Slipping Into A New Life. free porn video

Hi, my name is Edmond, or I should say it used to be, and this is my story. It all started a few years ago when I was rising through the ranks as a clothing designer in the Fruit of the Loom Company working in the men's briefs division. I was fairly successful, with a couple of my designs making it into that fall's lineup. The company, however, was in a bit of upheaval as staff changed in corporate due to a recent merger. There was a lot of disorganization and short-staffing. So when it came about that the lead woman for the new designs in the lingerie department in charge of slips, shape ware, and nightgowns left on sick leave, it was requested that I fill in due to things being slower in my division, and I had a want to tap into my education in textile designs for that division. Going in, I admit I had a slightly skewed view of what I was looking at with regards to my future clients. I had had rather limited interactions with women, and a majority of my interactions had been misunderstood. However, I was never one to turn down an opportunity that may lead to my advancement, so I accepted. I started getting ready for the transition by preparing myself with a crash course in women's lingerie products; mainly slips. To be honest, I knew kind of what they were and what they were for, but I was in the dark, for the most part, as far as style. The beginning was kind of rough, with a lot of reviewing, on my own time, of textbooks and notes from three years past of school. My new boss, Karen, who oversees the whole woman's division, sympathized with me and thought it would be good to get into the swing of things in my new role by going through old patterns and observing the models as they did some of the shoots for the next season. She figured this would be good for me to see how the garments needed to hang and flow on real-life people. The first few weeks I found myself down at the studio three to four times a week watching women walk and pose for the camera in various types of lingerie. Granted, I'm not complaining; I was always very picky with the women that I chose, there were a lot of models. How they felt so comfortable with me there I don't know, but I got the impression that they thought I swung the other way or was like the cameraman, who had been there for 30 years. I didn't think of myself as mean or misogynistic, no one ever really does; however, I have always been blunt and often critical. It happened that about the third week in I was down to the studio watching one of the models, Stacy, model one of the mid length 24- or 26- inch Vassarette full slips for the fall catalog. I watched as she struck poses again and again and observed the way the slip fell and moved. It didn't help that it was a snow-white and slightly transparent, but it also made obvious a little extra weight in her stomach area that, in my mind, did not flatter the garment and would not make a good picture. I did not think about her feelings, audience for the pictures, or that I was fixating on only one thing about her (in reality) beautiful body. This wouldn't have been an issue, however, as the day wrapped up and we all started heading out to our cars, and I ran into Stacy walking out. We fell in stride and began walking out towards the exit to our cars. She knew I was new and trying to adjust, and in small talk she asked me how I was adjusting to the job. I told her it was kind of a crash course, and definitely very different than the position that I had originally. She laughed lightly. "You'll get the hang of it soon," she promised. She asked me then what I thought of her photo shoot that day. Without thinking I said I didn't think it went well, that she was a little big in areas to model the slip they had her in, and I don't think the pictures would be what we were looking for. She stopped in her tracks looking hurt and angry. My brain did a double take realizing just how I sounded. I tried to stammer an apology, but she cut me off. "The first thing you think of is a negative about my body? Not every shoot is perfect, not every woman can fit perfect standards! Are you buying the slip or do you model the slip?!? I wish you designers had to fit in and wear for work what you design so you can understand what we go through! I mean, how do they expect a guy to design women's wear?! It's not like you're going to know if it has good support or is comfortable! Do you realize the slip is not even designed to be seen?" Stuttering an apology, I tried to make my exit as quick as I could. I could feel her staring daggers into my back as I rushed and got into my car. I knew she was venting, but maybe she was right, and I wasn't cut out for this job. She was right about me having difficulty telling if it had adequate support or was comfortable. Maybe I should have just refused the move and stuck with what I knew and was comfortable with. My mother always said I was rather blunt. She blamed my still single status for that, and I guess she was right. Dejected and slightly depressed, I drove home, had dinner, and watched a couple shows. I went to bed passing a fitful night in which I barely slept. When I did sleep I had dreams of cramping and pain. I chalked it up to something I ate. The next morning I woke, struggled to the bathroom, and went through my morning ritual. My work requires dress slacks with a dress shirt and tie most days except Friday. I put on a light cream shirt, blue tie, and gray slacks with black patent shoes, and a black belt. I drove to work fearing what Stacy might say to the other models and their reactions to me. I arrived at work rather early at about 7:30 and noticed that Stacy had not arrived. I was scheduled again to go down to the studio and watch. They were going to do another shoot on the slips and possibly start into some of the nightgowns. Later in the day I would actually sit down with some of the other design staff and start going through design ideas for next year. I headed for the side door and saw in my peripheral vision Stacy pull in. I made it to the door as she parked and pulled it open, trying to duck in before she saw me. That's when it happened. It was like I hit and invisible wall. All of a sudden, time slowed down. My body tingled, and for a moment the world went fuzzy. I somehow continued forward and the wall seemed to dissipate as the tingling in my body went deeper. The fuzziness intensified, and I couldn't see my hands in front of me for a second. Then as my vision cleared, I watched them become slender, the hair disappearing from the knuckles. The hair on the back of my hand thinned to blond wisps, wrinkles disappeared, smoothing my skin. My nails extended, and a coating of red nail polish appeared on them. My eyes followed the transformation up arms to my shoulders then to my torso. I felt it continue up my neck, my head, and down my body to race over my thighs, waist, hips, and legs, down to my feet. It was a slightly uncomfortable yet slightly pleasurable transformation as my body rearranged itself into a new form with ample feminine curves replacing masculine angles. I watched as, like bread rising, two mounds formed on my chest. It swelled out to what I would later find was a 34C cup. The most disconcerting part was when I realized I could no longer be referred to as a male. A tugging sensation in my crotch suddenly gave way to an empty feeling, which signified to my brain the withering of masculinity and blooming of my feminine flower. Looking down, I felt long hair brushing my shoulders and the nape of my neck as I inspected the changes that had happened to me. Then the second part of the transformation was almost as disconcerting as the first part. It started underneath with my boxer briefs. They became much tighter and felt softer against my altered groin, transforming into black lace, overlaid silk, French cut panties. Next, there was a kind of tightening around my torso. I'm not sure what did what, but upon later inspection a matching black bra to the panties were the result, pushing up and supporting my new breasts. I felt like I was being submerged in a bath of silk around my torso as, what I'm sure had been my T-shirt, transmuted to nylon, lengthening down over my thighs, while losing its sleeves to lace straps. I could feel a slight soft abrasiveness as the collar of the former shirt descended into a V of lace trim and darted nylon that cupped over my bra. I then saw the material of my button-down shirt change as the tie disappeared and the shirt transmuted to a red, silk top. Looking down further, I saw my slacks recede up my legs and merge into a single tube of a black pencil skirt that's hem stopped at my knees. As the slacks, now skirt, receded it displayed my socks in their now feminine form. Smooth, sheer pantyhose now encased my sleek feminine legs, and as I watched I felt the pantyhose slide into place under my skirt and slip. The last things to transform were my shoes. I staggered forward, barely keeping my balance as they shrank down and grew a heel forming into three inch, black, pointed-toe heels. Finally starting to move, I felt a disconcerting sensation arise in my new body as the silkiness of my new undergarments brushed against my upper body and stomach and nylon encased thighs and legs. It was at that point that Stacy pushed the door open behind me and smiled a greeting at me. "So, Elsa how was your evening? You run into any cute guys?" I blinked in shock but somehow maintained a dazed composure. Stacy continued on not noticing my dazed look. "Did you get a chance to think over some of my ideas for the new slip and nightgown line?" At this my shock must have been evident. We had not discussed this before, let alone her give me ideas. "Ah come on!" she said. "You said you were going to go over them last night, and you thought that some of them had a lot of potential. By the way, are you wearing that slip you had me look at yesterday? Like I said, the material is okay, however, it doesn't fit as well in the upper region as it should. I mean you're just as big as me in that department. What do you think? Is it keeping in place over your girls?" Still shell-shocked, I gave a quick yes and made the excuse that I needed to check something in my office, and quickly started walking away. However, she matched my stride and kept up on her long model legs just behind me. Getting to my office, I went in and sat down in my chair with her still following. "You know," she said. "If all your time wasn't taken up with the designs, and the pay wasn't as good, you could be a model with your figure just as easily as I am." Still in shock and stunned by this strange turn that made us seem like fast friends, I thanked her and muttered something about having to get a couple emails hacked out real quick before I went down to the studio. Understanding, she gave a slight wave saying, "I'll see you in a little while then," and made her exit. As the door shut, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and released a long string of expletives while staring down at my new body. She was right, I could take her place in a shoot if needed. Shifting in the chair, I felt the slip shift under my skirt and over my pantyhose reminding me of the shoot yesterday and what she had said about the purpose of a slip and her blanket wish for the designers. A small light bulb went off as I thought about that and tried to piece together what would've caused my transformation. Stacy's wish is what my mind kept coming back to. But how was it even possible? Still mulling it over, I opened up my computer and signed on to look at emails. This may be a fucked up situation, but apparently I still had the same position in this reality, and I didn't want my boss to think that I was having an identity crisis with a mental breakdown and get suspended, at least not yet. Opening my emails I found my new signature and identity. Apparently, I was the same age and had a similar history except, for now, my name was Elsa and I was female. I quickly logged on to my phone and checked my Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest. I discovered I was a bit of a girly- girl now. Most of the pictures of myself had me in dresses or skirts with excellent makeup. In my Pinterest I found folders dedicated to dresses, skirts, slips, and pantyhose. I breathed a sigh of relief after checking my relationship status. I was still single; for some reason I feared that I might be married in this new reality. Turning back to my computer, I finished up writing my emails and made my way down to the studio to watch the shoot. As I walked I became more comfortable with the sensations that women's clothes impart. However, the swing of my hips and the bounce of my breasts were a bit harder to adjust to. The first set of girls were ready and getting into place for their shots when I walked in. Stacy was one of them; she smiled and waved when she saw me. I noticed that she had on the same version of the slip she had been modeling yesterday, only it was four inches shorter. It looked a lot better to me today for some reason. Maybe it was her smile. I had to admit she had a beautiful one. After watching a little while and seeing how the slips moved, I went over to my boss to get her thoughts. She greeted me as if nothing had changed, which I guess I expected. She leaned over and asked, "What do you think of the shoots so far?" I told her that they had went well over all, in my opinion, and this set was looking promising. Then she caught me off guard and asked if I was wearing the slip I said I was going to yesterday? Shock took me again. How many people did I talk to about my wardrobe in this reality? I thought. I quickly recovered, replying that yes I was. "Well?" she asked. "What does your body say? Is it as comfortable and does it fit properly?" Reeling for an answer I went with what Stacy had said that morning, that the material was good, but I didn't really like the way the bodice fit over my bra. Nodding, my boss signified her agreement. "That's why I like that you take our work so seriously and want try them out yourself before letting me send them on to our panel and quality control. I guess we'll need to sit down and make a few adjustments before we look at sending that one on." This comment just cemented my fears that my change was due to Stacy's wish yesterday. Still in a slight state of shock at what my new, more intimate part in the design meant, I excused myself back to my office to go over some of the new patterns I was working on. Back in my office, I started going through the papers on my desk and found a sheet of paper with Stacy's suggestions for modifications to a few of the patterns I was working on. I tucked it into my briefcase to go over later that evening in case it came up when we talked, given the closeness of our new relationship. I then checked over my emails again, wrote a few replies, and clocked out. Heading for the exit, Stacy met up with me again. I could hear the click of a second set of heels aside from mine, and I turned and waited, seeing her striding quickly after me. "Hey, Elsa, tomorrow did you want to try on that one nightgown that we were discussing the other day?" I gave her a slightly blank look. "Remember you were thinking of using some parts of the bodice in the new line?" "Oh, yeah sure," I said. "It kind of slipped my mind." I was only slightly shocked by this request given the other events of the day. I ask her how she thought the photo shoot went that day. "I think it went a lot better," she said. "I'm not as crampy today so I feel a lot better and more natural." I was dumbstruck thinking about the implications for me. I would be having a monthly period! I would have PMS! I would have to use a tampon! "You know, us girls, we've got to watch out for each other. Guys just don't understand," Stacy continued, interrupting my sudden realization. You can say that again, I thought as she moved past me towards the door, pushing it open and holding it. I told her to go ahead as I paused to readjust my strap on my computer case. I then followed. As I pushed the door open, that same tingling sensation and fuzziness from that morning hit me again. I felt it wash over my body, and everything that happened that morning reversed. I felt it as my body first, then my clothes, reverted back to their male form. The silkiness and open sensation of the pantyhose, slip, and skirt were being replaced by the feel of slacks and men's business wear. My male angles reasserted themselves as my breasts melted away. I looked down as the door closed behind me. I was completely male again. I looked back at the door before walking towards my car. I looked over at Stacy as I arrived at my car and she climbed in hers. She didn't even notice me now. I guess that's more definitive proof that I switched realities. Climbing into my car, I reflected on the whole situation. A large part of me hoped that this was a one-time thing and I would stay male tomorrow. I like having my parts that I was familiar with, after all. However, a small part liked the closeness of my friendship with Stacy and the other girls and knowing firsthand the benefits and downfalls of my clothing designs. After that day's strange events at work, I stayed in and busied myself with a few work things for the next day. I was surprised that the recommendations Stacy had given me were still in my briefcase; it was the only physical reminder that the transformation had happened that day. After going through them a few times, I relaxed watching an old movie while getting dinner. I slept a little bit better than the night before but still fitfully. The next morning I went through my normal routine. I decided on a pair of microfiber khakis, a white button-down shirt, a brown tie, and brown shoes. I drove into work, and this time Stacy beat me there. I saw her walking towards the door. She looked back and seemed to give a half- hearted attempt at holding the door as I began the walk from the car. I arrived at the door and hesitated, unsure what to expect, but bracing myself either way. I was hit by the same sensation of the tingling and the fuzzy vision as I passed over the threshold. I felt everything shift and change again. My pectorals swelled quickly into the two generous 34C breasts. My male angles receded and feminine curves accentuated themselves. My hair fell over my shoulders, and this time I noticed the feeling of makeup as it appeared on my face. A set of earrings and a necklace enhanced my look further and indicated the start of my clothes shifting to their feminine form. Again, it started with my boxer briefs. They shrank into a set of silky white panties with a hint of lace over the crotch. Next, I felt part of my T-shirt tighten into a bra with lace sides and smooth microfiber cups that matched the panties. I felt the slip as it formed around my torso and over my blossomed bosom. A lace bodice with thin spaghetti straps formed and I felt the silken folds cascade down, sending their lower lace hem dancing just above my knees. This time the slip felt like it had more lace than yesterday. Tilting my head down, I watched my button-down shirt transform. Its sleeves shrank as the buttons disappeared, and the sides merged together as the collar plunged slightly, forming a white, dressy tank top. My top remained tucked into my khakis as the changes began to affect them. The khakis, instead of shrinking like yesterday, began to lengthen as they melded together, and the material changed color and texture to a silky, pastel, pink-purple with a flowered pattern. I continued to feel the hem of the slip gently brush and dance against my legs just above my knees as the skirt began to caress it. This feeling changes as, once again, pantyhose raced up my legs. This time they were tan control tops that encased my legs and slid up over my hips and waist. White sandals with a slight heel formed below my feet, replacing my brown loafers. I felt my hair change position as it formed into a neat French braid that did itself up over my head. It was kind of nice to have it out of the way. Looking up, I saw Stacy a little further down the hallway. She had looked back, and seeing me, she was smiling and waiting for me. "So, do anything exciting last night?" she asked. "Did you see that new episode of the bachelorette? That one dress she had on; I don't know how she pulled it off, but wow! I don't think you or I could have done it." I nodded in absent agreement. "So," she said, moving on, "What's on your docket today?" My boss and I had talked briefly about plans and figured that I should be dropping into the studio again for a little bit, but she also wanted me to focus mainly on design plans for today and for the next couple weeks. "Well," I said, "it sounds like I'm going to be quarantined to my office for a while." She sighed. "Well, I guess a girl can't get everything she wants, I was looking forward to you being there to get more feedback at the shoot. By the way, what slip are you wearing today?" she asked. I paused, not really sure which one I was wearing. I could feel the lace brushing my thighs, and it was definitely more than an inch, but I couldn't tell exactly which one. "It's one of my Vaux ones," I said quickly, remembering the designs I was looking at last night. "Well," she said. "I went with the Isabella." She lifted her skirt ever so slightly to show the white lace and a bit of the material of her slip beneath. "You know, this is one of my favorites," she said. "I love the lace detailing in the top and hem. Plus, I think it makes my butt look good." She giggled as she smacked her butt. I have to admit, I had to agree there. I mocked a wolf whistle and she laughed and patted me on the shoulder. "Well," she said, "do you want to go try on that nightgown now, or do you want to do it a little later?" "I should really go to my office and get through some emails and talk to Karen on some designs. I did look at some of your suggestions last night though," I said. "You did!" she said excitedly as she pulled me into a hug. As our breasts pushed together a sensation awoke in me, warm and soothing. That's when I realized how physically attracted to her I was. In surprise, I quickly released her. "We'll talk more later at the studio!" I said as I headed for my office. The morning went pretty well. Karen liked the ideas for the beginning of the designs, and a little after lunch I headed to the studio. I saw a few of the girls getting ready for the long camisole nightgown shots. I quickly asked where Stacy was, and they pointed back towards the dressing room. I thanked them and headed back. Stacy was in the midst of changing from one nightgown to another. She was clad only in her bra and panties. I halted abruptly as I came in. "Oh hey," she said looking up at me. All I could do was stare; she was gorgeous! I don't know how a few days ago I could've thought she was pudgy. "What?" she asked, noticing my obvious pause. "A little body envy, or cat got your tongue? Don't worry, I think yours is just as nice." "Sorry," I said. "If you want I'll come back when you're finished." "No, it's fine," she said. "Well," she paused, reaching over to the dressing table and pulling a blue silky garment from it. "Take off those street clothes and try this on," she said as she tossed the article. I looked at it. It was an older style nightgown (obviously the one she had told me about). Hesitantly, I pulled my shirt over my head and started to turn my skirt around to get to the zipper. "Here," she said. "Let me help you with that," as she grabbed the zipper on the back of my skirt, gently pulling it down. The skirt fluttered to the floor revealing my slip underneath. She looked at me with an exacting stare. "Yes, definitely a body that could model," she said, giving me a playful swipe on the shoulders. I pulled up the slip, grabbing the hem, and pulled it over my head, still wondering at the silky caress of it as it brushed over my nylons and soft female skin as it came off. "There you go," she said. "Oh, I like that bra and panty set. I have one similar but in red. Here," she said handing me the nightgown again from where I had set it on the chair. I delicately bunched the material up and put it over my head, inserting my hands through the spaghetti straps and letting it flow down over my body. It was extremely soft, maybe even softer than my slip. It came down to my ankles with delicate lace on the bodice and hem. It was sky blue with a silky luster. "What was the material again?" I asked. "I believe it was a poly-spandex and nylon blend," she said, reaching out to rub a fold on the skirt of the nightgown between her fingers. I swished back and forth and did a half-twirl, feeling the way the soft material caressed my curves and flowed over my nylon clad legs. For a nightgown without cups, it actually had fairly good coverage over my breasts. I liked it. "Well?" Stacy asked. "What do you think?" "I like it," I replied. "Who designed it?" I asked. "It was one of Helen's. She worked here before you, she went on leave and it had a few kinks so it never made it to the production line. You would know better than I what she said regarding revision plans. She gave me this one to try on and give her a gauge for how it felt. Before she left she told me to keep it and let her predecessor work with it; that she had other fish to fry now." "I see, well I might have to borrow it sometime. I really do like the design," I said. "I will see her later this week and let her know and double check," Stacy said smiling. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind helping out a girlfriend of mine." "Sounds good," I said. "I need to be getting back over to the office, I have to check in with Karen soon." I reach down and gathered the hem and pulled the nightgown up and tried to pull it over my head. The back shoulder straps tangled slightly with my bra and I had trouble extracting it. Stacy embraced me and reached around behind to untangle it. The nightgown came away, and I again felt the feeling I felt this morning as our breasts pressed together, this time only clad in our panties and bras. We were left looking into each other's eyes. There was a pregnant pause and Stacy softly asked, "May I?" I had an idea what she was asking as I nodded yes, but it still surprised me as she gently pressed her lips against mine. As I felt her soft, moist lips press against mine, I tasted cherry. Stacy was kissing me! I closed my eyes and gave in, kissing her back. I slightly opened my mouth, flicking my tongue out to play with hers. She reciprocated and we continued for a little bit before we suddenly remembered where we were and pulled away. "Well," I said awkwardly. "That is some good cherry lip gloss! The lips attached to it aren't that bad either. I should be getting back before I'm missed." She smiled deviously, licking her lips. Hurriedly, I pulled up my slip and slid my shirt over my head adjusting it into place over my breasts and bra. I then slid my skirt back on. Stacy reached behind me and gently zipped it up for me while lightly patting my butt as she did so. "Thanks," I said, reciprocating the gesture before pulling up my skirt to adjust and straighten my slip. We headed for the door and stopped before opening it. "Elsa," Stacy said. "You won't mention this, will you? Some of the girls we work with might not understand. Don't get me wrong, whenever I see you at work I wish you were my girlfriend, but I'm not sure how it would be accepted." A slight shudder passed through me like I had felt when she wished for me to know what it felt like to wear what I made. "Don't worry, it's safe with me," I answered. "Good," she said before leaning in and kissing me again. We broke the kiss and I smiled and ducked out the door. Later that day, I was looking through my purse and found a picture and note from Stacy; the note was apparently a few months old by the crease lines and had evidence of being read and re-read. The note said: "Dear Elsa, I'm so glad that you could confide in me, at the time I was a bit shocked, but not for the reason you think. You see I like you and am attracted to women and men. I didn't know how to tell you that then, or that I am attracted to you. Your eyes, the way you smile, the way you talk (you're always too witty), even the way you dress. You know how to put yourself together. The way you listen to my ideas and seek out my input makes me feel special. I could go on but really that's best left for in person in the late hours of the night, that is, if you would say yes to becoming my girlfriend. I know it's a big step. It would be best to keep it quiet for a while, I think, so we can feel things out. Find me after work and we will go from there. With Love, Stacy" Once more in shock, I sat back hard in my chair. So, it appeared that now Stacy and I are and had been girlfriends for more than a little bit. Thinking back, I remembered her wish just after the kiss. What was causing this? How did she have this power over me? I was distracted from the thought when Stacy knocked on my door. "You ready to go, hon?" she asked. "Give me a second, Stac," I said. She looked down the hall before walking over and saw the note in my hand. "Ah," She said. "Reminiscing are we?" as she gently massaged my shoulders before leaning down and giving me a light kiss. "Now hurry up so there can be more of that. Remember you're coming over to my place tonight." "Okay, okay," I said, feeling my body responding to her. I packed up my stuff quickly and we headed for the door. Walking down the hall she asked what I felt like for dinner as she pushed open the door. "Maybe Chinese," I said, stepping through. The tingly feeling and fuzzy vision happened, and everything changed again. Coming out of my daze I heard Stacy say, "You know, Chinese doesn't sound that bad tonight. I might do that myself. You're not so bad after you get over how blunt you can be sometimes. See you tomorrow." I could have wept. I trudged to my car and watched as Stacy drove away. Now that feeling I had this time yesterday was definitely leaning on the opposite end. Maybe it was hormones, but I would go to the ends of the earth to stay with her. The problem was that Stacy seemed to have fallen for the woman me, and she was the only one who seemed to have the power to change me, and she didn't even realize it. The next couple days I was subjected to office work and didn't see Stacy much except for in passing. Each day going in, my clothes transformed along with my body to their female equivalent, either skirt or dress with the accompanying pantyhose. On Friday I began to get curious on what would happen if I wore an outfit other than business clothes. It being casual Friday I decided to wear a nice T-shirt and my nicer jeans. I also packed a backpack with a set of khakis and a dress shirt in case something I wore ended up being too revealing. As I walked through the door I felt my body transform, my angles disappearing and feminine curves coming back out and my breasts swelling. Then I watched as my clothes transformed from jeans material to a silky floral print. The garment then ascended up my legs forming into a tight little skirt that came down four inches above my knees with a cute one- inch lace trim at the hem. Beneath it I could feel the normal slide of panties and slip, only this time I realized it was a micro half-slip. My T-shirt, I realized, was now a black lacy halter top. At that point, Stacy walked in and she let out a low wolf whistle. She walked up to me and whispered in my ear, "Girl, you make me feel like a woman." Yeah, I thought to myself, I definitely do. "I really like that skirt," she said. "Although, its kind of daring wearing it into work, I would say, but knowing Karen she'll like it." "Yeah," I said. "It definitely is a cute outfit." "So," she asks, "You have any plans for the weekend yet? I know we talked a little but hadn't nailed anything down yet. One of the other girls mentioned a thing tonight if you want to go out. They are heading to this new place over off Fourth and Main. They have pretty good drinks and it's kind of low-key." I told her I would like to, and I would let her know later that day. With that, I headed to my office. Designs were progressing fairly well; I had one of the full slips designed and was partway through the half- slips. The designs were set to go out to the seamstress that day so that next week sometime we could get an idea of how it looked. I was kind of excited; this would be my first set of women's lingerie. I had not only designed it, but I was able to input my knowledge as a woman and be able to wear it too. At the end of the day as I left, I so wished the curse or blessing or whatever it was would extend for just one more day and I would not be reverted back. Stacy caught up to me as I was about to leave so she asked, "Did you decide? You didn't text me about it. I was kind of looking forward to it as we haven't spent much time together yet as a couple, even if it is private." Without thinking I said, "Yes, I would love to and I wish we could too." That's when we waked through the door. I felt the familiar tingle of changing, but also the one that I associated with Stacy making a wish, and everything went fuzzy. When it stopped, Stacy was in front of me and my mind was in a mental fog. "Hun, are you ok?" she asked. "I think so," I said looking down. I realized I was still dressed as a woman, however, I felt different. I felt parts of me that were definitely male, but I also felt feminine still. I could feel my old friend securely between my legs, but also a bra cradling my chest. "What happened to me? Why I am dressed like this?" I asked, still in a bit of a fog. "Hun, you're gender fluid, you dress like this about half your time. I don't understand it, but you do make an attractive woman, and man. It's one of the things I love about you. You are both for me. You happen to be female today, Elsa, and if we don't hurry our pretty little butts up, we're going to be late. The rest of the girls will be waiting at the club for us." Realization swept over me. My wish had been granted, I was with Stacy outside of work, and not only that, but now I had both worlds. I looked around for my car but didn't see it. "Uhh, Stacy where is my car?" I asked. "You silly, did you hit your head or something coming out?" she asked, giving it a kiss and turning my face to look at her. "We haven't driven separate since we moved in together five months ago."