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The Magical Pantry by Tom L?ger Something was wrong, but Sam couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He was 33 and a librarian at a small branch library located in a medium-sized college town. Standing at five foot nine and weighing 150 lbs, with a thick head of short, dark brown hair, he was a pretty average guy, living the life he always thought he wanted. He had his own apartment with his very own girlfriend, who worked in the next town over, and who always told him she found him very attractive, with his oval face and clear, smooth skin. Even though he didn't hardly have any body hair at all (something he inherited from his mother's side of the family, he always thought) she always told him that she loved the sort of man he was, lean and muscular and always up for a hike or for fixing the roof for their landlord. "Maybe it's just the weather," he said to himself, looking up at the clear late summer sky as he waited for the bus from his apartment to his job at the library that morning. A old woman who was sitting on the bench next to him, gnarled with age and lesbianism, but who he had not seen sitting there before, overheard him chatting aloud to himself and interjected, "this town is always better before the students get back." She was right. The college town was now swollen with students, which started Sam. He'd enjoyed the sleepy summer at the library, serving the local readers and their children with the best summer reading he could recommend, and shelving all the books according to the card catalog system. Now that the students were back, rowdy groups of young scholars could be frequently found in the stacks, messing up his perfect order and demanding that he acquire more "PC" literature, like about feminism and animal rights, and asking the staff to implement scent-free policies and gender-free bathrooms. What would they think of next? Sam and the other librarians at his branch were able to fend off most of the attacks, but it distracted him a lot from doing his job and vexed him mightily. He nodded back at the old woman and said, "yeah, those students are something, right?" and scooted away from her on the bench, as she was sitting right next to him even though they had the whole bench to themselves, just the two of them. She opened a small tin of what looked like candies and looked up at the sky. "Just wait for autumn. They always settle down then. Must be something about the equinox." Right, the equinox was coming up, Sam realized. The days would be getting shorter and his heating bill would start going up. The woman seemed to inch closer to him on the bench, and Sam started to get worried that maybe she was going to ask him for money, or try to ask him about his personal life. He didn't like talking to strangers about his personal life, and he tried to avoid it whenever possible. The old woman pushed her hand towards him, with the little blue and white tin with a yellow lightning bolt logo on it, and offer it up to him. "Mint?" she said, in her crackly old lady voice, and then she turned her head to cough up a ball of phlegm, which she spit onto the sidewalk in front of them. Sam declined the mint. "You sure?" she moved the tin to right under his nose. She smelled like cigarette smoke and cats and wicker furniture. "They've got vitamins." Just to get her to take her hand away from his face as quickly as possible, Sam accepted the mint and even said "Thank you" even though he didn't want the mint in the first place. She smiled and closed the tin, plopping it into the pocket of her cardigan, which seemed to Sam to be heavier than was needed for this time of year, and uncomfortable in this weather. "You can thank me later, sweetheart." she told him, and then stood up and slowly made her way down the street. Why she wasn't even waiting for the bus, Sam thought, and I'm pretty sure that mints don't have vitamins. But just then the bus arrived and he put the weird old witch out of his mind during the 1 hour bus ride to work, and thought about the exciting day he was going to have ahead, putting books on shelves and doing all the other cool stuff librarians get to do. Unfortunately, his dreams were dashed as soon as he walked into the staff office and opened his email application to read his staff messages for the morning to find to which books he should put on which shelves. Instead of his usual book shelving orders, he found a message from the Chief Librarian for the city marked "Urgent" that had been sent to all the librarians at his branch. Unfortunately, due to budget cuts, the branch library that Sam worked at was in danger of being closed. Their branch was the least popular library in the city, according to the email, due to what the Chief Librarian considered to be "out of date materials and practices" such as not implementing mandatory safe space training, disabled-accessible cupcake vending machines, and gender-neutral carpeting. If the branch could not implement new policies to attract more patrons and increase circulation of the books, the city would be forced to close it and all the librarians would be killed and buried in the magnificent grave of the Chief Librarian upon his death. Sam was pretty sure that last part about being killed was just a weird joke, but he definitely didn't want to lose his favorite job and disappoint his perfectly nice, normal girlfriend. He scrolled down to the postscript of the message, which informed him that as of that morning, a new head librarian would be coming to take over the branch and attempt to turn it around so that it can be saved. Just then, a man that same did not recognize walked into the staff office. He was average height and very handsome. Even though he was very muscular and extremely masculine, he was smiling and seemed friendly to Sam. "Hi, I'm Hunter Mustang, are you Sam?" he said to Sam. Sam extended his hand to meet Hunter's and said "Yeah, that's me." Hunter's hand was smaller that he expected, but his grip was extremely strong, but also tender at the same time. Hunter looked Sam right in the eye while he shook his hand, the way a strong, confident man does, and it startled him a little. "Cool, I'm the new branch manager," Hunter said. "The temporary branch manager, you mean," Sam joked. "Not if I have anything to do with that," Hunter said, "I've been sent to eight failing libraries so far this year and I've managed to save every single one." "I hope you can," said Sam, " I really need this job." That morning at the staff meeting, Hunter laid out a 9-point plan to turn the library from "zero to hero" as he put it, and he made all the librarians promise that they would help him implement his plan to the best of their abilities. He said that they could count on him to save the library, but that he needed to be able to count on them to do everything he said. "Your job isn't just shelving books anymore," he told them all, and a collective silent gasp seemed to emerge from the mouths of the gathered librarians. "I need you to go above and beyond," he chided, "even if my practices seem unorthodox, I promise that they will work and you will all be able to go back to putting books on shelves oon." All of the librarians quickly agreed, as they had no other employable skills and desperately needed Hunter's plan to work. He handed out color-coded binders to each librarian, which included a series of instructions about tasks each would be expected to do that month. Sam was at the end of the line and Hunter was holding his binder, the last one, a lavender, 1-inch binder with a clear window pocket on the front that had Sam's name on it, but instead of Sam, Hunter had typed "Sammy" for some reason, probably because he was trying to show that he was a friendly, not-intimidating guy, even though he was extremely handsome and masculine. "Hey Sammy," Hunter said, "I have your binder here but actually, could you come back to the branch librarian office for a minute, I have some special instructions I'd like to give you. You don't mind if I call you Sammy, do you?" Sammy looked at the man who was going to save his job and shook his head no, even though Sammy seemed like the name for a child or a pet and made him feel weird. He told Hunter he'd be happy to come talk to him, of course, and the two walked together in silence down a long hallway to the magnificent and beautiful branch manager office. The walls were covered in beautiful carved oak panels, depicting librarians of the ages performing classical tasks. One of the rich, dark panels showed a librarian shelving books, and in another the librarian was fixing a stapler. In the panel right behind Hunter's desk, a librarian was holding her index fingers against the mouths two young patrons in a "shushing pose" like he had learned in school. Sammy had only been in the office once before, on his start date, with the now former branch manager. Sammy wondered to himself where the old branch manager was, hoping that he hadn't been beheaded and stored awaiting the death of the chief librarian. Sammy shuddered and put it out of his mind. Hunter leaned forward towards Sammy, like he was about to tell him something very important. He smiled again, and instinctively, Sammy smiled back at him. Hunter started talking. "I normally don't come out on the job, but I knew I could trust you with some sensitive information, Sammy. I'm a female-to-male transgender man, which means I was born female but I transitioned to male several years ago. I live my life totally as a man of course, including in my professional and my social lives." Sammy was shocked. He had never met a transgender before, and he definitely didn't expect them to look like this. He wasn't totally sure he had ever known that there were the man kind of transgenders, even. Hunter explained to Sammy that his plan to save the library involved inviting a number of his prominent friends, all transgender writers, to come to the library to host a transgender literary event. This event would be so popular with the local college students, that they would begin to patronize the library, increase circulation, and prove that this branch deserved to stay open to serve this population. "We need to increase circulation so that these librarians have something to do to justify their jobs as experts of putting books away on shelves," Hunter explained to Sammy, "and these patrons who will come to see the transgendered writers are all "punks" who love books but hate cleaning up after themselves, making them ideal for our exact problem. This was the most sensible thing Sammy had heard all day, and he told Hunter he was in. "Great, I am going to need your help especially, in order to put together my super special transgender writer event this weekend and bring the messy transgendered punks to the library." Sammy assured him he would do anything required to keep the branch open, and with that he got up and started out to perform the first tasks Hunter had asked of him in the lavender binder from earlier. Just as he got to the door, which was an oak panel showing a librarian not doing a patron's homework for them, but definitely helping them to find the information they needed to complete the assignment, he turned around to ask Hunter a question. "I want to help, Mr. Mustang," Sammy said with a smile, "but why me?" "Because you're gay, Sammy, and us queers gotta watch out for each other against the straight heterosexual normal people of the world. Now go get started so we can save the library and end patriarchal sexism and white supremacy, even though we are both white, in this town for good." Sammy went back to the staff office and thought to himself about how weird it was that Hunter thought he was a homosexual, since he definitely had a perfectly nice and normal girlfriend, who accepted his penis willingly into her precious vagina whenever he felt like putting it there, and who definitely did not mind him sometimes borrowing her panties or nightgowns when his boxers and pajamas were in the wash. He tried to put his concerns out of his mind and instead focused on saving his job so he could get back to his regular life of putting books away after Hunter had saved the library. His first task was to make posters advertising the transgendered literature event that weekend, and so he opened up Microsoft Publisher and started searching for transgender literature clip art on Google. What did it matter if Hunter thought he was homosexual? All Sammy needed was for his job to be ok. He worked all that week at doing whatever Hunter asked in preparation for the big event, and when Friday came, the whole library had been transformed into a place that any transgendered or gender-fluid patron would feel welcome. There were trans pride flags on each of the bookshelves and condoms and dental dams printed with the library information and hours on the package. The children's section had been renamed the "Adult Baby/Little Girl" section and the play house had been replaced by an assortment of of adult diapers, anal beads, and vibrating silicone rattles. A needle exchange machine had been installed in the all-gender bathrooms, and free HIV tests could be had on the mezzanine level. The entire business section had been replaced by 1000 copies of a novel called Nevada that Hunter insisted that Sammy read, but that he had not yet had time to start. It was Friday afternoon and Sammy was looking forward to a quiet weekend at home with his heterosexual girlfriend and he was in the staff office surfing the internet and planning a nice vacation with her for that winter, maybe a straight cruise or a trip to an island full of engaged and married people, really anywhere that wasn't like the politically correct hellscape that he now was forced to work at. Suddenly Hunter walked in and he wasn't smiling anymore. "Sammy I have some bad news." Sammy was worried that after all this he wouldn't even be able to keep his job, and he felt himself break out in a sweat. "Please explain," Sammy told Hunter. Hunter explained, "Unfortunately, the team that was supposed to come today to set up the stage for tomorrow was delayed in Moscow, Idaho, and the transgendered books event tomorrow will need to be canceled, which of course will certainly result in you and your librarian friends to lose your jobs." "Isn't there anything we can do?" Sammy pleaded with him, thinking only of the heterosexual vacation he desired to take with his normal girlfriend." Hunter didn't like seeing Sammy beg. "Well there's only one thing I can think of, but it would be against your union rules, so I don't think we should do it," Hunter said. "No," Sammy shook his head, "the union rules won't stop me. Tell me what we must do to save our branch." Hunter explained that if he and Sammy worked until the late night, they could build the stage themselves without the help of the crew and have it done for the event the next day. It would violate the union rule which indicated that librarians were only supposed to work during certain hours, and only in certain roles, and never to build stages for transgender literature events. "I will do it," Sammy said. "Ok, then we will save the library," Hunter said, "and I will keep my promise to you that I will save your branch." Hunter and Sammy got to work as soon as the library closed that night and they worked tirelessly until the very late night building the complex stage that the transgender writers required at each event they contracted to perform at. It was nearly 2am when they finished and Sammy was very happy with their work, but also realized that he had no way to get home. As if he could read Sammy's mind, Hunter patted Sammy on the back and said "if you need a place to stay, you could sleep in my guest room tonight, as I live just across the street and you have to be back here in the early morning to service the patrons at the transgender literature event." Sammy figured that was the best idea, so he agreed, and they both went back to Hunter's house. Hunter's guest room was a small room off his kitchen, which had been a pantry at one time, but which Hunter now kept full of boxes and a small twin-sized mattress on the floor. "Sorry about all the boxes," Hunter said, clearing a few off the bed and pulling a pillow out for Sammy to sleep on. Sammy thanked him for the bed and said good night. After Hunter left, he began to take off his clothes and he felt himself get aroused, but it felt really weird. It wasn't like a normal boner, which Sammy had all the time when he was about to insert his phallus into the vaginal flower of his heterosexual relationship partner, but it was more like a tingle, a warmth, in his whole downstairs area. He felt himself getting engorged, but his penis did not get hard, instead it seemed to feel like more of a whole body experience, with his nipples becoming sensitive and his skin moistening. He started to try to jerk off to fall asleep in the cramped pantry, but he found himself not yanking at his dick like he was used to in the shower, but instead rubbing himself almost like he had a clit. As his orgasm arrived, it wasn't an explosion but more like waves crashing against a craggy shore, and his leg jerked and knocked one of the boxes fell over and a whole bunch of little boxes fell out--small blue and white tins, adorned in little lighting bolt logos. He reached down once his climax was over and picked up a tin and opened it, they were the same mints for sure. He took one and put it in his mouth and fell fast asleep. * * * When Sammy woke up the next morning, before he even opened his eyes, he got excited. He knew this was the day he would finally save his job and his worries would be over once and for all. Hunter had been so helpful, Sammy surely would have to find some way to thank him when all of this was over. Standing up, Sammy suddenly realized that his body was different. His hips felt heavy, and when he looked down he noticed his chest wasn't flat like he always knew it to be, but instead he seemed to be growing small breasts. He touched one nipple and was startled to find out how sensitive it was. His dick seemed smaller, but also more sensitive, and when he touched it, his whole body shuddered. Something brushed against his neck and when he reached for it, he realized that it was hair, blond hair, that reached to his shoulders. "Breakfast is ready when you are!" he heard Hunter call from the kitchen, and he looked around for his clothes, but he couldn't find them. Instead, he grabbed a towel, put it around his budy under his armpits, and went out to ask Hunter what was going on. "Oh sorry Sammy," Hunter said, "I threw your clothes in the wash last night because I figured you would want something clean to wear today for the event. They should be ready soon, but there are some extra clothes in the bathroom if you wanna shower and put something on while you wait." Sammy decided he'd take a shower and then come eat some breakfast, but when he got to the bathroom, all he found for clothes were a pink tank top and some Lululemon yoga pants. "These must be left over girl clothes from before Hunter's sex change operation I guess," Sammy said to himself, and he decided that the most polite thing would be to take a shower and put them on without protesting, so that he wouldn't somehow offend his transgendered branch manager. At breakfast, Hunter didn't mention anything about Sammy's clothes or body or hair at all, and instead they just talked about the plan for the day and what to expect from all the famous transgendered writers who would be coming to the branch library. "I just want to do my best to make everyone feel welcome," Sammy told Hunter, and it made Hunter smile wide and assure Sammy that he was sure that everyone was going to be very happy once the event was over. Unfortunately, the washing machine broke down with the washing inside of it, half complete and totally covered in soap, so Sammy offered to just keep wearing the clothes he had on, so as not to make even more work for Hunter, who had done so much for him already. When they got to the library before the event, the transgender writers had just arrived and were unloading books and stage equipment into the event space. Hunter went up to one of the people, a man who Sammy had assumed wasn't event with the event because he was so very masculine and also taller than Hunter or Sammy, and gave him a big bear hug like they were old and dear friends. Hunter introduced Sammy to the man, who extended his hand. "Good to meet you Samantha," said the man, who had piercing blue eyes with a shock of gold in the iris, and looked right into her eyes, "thanks so much for having us here today. My name is Tucker Dauntless." About to correct him and explain that the name wasn't Samantha but Sammy and infact really just Sam, Samantha caught herself and realized such a thing would be very offensive to the transgenders, should one overhear her, and decided to let his handsome and masculine man with the blue-gold eyes just call her whatever he wanted to for the day. Samantha extended her hand to his and he took it and pulled her in to hug her and thank her again. "Hunter says you've gone above and beyond to welcome us here today." Her breasts pushed up against his flat muscular chest and it made her whole clit warm and wet and she felt light-headed. "You're, uh, uh, very welcome here," she stammered. A tall, beautiful blonde woman came up to them and Tucker introduced her as Zoey Creampuff. "I love your hair," Zoey said, kissing her on the cheek, giggling, and Samantha realized that her own newly blonde hair was exactly the color and length of Zoey's. What a strange coincidence! "So are you a writer, Samantha?" Tucker asked her, and she was about to tell him no, of course not, she just put books away on shelves, but then she remembered that she did have a few short stories from college she had written, and that she had always wished she had the time or whatever to write more. "I wish," Samantha said, a little embarrassed, "but I haven't really written since college. I'm not a real writer like you all." Just then a new person showed up, a punk queen medusa witch who introduced herself as Amber Kablamb. "Then you're a writer!" Amber hollered at her, and kissed Zoey right on the lips in front of her. Samatha was shocked to see two transgender writers kiss each other, she didn't know that transgender writers could be lesbians for one another, but also it was exciting to watch. "She's right," Tucker said, "sounds like you're a writer to me. Why don't you read with us at the event tonight? Even something short, it'll be fun." "Oh I couldn't do that, I've never read in front of an audience before, and I don't have anything to wear." "Don't be silly, you're reading and that's final," said Amber. "I'll help get you dressed," said Zoey, "come with me." Samantha gave in, not wanting to offend the transgender writers, and they went back to Zoey's dressing room, an RV fitted with every beautiful thing a woman could want, and hundreds, maybe thousands, of dresses and Zoey told her to take off all her clothes, and Zoey took off her clothes, too. Samantha couldn't stop looking at Zoey's beautiful, round tits that she was sure must be about a 32D cup size, and her petite yet tall and slender frame. Zoey put a hand on Samantha's small breast and tweaked her nipple, sending a shockwave down to Samantha's clit. "How long have you been on hormones?" Zoey asked, and then, not waiting for a reply, "These are coming in really great." Then Zoey helped Samantha pick out a sexy yet demure dress, befitting a librarian about to participate in her first reading, and helped her put on foundation, mascara, and eye shadow and rouge for the very first time. Samantha was overwhelmed but also excited, this was funny and she couldn't wait to tell her very normal and really wonderful heterosexual girlfriend about this funny wacky time she had at work this weekend. Then Zoey opened a drawer full of lipsticks, hundreds of tubes in lots and lots of colors. "What vibe are we going for tonight? Slutty or slutty-slutty-slut-slut?" Zoey asked. Samantha didn't answer, her mouth just hanging open in amazement at all the wondrous colors and brands. "Ok, slutty, slutty, slut-slut it is," Zoey said, answering her own question, and picking a deep red lipstick to apply to Samantha's eager but terrified mouth parts. * * * That night at the reading, Samantha got up on stage in front of the audience of rowdy transgender writer-punks and read her story to raucous applause. Amber gave her a big kiss afterwards and Hunter told her that he loved her magnificent prose and asked to read more. Zoey complimented her feminine poise and composure, too, which she tried not to read as an insult towards her writing and instead tried to enjoy as affirmation for her feminine appearance, which she was beginning to enjoy, however temporary this surely was. The audience was huge, much larger than even Hunter had hoped for, and the Chief Librarian had been very impressed by the turn out and agreed that the branch should remain open for the foreseeable future to serve the patrons who came to the event, and the rest of the community. Back in Zoey's dressing room RV, Samantha began to take off the pretty pink dress she had borrowed from Zoey when there was a knock at the door, and before she could holler "One second please!" who walked in but Tucker Dauntless, who hadn't read that night but instead seemed to be serving a sort of stage managerial presence of sorts. "I just wanted to tell you that you were great tonight," Tucker said, as she hurriedly tried to pull on her pink tank top and very expensive lululemon yoga pants. "You're too kind, I am really not a real writer like you all," Samantha said, "but maybe I can read with you some time in the future again, when I have a really good story ready." "You're good enough right now," Tucker assured her. "If our summer tour wasn't ending tonight, I'd beg you to come on the road with us." Samantha realized that he was right, tonight was the end of the summer, the equinox. Today's day was exactly as long as today's night. Balance was being restored. Things would be back to normal on Monday, Hunter would move on to the next library in trouble, and Samantha could go back to shelving books--and being called Sam. "It was great to get to meet you all anyway, and thank you for saving my library and my job," Samantha said genuinely. "Thing is," Tucker said, putting one hand on her shoulder and running his tongue along the inside of his lips, "I'd like to see more of you. I think you have a lot of potential... as a transgender writer... and I'd like to develop that if you're willing." "I don't see how that would be possible," Samantha told him coquettishly, "since you live in New York City and I'm just a librarian in this mid- sized college town." "Zoey Creampuff was a lifestyle blogger in Rockford, Illinois who didn't know the difference between that and which when I met her, and now she's a literary star with thousands of fans and her last book won a Lambast Literary Award and she got to wear a giant sissy gown that was so beautiful that it turned the red carpet pink. I think I know talent when I see it. If you are interested, meet me at Hunter's house in an hour to get on the tour bus with us. With that, he kissed her softly on the cheek, which made her feel warm and bright in a way she had never felt before, and left her in the RV alone to think. How could she leave her library, and her beloved mid-sized college town? And what of her normal heterosexual girlfriend and the vacation she had wanted to plan for them. She had to admit, it was fun parading around as a girl, in a pretty pink and frilly dress, and pretending to be a famous writer among the rest of these famous writers all night, but it was all for show, nothing about this was real. Or was it? She finished changing and was about to take off her make-up when she decided to go meet Tucker talk talk about his offer, just for fun, just for the story of it. She thought he would like the make-up, so she left it on. Back at Hunter's house, she found Tucker in the pantry room that she had slept in the previous night. He was packing and re-packing the boxes of mints and loading the boxes on to a dolly to move into the tour bus. "I'm glad you made the right decision," he told her with a half-smile. His blue eyes sparkled and a little part of her melted. Still, she mustered the courage to tell him the truth. "I haven't decided yet, I just wanted to talk to you about what you had in mind." Tucker put his arm around her and kissed her and her body went all but limp in his extremely masculine arms. One of his hands--smaller than average she had noted--skimmed down her tank top and down to her suddenly round but firm ass. "I should probably tell you that I'm a F2M transgendered individual too, just like Hunter," Tucker said, and Samantha gasped. She had no idea, as he was so masculine and also extremely manly, and despite being only perfectly average height, she felt as if he towered over her. He kissed her again. "What is there left to ask?" he queried unto her, while also kissing her. "I don't know...I'm not...I'm not even a..I don't know how to..." She was overwhelmed but also felt at home in his arms. She felt right and wrong at once, confused and totally sure at the same time. her heart pounded and her clit throbbed. She wanted him inside her--how?--it no longer mattered, all she knew was desire. "I don't know how to do it," she half-whispered, half-moaned, as he kissed her neck and massaged her body with his strong, masculine, believable hands. Tucker stopped kissing her for a moment looking at her round, soft, hairless face with his blue, lighting bolt eyes. He took a tin from one of the boxes and extracted a small mint, putting it in her waiting mouth. Then he put his hands on her shoulders, and pushed her to her knees. "You'll figure it out," he said.