly nodded.
How simply I did that. I had no sense of that I was facing a significant
moment. No music played inside my head. No suppressed tension tugged at my
awareness. I had no idea what my silent act of agreement would mean for
me.
I had just made the decision that defined my life.
Mike drove through the gate and allowed the pretty parking lot attendants
to direct us to a spot. We piled onto a tram that apparently was headed
for the front gate. All around us were women. Old, young, middle-aged.
Many of them were VERY attractive.
Yet, the whole trip was weird. We flirted with two nearby cuties who were
far from the hottest women we had seen, but were sitting right next to us.
They seemed amused at our efforts and freely answered us, but seemed to be
sharing some kind of silent joke with many of the women around us. I
couldn't figure out what, but there seemed to be something they knew and
we just weren't clued in on.
Sigh. We were in a crowd of women. What else was new?
I don't know how they did it. Just how DID women make any guy who invaded
girl space feel like the fairer sex shared a store of profound knowledge
that he could not hope to understand. Women could nullify your strength
and power by tying you up in the bonds of feminine mystique.
No wonder the Puritans burned them as witches.
We soon arrived at the front gate and we fell in line (a really appealing
one) in front of the ticket booth. Even though we hadn't expected to go
swimming, we didn't look out of place. We were both wearing athletic
shorts that looked enough like swim suits that we could manage. Some
people swiped cards and headed right through the turnstiles. However, I
wasn't in any rush. This was a line I was happy to stand in.
All too soon, we arrived at the booth. Inside was a VERY attractive young
lady somewhere in her late teens or early twenties. She wore a t-shirt
with "Bikini Beach" covering what certainly looked like some very nice
assets. Her name tag read ANYA, in block letters.
She laughed when she caught the direction of our gaze. "What can I do for
you guys?"
Mike answered, "We'd like a couple of tickets."
She brightly replied, "We don't sell tickets. This is a private park. But,
we do have guest passes. Let me check what's available."
She turned to the computer at her desk while playing her fingers over the
keys, but the whole thing seemed somehow fake to me. He attention seemed
to be somewhere off in space, despite the fixed stare she gave to the
screen before her.
She snapped out of her trance and turned toward us. "We do have one-day
passes available." Then she cited a price.
I choked.
"Are you kidding me?" I demanded. "I don't have that much in my wallet."
She shrugged.
Mike whipped out his bank card. "I got it, dude. You can owe me."
As she ran the card she said, "Make sure you shower before you enter the
park, guys. It's a health code regulation. We can't let you in if you
don't."
She directed us to the men's locker room, which struck me as surprisingly
small from the outside. Inside, I couldn't believe how new and clean it
looked. It was as if hardly any guys had used the thing since the park
opened. How could that be? Guys should be swarming all over this place
with all the eye candy around here. I know I was already planning on a
return trip.
Mike and I stripped off our clothes, stuffed them in lockers, and headed
off to the showers. This was nothing new. We've been on the same football
team since middle-school. We'd showered in the same locker room many
times.
I turned the tap and stepped under the nozzle, while Mike did the same
thing a few feet to my right. The water flowed warm and strong without any
need to wait for it to heat up. A pinkish mist rose around us. I kind of
wondered what kind of light effect made it look like that.
After a few moments, the water seemed to be hitting my hide with unusual
force. Or else my skin was suddenly sensitive for some unknown reason.
That was the last thought that crossed my mind before I heard the scream.
Panicked high-pitched shrieks sounded from my right. I turned to where I
had seen Mike just moments before and was treated to the sight of a
topless girl wearing nothing but a bikini bottom. She was looking down at
her chest with a shocked expression scrawled across her face. Her head
snapped up and turned in my direction as if she were seeking support, but
when her pupils locked onto me she looked as if she were staring at a
stranger.
That was when I looked down at my own chest.
It was all I could do not to faint. Right there below my clavicle jutted
two proud, fleshy orbs that looked completely wrong from this point of
view. They were beautiful breasts--like ones you only see in a magazine
because real life girls didn't have anything this perfect.
They were nice. They were mesmerizing. But they sure as hell didn't belong
on me.
I sharply inhaled, ready to join my locker-room companion in hysterical
screams when the girl from the ticket booth appeared at the entrance to
the shower. She held a bikini top in each hand.
"Ladies. There's no topless bathing in this park. You need to put these
on."
We took the proffered garments and tied them on without thinking.
The girl to my right sputtered, "What did you do to us?"
I belatedly realized that if I had been turned into a girl, then the
person to my right had to be Mike. Yeah. I know. I wasn't exactly swift,
today. But, you try getting transformed into the opposite sex by some
freaky pink mist and see how fast your brain works.
Mike was cute. She was about 5'8" with pixie cut auburn hair and a body
that looked like a well-tuned track athlete. Modest breasts, but still
enough to notice. Firm muscles smoothed by soft feminine flesh. I'd have
dated her.
Anya replied, "My grandmother created this park as a haven for women.
That's why men aren't allowed."
I shouted, "So you turned us into women for the rest of our lives?!?"
A broad smile burst across Anya's face. How could she smile like that
after what she had done to us?
"You guys only bought a one day pass. You'll turn back at midnight."
We slumped over in relief. This wasn't forever. Things would go back to
normal. Thank God.
The relief was short-lived. Everything was wonderful for that brief
instant during which we realized we were not trapped as girls for
eternity. But, as that fact sunk in, outrage consumed me. What made this
girl think she could play her freaky games with us?
Mike demanded, "How did you do this?"
Anya replied, "Magic."
I must have looked like a beached fish when I heard that. My mouth opened
and closed as I discarded numerous possible replies. I wanted to deny that
magic was possible. I wanted to ask if she thought we were idiots. But our
present forms provided ample evidence for the existence of magic. As
impossible as it seemed, she had to be telling the truth.
I shrilled, "And that makes it OK?"
My voice was so...so girly.
Anya retorted. "And just why were you two so anxious to come into our
park? I know for a fact that it had nothing to do with water slides."
"You know?"
"I know."
I rolled that around in my head for awhile. She was claiming to be able to
read our minds. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of asking her about
it.
Anya added, "I can't do it all the time. I have to be specifically
concentrating on you to hear anything worthwhile. So, I know you wanted to
meet girls. And I know you aren't really bad guys."
"Then why...."
"This will help you. You will be better off."
Apparently, she could read the future too--or else she wanted us to think
she could.
Again that voice spoke to my right that I still could not think of as
belonging to Mike, "What are we supposed to do now?
Anya smirked. "Enjoy the park. That's why we built it."
Before we could reply, she continued, "There are a few ground rules you
need to know. First, you aren't allowed to talk about your transformation.
You'll find that you CAN'T tell others, so don't even try. You'll just
freak out when your voice starts saying things that never crossed your
mind. Second, the magic includes some memory changes. If you go home, call
your friends, or meet someone you know, they'll remember you as the girls
you now appear to be. We also gave you a few 'girl skills' so you won't
fall all over yourselves trying to do things that you should be able to do
in your sleep. Just look at how easily you put on those bikini tops.
Third, your names are now Tasha and Michelle. You won't be able to tell
anyone anything different. Same deal as talking about the park."
I snorted, "Is that all?"
"No," she replied. "One more thing. Don't get pregnant. Otherwise the
change becomes permanent."
For some reason, she looked right at me as she spoke that last sentence.
She did not even glance in Mike's direction.
Once I stepped out of the shower, I noticed a full-length mirror in the
locker-room. I could not help but examine my own reflection. From what I
had already seen of my own body, I suspected I would be cute. But, what I
saw in the mirror...
Damn.
The girl in the mirror did not look like a model. Her face lacked the
chiseled perfection that you see in Sports Illustrated or in the
Victoria's Secret show. But, wow. Guys would stare. Hell, I was staring.
She was about 5'2" and 105 pounds. I know that doesn't sound very
exciting, but you aren't looking at what I was seeing in the mirror. She
had the magical combination of a thin, willowy frame with lush curves. Not
just her breasts and ass, but her arms, legs and calves displayed a
delicious layer of fat that made every inch ooze sensuous grace. Her
measurements probably wouldn't seem all that impressive on a stat sheet.
But, living, breathing, and walking around--she was ravishing.
She had lustrous black hair that spilled over her shoulders in glossy
waves. She had polychromatic eyes that looked either blue or green
depending on the play of light. Her finger and toenails were immaculately
enameled in baby-pink polish, which highlighted tiny, fragile digits that
looked like they might break if an oafish man shook her hand without
careful restraint.
She had a cute, innocent face that when combined with that body would
confront men with both a raging need to fuck her while simultaneously
wanting nothing more than to protect her.
Mike was staring, too--and the only testosterone in his system came from
memory.
Michelle broke the silence, "You're lucky there's only women out there."
"Shut up."
Even Tasha's voice was perky innocence that made a guy yearn to shove his
penis down her throat.
God was I a misogynist. I really was. I didn't understand it then. But,
even when I knew that the girl in the mirror was me, I could see nothing
but her potential to gratify men.
Michelle urged, "C'mon, Tasha. Let's go."
"Like this?"
"Think about it, dude. Or would you rather drive home?"
I thought about it. It took me ten seconds to realize that going home
meant walking into a world inhabited by men that would want nothing more
than to...
Yeah. A day at Bikini Beach seemed like a much better idea.
So we went out and swam in the wave pool, shot down slides, and plunged
into shallow water. It took me awhile to realize that the women that
surrounded us held no sex appeal. That was really quite a jarring
discovery. I felt like I was 11 years old again. I had forgotten how much
the desire for sex had taken over my thinking and my life.
For the first time in years, Mike and I just had fun.
Four hours later, I had almost completely forgotten about my sex change.
In Bikini Beach, that didn't really matter. That "magic" must have
seriously scrambled our brains. Another odd thing happened. We started
chatting with women without evaluating them as sex targets.
The day took a turn for the weird when Michelle and I plopped down on the
beach to rest after an active day. We had just spread out our towels when
Tammy Reynolds and Jennifer Stevens waved us over from about fifteen feet
away.
Mike and Ryan knew them from school. We never talked to them. They were
girls who were just sorta there. Tammy sported thick wrists from milking
cows on her parents' dairy farm, while Jennifer was short with a wide rib
cage, broad shoulders and sturdy legs that made her look unfortunately
blocky. They weren't ugly. But, they weren't attractive.
In Tasha and Michelle's reality, however, we knew them well. The four of
us had played on the same club soccer team since we were 10. My mind
flooded with memories of sleepovers, movie nights, and out-of-town
tournaments that the four of us had shared.
The memories surprised me. I couldn't envision sexy little Tasha as
anything but decorative. Apparently, her delicious little legs could
propel a soccer ball with far greater velocity than I would have ever
imagined. If I had seen a girl with legs like Tasha's just this morning,
the only thing on my mind would have been figuring out how I could get
them wrapped around me.
The minute we spread our towels next to our friends and laid down,
Jennifer eagerly said, "Can you BE-lieve what Rebecca did?"
Rebecca was our club team coach. Michelle and I stared blankly at her.
Tammy broke in, "You didn't hear? What happened to your cell phones?"
Michelle and I exchanged glances. "I guess we hit a dead zone."
Jennifer seemed happy to have news to tell. "Rebecca's pregnant."
I knew we were supposed to respond, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.
Michelle came to our rescue, "Really? How'd it happen."
The three of us tittered with amused giggles. Yes. I "tittered". Sue me.
Tammy deadpanned, "The normal way--from what I heard."
Michelle's face turned red. She managed to choke out, "You know what I
mean."
Jenny answered, "You remember that guy she met when we went to dinner
after the Jacksonville tournament?"
We nodded.
Jenny continued, "She hooked up with him."
I said, "Is she keeping it?" Where the heck did that come from? I somehow
knew that was the next question to ask and it just came out of my mouth.
"Of course," added Tammy. "That's why we're hearing about it."
Michelle added, "Who found out?"
Jenny answered, "Kelly. Her aunt is best friends with Rebecca going back
to High School."
My girl brain told me that if Rebecca's best friend is the source, that
probably means Rebecca wanted her to spill it to maintain some control of
the story. Allow gossip to run wild without any attention, and you never
knew what would come out the other end.
Girl brain? Just how many renovations had Anya's "magic" made up there?
The thought terrified me. There's nothing like doubting the sanctity of
your own minf to give you cold sweats.
Michelle asked, "When's it due?"
Jenny, who seemed to be the one who was most in-the-know, replied, "Six
months. She should have it by late January."
I said, "It?"
Jenny shrugged "I don't think Rebecca knows yet. Or, if she does, she's
not saying."
We fell silent for awhile, as we soaked up rays from the late-afternoon
sun. In July, the days seemed to last forever so there was still plenty of
light left. In sort order, Jenny directed the conversation to a new topic.
"So, where were you guys that your cell phones were dead?"
For the life of me, I had no idea what "Tasha and Michelle" had been doing
before they walked out of the showers at Bikini Beach. Ryan and Mike had
been at a football camp. Obviously, that wouldn't make any sense for Tasha
and Michelle. I looked blankly back at Jen, before Michelle answered, "I
was picking up Tash from cheer camp."
Cheer camp? Was Michelle just ad-libbing? Or maybe Anya's magic was still
soaking through our brains and was telling her something it hadn't yet
bothered to tell me. Could it work at different rates in different people?
That was an interesting idea. Then I realized something else.
If my deduction proved correct, than the magic was STILL WORKING IN MY
BRAIN. I suddenly wanted to find a big, nasty, iron spike and pith myself
on it.
Jenny seemed no less perturbed than me to hear I had been at cheer camp.
"What was little miss Black Swan doing there?"
That knickname had a bit of history. Three years ago, Tasha, Jen, and
Michelle had been watching Black Swan when Tasha proclaimed that she would
die to look like Natalie Portman. That had been in the middle of the
movie, when none of us had any clue that Natalie would, indeed, die in the
end. The whole event had a delicious forbidden air since none of our
parents would let us see the movie, but Jen had sneaked the DVD out of her
house and brought it to a sleepover at Michelle's house. We were watching
it on a laptop in Michelle's room.
Fourteen-year-old Tasha had weighed all of 85 pounds and looked like a
scrawny skater geek with a boy cut. She had no boobs or butt--and a lot of
girls went out of their way to remind her of it. As thin and little as
Natalie Portman was, she had a beauty that seemed attainable to Tasha.
Over the next year, the figure fairy seemed to grant Tasha her wish--and
then some. At seventeen, Tasha didn't have the pure beauty of her idol,
but Tasha had a raw sex appeal that Natalie lacked.
Yes, I was pulling those memories out of my head. But, they certainly
didn't belong to me. I hadn't lived them.
And, no, I still didn't know why I had been at cheer camp.
Michelle came to my rescue once again. "Because she's sick of that bitch
of a coach we have on our school team. So she's going out for the cheer
squad. And, I don't blame her."
THAT I remembered. Last season, our high school soccer team had endured a
horrible slump. We lost 13 straight games and the coach--well, she was
livid. For some reason she locked onto Tasha as the personification of
everything wrong with the team.
When Tasha started suffering from what her orthopedic surgeon eventually
diagnosed as planar fasciitis, Coach Fett didn't want to hear it. She
ridiculed Tasha by saying things like, "Does Princess have an owwie?" or ,
"Will Your Highness deign to practice today?" Linda Fett bashed Tasha for
her hairstyle, how she wore her uniform, her manicured nails and, most
importantly, for every little failure on the pitch.
Ok, it wasn't for "some" reason. Linda Fett made Tasha the team whipping
girl because of her looks.
Tammy and Jenny chorused their agreement with Michelle's analysis.
Jennifer, however, wasn't satisfied with Michelle's pat answer. She
apparently sensed there was more information to dig out. Jen went right
after it.
"How'd'ya get invited to a cheer camp when you've never been on a squad?"
I answered, "Remember how I did gymnastics until I was twelve?"
Jen and Tammy answered with tandem nods.
"My old club coach is an instructor at the camp. She teaches tumbling. She
asked me to help her out as her assistant. She's been bothering me to go
out for a cheer squad since she found out I wasn't doing anything with her
training."
Jenny asked, "Were cheerleaders from our school there?"
"Sure," I replied. "About half the squad."
"Did'ja talk to them?"
"No. There really wasn't enough time to do more than say, "Hi". I was only
there for an afternoon."
"But just by being there, you won't be a complete outsider when you show
up at tryouts. Smart."
I had no idea what Tasha was thinking when she went to cheer camp. So I
simply agreed with Jen. It was a heck of a lot easier than trying to
fabricate a reason on the fly.
I could see Jenny filing away the info I had just dumped on her. She was
already calculating the right time to bring out the backstory of the new
girl trying out for the cheer squad when we all went back to school in the
fall.
Jen had given up something everyone already knew. In return, she got
something no one else--well, no one but her girls--knew. Better yet, it was
something the freak'n cheer squad was going to want to know. And none of
us could hold a candle to her as an informational nexus. She had just hit
the gossip lottery.
As for me, well, you know the feeling you get when your entire world view
get's blasted to smithereens in less than twenty minutes? Of course you
don't. That kind of change usually takes place as a gradual evolution--if
it ever happens at all. But, it had just happened to me.
The first thing that shocked me was Tasha's memories of getting harassed
for her looks. When I first saw Tasha looking back at me from the mirror,
the "history" I expected for this girl was one of people fawning over her
for most of her life. I never would have expected her to be an "ugly
duckling" as recently as 3 years ago. I also never expected a coach to
pick on her out of obvious jealousy or some kind of weird misogyny.
The second was how Ryan always dismissed Jennifer Stevens as a non-entity.
If the male world is driven by achievement, girl-world seemed to be fueled
by information. Jennifer made her presence felt by her nose for gossip and
her instinct for feeding out those goodies to her advantage
Had Ryan seen Tasha, Michelle, Jennifer, and Tammy grouped together, he
would earmarked Tasha as the obvious Queen Bee. Yet, just having lived
through the real-life experience, it hadn't felt that way at all. If
anything, Jennifer was the strongest personality out of the four of us,
while Tasha was still dealing with numerous social insecurities created
by--of all things--her looks.
Perhaps Mike and I were too inexperienced--and too traumatized--to interact
effectively as natal females. Jennifer and Tammy, however, did not seem to
sense anything wrong. Even if that were true, the last 20 minutes told me
I needed to rethink a lot of my assumptions.
Maybe, just maybe, Anya really was trying to help us.
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