Magic Blanket

My third story posted here, but actually the first one I started preparing to post. It's actually one of my older stories. But... it wasn't properly finished (which is my biggest writing problem), and needed editing to fix typos, grammar, and inconsistencies. Not to mention it's 3 times as long as the first two put together, so there was more of all that. Read on to find out what that magic blanket does.

Chapter 1: Boom

Friday, December 7, 2007, 11 PM

Boom! I awoke to the sound, and to complete darkness.

I knew that sound. That was the sound of a power transformer up on a pole somewhere nearby exploding. I’d heard a similar sound before, several years ago when I still lived with my Dad, also with a power outage.

This was my first power outage alone. I’d only lived in this house, by myself, since October. An aunt on my Mom’s side had died, with no other relatives, and as a result, I’d inherited her house. It was only a couple blocks from where I was going to college, so I could walk there, instead of having to ride the bus when Dad’s work schedule didn’t allow him to drop me off and pick me up from there on his way to and from work, or when he just forgot. If we’d been in contact with her and knew she lived so close, I might have already moved in with her for convenience, since she had plenty of space. Once I had it, there was no doubt I should live here.

Dad never really liked me, though he didn’t abuse me or intentionally neglect me, as far as I could tell. I just wasn’t the manly man he wanted in a son, so he just did the minimum required to be a decent parent. I tried to be what he wanted. I tried to work out, but it just didn’t seem like I had the body for it. I was able to develop my upper body, but that’s it. Anything below my pecs just didn’t develop no matter how hard I tried. I tried out for baseball. I thought maybe what I had would make me a good hitter. But it turns out a good swing comes from the whole body; there’s actually a lot that comes from the legs in turning your body during a swing. I tried basketball, and I could shoot the long ball. They tried to make me a shooting guard, which would mean I’d often get passed the ball when open to immediately take a shot. But it’s not like they just leave you open. You have to work at that. And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t move well enough to get open often, and I wasn’t tall enough nor could I jump high enough to shoot over most opponents. I was no good as a shooting guard in a realistic game scenario. I was only good if the other team was asleep on defense and left me open, and they had other guys who could do that and play better when actually challenged. The best I got out of my body was a glamour shot of me from the mid-torso up, standing with arms akimbo, shirtless and with my chest oiled up, showing the best parts of me while hiding my shame. I gave Dad a framed 8x10 of that as a birthday gift and he still has it hanging on his wall.

I focused on my schoolwork, and did decently well at that. It was clear Dad wanted me out of the house, though; heck that was clear my senior year of high school. My scholarship and financial aid only went so far. I had tuition covered, and books and fees, and enough to pay for rent or meals, but not both. He wasn’t going to abandon me, but he didn’t have the money to spend several hundred dollars a month in rent for me to get an apartment.

The house was a wondrous windfall. She had owned it outright, so I only had to pay the taxes on it once a year, about equal to one month’s rent at an apartment. Well, that and bills, but I’d budgeted for those; they were some of the same bills I would have had to pay in an apartment. I’d minimized them by shutting down the second floor. It got enough heat from one central radiator to keep things from freezing up, and the rest of the floor’s radiators were turned off, all the lights, everything. I lived entirely on the first floor, with its living room, kitchen, bathroom, and one bedroom, like it was an apartment.

My aunt had a bunch of clothes. I mean a bunch. There were 4 bedrooms in this house with a generous supply of closets and dressers, all stuffed full of her clothes. I’d had no choice but to hold a yard sale my second weekend in the house, just to clear out some of the stuff. I’d tried to sell everything from the bedroom on the first floor so I could use it. What was left I crammed into another bedroom upstairs. And I didn’t even start on the other three rooms full of clothes. I might try to sell them later, and I’d heard about a consignment shop in town where I could drop off nicer things and they’d try to sell them and give me half the selling price when they did. But it was way across town, and I’d need to get a car or a ride to haul the clothes over there. Dad might help, since it meant money. I’d do it eventually, but I also had to first sort them out from the numerous common articles of clothing which would only be suitable to sell at a yard sale for 1 to 3 bucks each. Anyway, the thousand dollars I got during the yard sale let me pay the taxes which were due last month, with enough money left over to buy a few other things the place needed, and I’m now living here only for the cost of utilities for a year.

The immediate problem was that this was a cold December night in New Hampshire. This house had oil heat, but the control system was electrical. Without electricity, or so I was told, the system wouldn’t work. And it seemed so; I did not hear the sound I associated with the radiators being active. So if the power stayed off long, it was going to get cold. While I’d already closed things down for winter, tonight I’d learn just how well insulated the house really was.

After two hours, it was noticeably cooler. Not so cold that I was going to try to find shelter where there was heat, now, in the middle of the night, but definitely cooler than I’d normally ever let it get. I was, however, inspired enough to get out every sort of blanket I could find to cover up better. It might still be hours more before the power came back.

I already had the comforter on my bed that I normally used during the winter. I put on a second layer of thermal underwear, what Dad called long johns, but nobody from my generation ever seemed to use the term. I also grabbed a second blanket. And while I was doing that, I noticed the gray blanket that had come with the house, which I’d never used. I had at least brought it down into the bedroom I was using, figuring it might be useful, along with a couple coats she’d had that didn’t look too girly, when I was moving the stuff that didn’t sell into upstairs bedrooms. I laid both blankets out flat over the comforter, pulled one edge back, and crawled into bed under them, pulling them completely up over my head.

And now there was only one more problem. My boobs were getting squashed in the position I was scrunched up in. And that was a big problem, because I was a guy; I didn’t have boobs!

There wasn’t any light, but I ran my hand across my chest. Definitely boobs. I felt myself down below. I could tell it wasn’t right even before I worked my way through three layers of fly (the two thermals and my briefs), but once I did, I confirmed I no longer had a penis. I had a pussy instead. Something was very wrong.

I got up, and felt my way carefully through the house to where I had placed my one flashlight. Turned it on, shined it at myself. No boobs. Erection clearly visible in my pants. Hey, I was a teenage boy and I’d just been feeling up boobs and a pussy a couple minutes ago; of course I was aroused. I was confused now, but went back under the covers, taking the flashlight with me but turning it off as I got into bed.

Uncomfortable boobs again. This time without getting out of bed, remaining under my various blankets, I grabbed the flashlight and turned it on. Boobs. There were definitely boobs pushing out the front of my two thermal shirts. I pulled the shirts up to reveal them. Definitely, 100% boobs, and pretty big ones. I pushed all the pants down, though I had to set the flashlight down and use both hands, as the position I was in did not make this easy. Grabbed the flashlight again and aimed. Definitely, 100% pussy.

I didn’t know what I was going to do about this, but I didn’t know what I could do. For the time being, I was going to try to sleep. That position didn’t work though. In fact, the only position in which I could get comfortable was lying on my back. Eventually I fell asleep that way.

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Sometime while I slept the power came back on, and the heat was running. I was actually getting hot in the two layers of thermals and three blankets, but I stayed in bed awhile thinking about the thing that had happened overnight. I didn’t know what time it was, but I did know it was Saturday and I didn’t have to hurry anywhere. As I lay there on my back, I could feel the weight of the boobs on my chest rising and falling with my breath. When I looked down, I could clearly see them making a tent under the various covers. And reaching down below, I could still feel that I had a pussy.

There were stories of people suddenly changing in various ways, including changing from guy to girl, but I never knew anybody it happened to and I hadn’t personally believed them. I guess it was possible after all. So I was a girl now. I didn’t know how I was going to manage in college. There must be something they could do to change my records and say I was a girl. I couldn’t afford a new wardrobe, but maybe I could wear Aunt Sally’s clothes. There were still plenty of them left upstairs. I’d figure something out.

I finally made the big decision to pull back the covers which were definitely too hot to have over me in so many layers now. All at once I pulled back the three blankets and sheet that covered me and looked down at myself, braced for the sight of what I’d already figured out was there. And... Guy. 100% guy. No boobs, erection in pants. What the hell?

I covered back up again, and I was a girl. I uncovered, and I was a guy. Well, that was pretty weird. But if I only had to sleep as a girl, nobody else needed to know, and I could mostly ignore it. I got up and started to go about my day, 100% as a guy.

I still kept it somewhat cool in the house, as my budget to pay for oil heat was limited. 68 degrees on the thermostat, and I wore one layer of thermals all the time. After breakfast, I followed my routine which meant today was laundry day. Fortunately, the house had a washer and dryer in the basement. This was the only reason I ever went down into the basement, as it was cooler than the ground floor by a significant amount. As far as I could tell, there was no explicit heating downstairs; it was only because the furnace and the piping to connect to the radiators was here that it got any heat at all, but that was enough to keep it from getting too cold. I gathered my clothes of the last week, separated them into two loads of light and dark clothes as I’d been taught, took both loads down, dumped the dark load in the washer, added detergent and started it running.

I went back upstairs until I heard the washer stop, then came down to switch the clothes over. As I was reaching down into the washer to retrieve the last socks hiding under the agitator, I felt a strange feeling. My boobs were getting squashed against the edge of the machine. I retrieved the sock, put it in the dryer, and took a step away from the machines and looked down at myself. No boobs. What the hell was going on?

Clearly I needed to figure this out, because I couldn’t be going around the world suddenly turning into a girl in places. I moved back up against the washer, the way I had been, and had boobs again. One step back, no boobs. I repeated these motions several times, including doing it with my head down looking at myself as I approached the washer. Just as I got to the place where my legs were flush up against the edge of the metal box, boobs suddenly sprouted on my chest, and just as I stepped away, they vanished back into the flat chest that I should have.

It was chilly down here, and I had already spent longer down here than I normally would have, but I had to get a closer look. So I took off the thermal shirt and repeated the experiment several more times. Boobs definitely just sprouted from my chest when I moved to that spot. I watched it happen enough times to catch the details. Two big half-globes pushed straight out from my chest, but there was more. The dark patches around my nipples, which were normally the size of nickels, expanded to the size of of a milk bottle cap, and the nipples themselves, normally smaller than a pencil eraser, grew to be as big as the end of my pinkie finger to the base of the nail. But they were the same parts, expanding as my chest grew outward.

Those weren’t the only changes, though. My chest was normally pretty hairless, but there was some hair in the middle, between the nipples, and more down on my stomach near my navel. All of that hair disappeared, and my whole stomach shrank. My arms grew thinner too, and the hair on them disappeared.

Might as well go all the way. I stripped out of my thermal pants and briefs so I was standing there naked. If I walked forward into the washer the way I had been, it would hide what I wanted to see, but I found I could approach it backward with the same effect. I guess I knew what had to happen, but it was another thing to see it. I had a pretty good erection at this point, while I was a guy. When I turned into a girl, the changes happened very quickly. My penis went flat against my body and my balls and scrotum quickly disappeared into my body. It turned into a pussy, and in this area, the hair that was there stayed, but moved to the sides to make way for the new parts. And it was hard to see much more detail than that; I didn’t have a mirror here, my boobs grew out and tended to get in the way, and if I leaned over too far to look around them I reverted to being a guy.

I was determined to learn more, but for now, I put my clothes back on, finished moving the laundry, started the machines, and went back upstairs to get out of this cold basement.

This whole thing started after I got out the blankets last night. Could Aunt Sally’s gray blanket have something to do with it?

I’d thrown all the blankets on the floor to get the sheets off to wash them, so now I folded up the spare blanket I normally didn’t use and put it away. Then I put just the gray blanket on the otherwise bare mattress. When I climbed on top of it, nothing happened. When I crawled under it, I became a girl.

Wait. Under. The machines were under the part of this room where I’d tossed the blankets. The area where the bed was here was over an open patch of floor in front of the machines. With the blanket laid out flat, I went back down to the basement and found I had a much larger area in which I would become a girl now.

This would make my experimentation easier. Actually, there was another thing that would help. I remembered Aunt Sally had a hand mirror among the collection of things that did not sell at the yard sale. I went into the cold upstairs, found it, and returned to the basement with it. This definitely made it a lot easier to see the changes happening. After the penis went flush against my body, it moved down slightly, a big crease appeared along its length, and it split into the two “lips” that formed the sides of the pussy. The head of the penis shrank and was hidden under the top end of these lips, and the vagina opened up at the bottom. When I shined a flashlight on it, I could even spot the urinary opening moving down into the middle of the whole area.

There was a smarter way to do this, I realized. A bedroom upstairs was directly over mine, so I took the blanket up there and stretched it out over the unused bed there, which was mostly over a patch of floor in my room. This worked; now I could change into a girl in the relative warmth of my own room, instead of in the cold basement where being naked for 5 minutes had me shivering badly.

I knew I would experiment with this more, but I had already confirmed the most important part: The change was triggered by being under the blanket, and as long as the blanket stayed in my house, it wasn’t going to happen out in the world where other people would see me change. Assuming there wasn’t some other thing out there which also would make me change.

It didn’t take me long to start on it. Once the laundry was done and put away (with me turning into a girl several times as I walked through the space under where the blanket was upstairs), I had to play around some more.

I ventured upstairs again and got some of Aunt Sally’s clothes. The clothes included things of every type, even bras and panties. I didn’t think I could sell those; would somebody really buy an old woman’s used underwear? There were actually more of those because I’d moved the ones from downstairs up there. I wasn’t sure how my size compared to hers, but I could try, anyway, and collected several types of garments.

Back in my room, I stripped naked and stood in the patch where I was a girl. I’d never put on girl clothes before, but they weren’t too hard. Underwear, naturally, has to go on first, so I stepped into the panties the way I’d wear my briefs and they fit this body much better than my briefs did. Smooth all around. Next up was the bra. This was more difficult, but I was limber enough to reach behind my back and after some difficulty I got the hooks fastened. There were actually three sets of loops to fasten the hooks into, and the bra was pretty tight and I could only reach the last set, but I got it on. The two shoulder straps had fallen down my arms while I was doing this, and I couldn’t get them to go up. They weren’t long enough. I saw there was an adjustment thing, similar to the one to adjust the length of the strap on my book bag, and with some difficulty I pulled it out to the longest length, which let me pull the straps up.

The bra still seemed too small, in two ways. First, the strap around my back and around the bottom under my boobs was really tight, making impressions in my chest. Second, my boobs were clearly too big for the bra cups. I was no expert on bra sizes. All I knew there was a number that represented the length of the strap all the way around me, and a letter for the size of the cup. But I had to guess this bra was too small by one in both sizes, maybe even two.

But it was what I had. I had also gotten a dress, which was the kind with a zipper in back. I wasn’t sure whether to put it on over my head or step into it like pants, but when I tried putting it on over my head, even with the zipper all the way open it got hung up too much on my boobs, so I stepped into it instead. There wasn’t any problem at the bottom, but it was clearly too small up top. I was able to reach behind me and pull up the zipper, but it only went to a couple inches below the bra strap and no further. The dress just wasn’t big enough to go around my large boobs.

I got similar results with a blouse. It buttoned up, mostly, but I couldn’t get the top button fastened and it left a pretty indecent amount of my boobs on display. But a skirt I’d grabbed was a good fit if I fastened it in the narrow bit, above what I’d thought of as my waist as a boy, close to my bellybutton. A pair of shorts I picked out also worked. Since this body had wider hips and a narrower and higher waist compared to what I was used to, it fit better than comparable clothes of my own.

But the problem was really up top. I took off all those clothes and returned them upstairs, and then stayed out of the girl zone and put on my own clothes.

This got me thinking. I’d had a girlfriend a while in high school, Jeannie. My entire intimate experience with the female body came from my time with her, until last night, that is. My dad was glad I had a girlfriend, and uncharacteristically opened up his pocketbook to pay for my dates during my senior year. I think he hoped we’d run off and get married right out of high school, but Jeannie got accepted into a college far from here. While I was able to get some scholarship money, those funds and my grades only allowed me to go to the local college. And we decided a long-distance romance was not going to work, so we split up.

One of the things I’d learned from Jeannie was that girls could keep going. When a guy masturbated or had sex, once he had his orgasm, his “come” came, and it was over for him, for at least a little while. Girls didn’t have to stop; they could have orgasm after orgasm if they had a willing partner or a good hand. I had to know what those female orgasms felt like.

After lunch, I decided to set up this experiment in my bathroom. The other bathroom upstairs was directly over it and set up in the same way. Also, fortunately, it was clean; I’d cleaned everything up there in the first month after I’d got here, before the weather turned too cold, and nobody used it so it stayed pretty much clean. There was a little dust that I easily wiped away in the area I was going to use. I spread the blanket out as much as I could, over the back of the toilet and covering the entire closed toilet seat and some of the floor in front of it. Then I came down to my bathroom, stripped, and sat on my toilet. As a girl.

My first instinct was to pee. And I did. As a girl. I forgot that I was a girl for a moment, until I felt the pee come out and splash on my new girl parts. I stopped, because I wanted to see this. I saw the pee opening migrate during one of my experiments, but I wanted to see it in action, and that was a bit hard just bending over on the toilet. Fortunately, I had the mirror handy; I had not returned it upstairs along with the clothes.

I sat again, and, using one hand to hold myself open and the other to hold the mirror where I could clearly see what was going on, I peed. I guess it didn’t really look like anything special. There was a tiny hole there between my new “lips” that the pee came out of. When I held myself open that way, I managed to almost completely avoid getting it on myself, too.

With the peeing done, I got going on the masturbating. I knew from my experience with Jeannie about what to do, if I wasn’t penetrating myself with something. Should I do that? I decided that could wait.

It worked. I felt the excitement building up, initially in much the same way as when I masturbated as a boy. But whoa! Instead of it being over, by continuing the motion I brought myself to another more intense orgasm. And another, and another. Pretty soon, I knew I was feeling something way more intense than I’d ever had as a boy. And this was only rubbing on the outside of me. I’m not sure how long I kept it up, but I did until it was affecting my whole body and I was getting short of breath.

I didn’t know whether it was always going to be that intense, but this was crazy. If it was always even close to this good, I was going to want to masturbate as a girl every day, maybe multiple times a day. I also found that I had worked myself into a sweaty mess, and changing back into a guy didn’t change that, so I took a shower immediately afterward.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

I left the blanket there through the night, but I was convinced in the morning I needed to move it. The problem was ... well, there were several problems that compounded themselves.

First, having it there meant I always had to use the toilet as a girl.
Girls were messier. I couldn’t pee as a girl without having to wipe up afterward, and I couldn’t pee standing; I had to pull down my pants and sit.
Once I was sitting on the toilet as a girl, I was always tempted to masturbate.
And once I got started, I couldn’t stop until I was a sloppy mess 15 minutes later.

Once in a while was fine, but I ended up doing it again last night before dinner and a second time later in the evening. I resisted doing it another time right after dinner, and also right before bed when I was too tired to do it anyway.

In the morning, I peed as a girl and almost got started masturbating again, when I realized this needed to stop. I put on enough clothes to brave the cold of the second floor, and moved the blanket so it was over the bathtub but not over or in front of the toilet. I came back downstairs, and then I took a shower (even though I had had a mid-evening one after my last masturbation session). This one was different, as it was my first shower as a girl. Showering as a girl was a bit different; my skin seemed more sensitive, and it seemed like I needed to heat the water up more than I was used to to make it comfortable. And I still couldn’t resist masturbating. Once the water had warmed up the base of the tub, I ended up sitting down at the far end of the tub, with the water hitting my pussy, and I didn’t even need to use my hand. And while I still masturbated myself nearly to exhaustion, I was already taking the shower I needed to clean up afterwards, and I could limit myself to once a day this way - I hoped. I didn’t do it again the rest of the day, anyway.

This became my regular routine. I got up 15 minutes earlier each day than I did before, showered and masturbated as a girl, dried myself off, and got dressed as a guy, ate breakfast as a guy, went to class if it was a school day (though there was a long stretch of winter break just after this started), and did all the other things I would normally do as a guy. Nobody else knew or needed to know that I was a girl sometimes.

There were still a few weird moments. For one thing, when I saw a hot girl, or even a picture of a hot girl, while my male body responded as it always did, in my head, instead of thinking, “I want her,” I was actually thinking, “I’ve been her.”

Chapter 2: The Party

Friday, January 12, 2008

To my surprise, I got invited to a porn party. At first there were just a bunch of us standing around talking, with some drinks and snacks. Well that, or looking at the stuff in the gift bag each person was handed when they entered. Two guys got dragged in late; I don’t know if they were no-shows or replacements for no-shows, but at that point the announcements started.

“Hi, I’m Cathy, and I’m like to welcome you all to the hookup party!”

She cheered and somebody somewhere was banging a cowbell and they managed to get most of the guests to cheer as well. I joined in.

“There are 23 freshman and sophomore men and 23 freshman and sophomore women here tonight, and what you all have in common is that you don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend and you are at least interested in finding someone of the opposite sex. I can’t guarantee you’ll find the right person here tonight but I encourage you to give it a try.”

She stood up on a chair or something so we could see what she was talking about in the next bit.

“If you see any of us with these HP buttons, we’re the organizers of this event and we are here to try to make sure you have a good time. Don’t ask us out; we’re taken. We all found somebody at one of these parties in the past who we are still dating, so we know it at least sometimes works. Now there are some rules we have to follow, I’m sorry, there do have to be rules. Chris is here to tell you those rules.”

“First off, most or all of the guests here tonight are under 21 so there is no alcohol being served. If you brought any alcohol with you, try not to make it obvious that you are drinking it here.”

Several people laughed.

“Second, rape is bad, and roofies are bad! If you have them, please don’t use them. If any of you don’t know, I’m talking about the date-rape drug rohypnol. It’s a little pill that bad dates will dissolve in your drink and it makes you very suggestible and possibly forget what happened while you were under its effects. So please don’t. If you want to have sex with your partner, just ask them, and if they don’t want to, let that be the answer. And on that subject, you are not allowed to have sex here. If you want to do it, go find a private space. Apparently many years ago one of these events turned into an orgy and the school made us adopt this rule in order to have the event at all. There’s one more sex rule: Practice safe sex. You all have condoms in your gift bags so there is no excuse for not using them.”

Cathy continued the announcements. “There’s a card in the bag with an email address on it. If this works out for you and you want to pay it forward by helping run one of these events in the future, or even if you just want to thank us, that’s how you can contact us. That’s all. Enjoy the party.”

And at that point the several large-screen TVs in the room started playing porn.

I was, like every guy there, walking around with an erection, while unlike those guys, I knew deep down what the girls were feeling too. But while the porn gave me an erection, in my head, I was thinking, “I know what she’s feeling right now” about most of the girls in the videos. That wasn’t strictly true; my vagina had not been penetrated, neither by dildo nor by penis. I certainly wasn’t ready for a penis - I was still very much attracted to girls, even during the times that I was one - and I wasn’t even sure I was ready for a dildo. Speaking of which, during this party was the first time I’d ever seen one of the little egg vibrators. Well, the first time I recognized it for what it was. I actually owned one of these; it was among Aunt Sally’s things, in its original box (though opened and perhaps well-used), labeled as simply a massager. Uh huh. Now I knew what it was meant to massage, and if I did decide I wanted to try one, I didn’t have to try to figure out where to buy one or get embarrassed doing so.

I had to admit, the concept behind the party was pretty slick, especially how they matched up the same number of guys and girls. The continuously running porn naturally got one pair to want to just go off somewhere and fuck, and once they left, this inspired other couples to do the same. A mere hour into the supposedly 3-hour party, there were only four guys and four girls left, and I realized I’d better pick one. There was a girl who I’d barely noticed earlier who had seemed to be hiding out near the edge of the room, and I gravitated to her as the others paired up as well.

“Hi, I’m Tom Rogers.” At least, right now I was Tom, I thought, but I wasn’t going to make this girl run away in terror by telling her about when I was Thomasina.

“Cindy. Nice to meet you.”

We chatted a bit longer, and at 9:15 we were the last ones to leave the party which supposedly ran from 8 to 11 PM, initially not heading anywhere in particular.

Somehow our conversation hit a lull. After walking a short while in silence, Cindy asked, “Do you really want to do that? Have sex, I mean?”

“Well, we don’t have to. But we can. I mean, they gave us the condoms and everything.”

“Well, I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid it’s going to hurt.”

I knew what she was talking about. Her “cherry.” Hymen, it was technically called. She had never had sex. I hadn’t checked to see if my female body had it, but I remembered breaking Jeannie’s. She’d said the pain was incredibly small, and it was over very fast.

“Your cherry? I had to break that for my first girlfriend back in high school. It’s over fast and she said she barely felt it.”

With this reassurance, Cindy invited me to follow her to her dorm room, but there was a sock or something tied around the doorknob, apparently a signal.

“My roommate’s here. Can we go to your place?”

“Sure. I live alone, so we won’t have this problem, but it is in a house a couple blocks off campus. If you’re up for the walk, we can go.”

She nodded, and followed as I led the way. Fortunately, though it was typically cold for January, it wasn’t snowing and the wind wasn’t strong.

She had thought I meant a single room in a frat house, or a single apartment, until we got there and she realized we were really alone.

“How come you have a whole house to yourself?”

“I inherited it. My aunt died a few months ago, she never had any kids, her husband had already passed, and her sister, my mother, died when I was a baby. I was her only living relative.”

“Oh, that’s sad. Do you have much family on your father’s side?”

“I know he’s got a brother, but Dad was never on good terms with him, so I never saw him. Dad’s all the family I know, and while we didn’t hate each other, I think he was trying to get me out of the house.”

“Oh, that’s sad. Have you been back since you moved out of the house?”

“I was there for the day on Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“Well that’s good.”

An awkward silence ensued. So I broke it.

“I know you’ve never had sex, but did you ever, you know, get all touchy-feely with a boy?”

“A little. But not much. I was afraid to go too far that way, because that leads to sex.”

“And you were afraid of sex because you thought it would hurt.”

“Yes. You understand.”

“Well...”

Rather than repeat myself, I sat really close next to her on the couch, and grasped her hand.

She looked at me, and after a bit we kissed. And we gradually moved to touching more and more, until we were taking each others’ clothes off, and, with both of us naked, I led her to my bed. And when we got there, she was all tense.

“Relax, relax,” I told her in as soothing a voice as I could manage.

Here is where my experience as a girl helped. I stroked her very gently at first, to let her get used to it, starting out on her thigh and working my way towards her clit and then gradually building up the intensity. I was able to get her body excited, even bring her to orgasm, before I even attempted to penetrate her. After that, I inserted my finger into her, then two fingers, and pushed against the hymen.

“Are you ready?” I asked as I put a condom over my erection.

“Ready,” she replied. “Go for it!”

I pushed my penis against her hymen. One hard thrust, and I was through.

And we had sex for a good while. Once I came, I used my hand to keep her in orgasms, nowhere near the intensity or speed that I had done on my own girl body, but enough to keep her aroused.

And it worked. By the end of the night, it was clear I had cured Cindy of her fear of sex. She was suggesting new positions and taking the lead.

There was just one thing. When she finally decided she had enough and was ready to leave, she wanted to take a shower first.

“Hey, uh, wait here a second,” I asked, and hurried off. I wasn’t ready to find out what would happen if she stepped under the blanket. Nothing? She would become male? Stay female and get bigger breasts? Whatever might happen, I wasn’t ready for our new relationship to get weird already. I ran upstairs and removed the blanket from its position over the upstairs tub, folded it up, and also grabbed a couple of the spare towels from the closet in that bathroom, which I stacked on top of it, to use as an excuse. I went back down, and handed her the top towel off the stack.

“Oh, thank you,” she said before disappearing into the bathroom. She had gathered her clothes while she waited for me, so she dressed and was fully ready to leave when she came out. I put on my clothes from earlier in the night while she was in there.

“I think I can get home from here on my own, but walk me back to the edge of campus?”

“Sure thing, Cindy.”

It was only a couple blocks, but I helped her get her bearings and back into familiar territory. I gave her a goodbye kiss and let her continue on her own.

Chapter 3: The Aftermath

Saturday, January 13, 2008, early morning

It was past midnight by the time I got back home.

While I took my own shower, as a guy for the first time in more than a month, I thought, If I am going to have a relationship with Cindy - which it wasn’t clear yet was really going to happen, but seemed like a good chance - should I keep using the blanket? Should I tell Cindy about the blanket? I don’t even know what would happen if she went under it.

I needed to think about it. Since we’d messed the sheets all up, I stripped those off, put on a fresh set, and rather than my comforter, slept under the blanket that night. And not masturbating, just thinking, as I dozed off to sleep in my bed, as a girl.

When I awoke, after relaxing in bed a while longer, I came to a conclusion. The only person I could possibly talk to about this blanket who might know anything was Dad. I could also ask Jeannie for advice, and if she wasn’t upset I had bigger tits than her now, and wasn’t too freaked out about the whole situation, she might tell me something useful. But the first thing I needed to do was call Cindy, and make sure that if she had any thoughts about last night being more than a one-night stand, that I didn’t mess it up by not talking.

Once I had eaten breakfast, and got my guy body dressed, at about 9:30 I called her. She was happy, and glad to continue things with me, and we agreed to do something next Friday night.

With that done, I called Dad.

“Hi, Dad. I have some things to talk about.”

“Did you find a girl?”

“Well yes, actually. That is one of the things. I met a girl, and we enjoyed ourselves last night, and we’re going to go on a proper date next Friday.”

This led to Dad giving me various kinds of advice for how to proceed with her for half an hour. Finally, when it seemed he was out of breath, I asked my next question.

“Do you know of anything weird about Aunt Sally?”

“Weird? Maybe, something. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I found what I can only describe as a magical artifact here among her things.”

“Ah, yes. If you’re finding magical stuff, then I should tell you everything I know. You see, Aunt Sally was a bit of a lie.”

“How so?”

“Aunt Sally was not your aunt at all. She was your mother.”

“Whaaaaaat!? Well, what I saw here was pretty weird, so I’ll buy it. Tell me the story.”

“When I met her, Sally was using a magical device to make her body sexier, including giving herself bigger breasts, and she was using the name Frieda, yes, Mom’s name. We dated and eventually got married and we had one child, you, and all this time she never told me that the body I knew wasn’t her real body.”

“How did you find out?”

“The thing she used had to go inside her body to work. Normally she kept it in her vagina, but she removed it and moved it to her ass before times when we were going to have sex. One night I caught her doing this, and saw her real body.”

“What happened?”

“She was so embarrassed, she ran off. I assume she had the house you inherited all along, and that was where she went, but I didn’t know about that at the time either. She came back the next day to collect some of her things from my house, just stuff she could carry in two suitcases. And while she was here that time, she told me you were born a girl, and she had cast a spell on you to make you a boy because she knew how much I wanted a son. She also cast a spell on me just then; it prevented me from revealing her secrets to anybody who didn’t already know something about her magic secrets, including you. The house itself, apparently, was not one of those secrets; after we found out about it, I still found myself unable to tell you there might be magic inside. I couldn’t even warn you if I thought it might be dangerous. You had to find out on your own.”

“So the blanket was one of her secrets?”

“Yes, apparently. I wouldn’t have been able to tell you this story otherwise. What did this magic blanket do?”

“Turned me into a girl, but only while I was under it.”

“Hmm. I don’t do magic myself, so I was never able to confirm it directly, but Sally said you would have been a girl if not for the spell she cast on you. So it may be that rather than a magic sex-changing blanket, what you have is some kind of magic-nulling blanket. When you’re under it, the spell she cast on you stops working, and you look like your real self - what you would look like without the spell, anyway.”

“Maybe, Dad. Maybe so. Maybe that’s also why I never turned out to be the manly man you wanted. When the blanket makes me a girl, I don’t change size significantly. My waist shrinks and my breasts grow, and my parts below the waist change, but I’m still the same height. I haven’t weighed myself but I’m guessing I’m close to the same weight. If what I’m wearing over my chest is big enough for my boobs, then my clothes still fit, mostly, though not well.”

I made a mental note to weigh myself.

“Well, enjoy it, I guess. Enjoy your real body. I’m not mad at you for what you are, even if you really are a girl. It wasn’t your fault. I’m kind of upset at your Mom, actually, because that stipulation in the curse prevented me from talking about it all these years. So sometimes all I could do was just not talk to you. I’m sorry if that came across badly.”

“Oh, wow! Then I guess I’m sorry for thinking you didn’t like me. Nobody could’ve guessed that, though.”

“Oh, yeah, no hard feelings from me, either. But you should look around the house for more magical objects. I’m sure she had more.”

“Dad, the yard sale! I sold a bunch of Sally’s stuff!”

“Don’t worry. Some of Sally’s magical friends contacted me shortly after she left. In fact, one of them came delivering the papers she filed for divorce. I was able to keep you after that divorce because she ran out on me and abandoned you. They knew more than anybody about the extent of Sally’s magic, but were also under the same restrictions not to blab about it, so I could not use them as an intermediary to tell you.”

“She covered all the holes, I guess.”

“Yeah. But about the yard sale: I called those friends and had them go buy up any magical items you had for sale. I could talk with them about it, of course, though I had not really wanted to most of these years. The customers who spent the most time there were those friends, and at least one of them was there from even before your official start time until after you were done putting stuff out, so I am sure they got every magical thing out of what you sold, unless you sold more stuff another time without telling me.”

“No, no more. Not yet. I was going to take some of her fancier clothes to a consignment shop, but I didn’t do that yet.”

“Now that you know, I should call those women and have them search the rest of Aunt Sally’s things for you. One of them should be able to explain the blanket for you, and they should be able to find the rest of the magical stuff in the house.”

“There’s one more thing. Remember, I met a girl.”

“Did you have sex yet?”

I’m sure Dad knew that the possible reactions were “Dad!” and “Actually, we did.” And so...

“Actually, we did. I had been invited to a party. An upperclassman asked if I had a girlfriend, and when I told him no, he invited me to a party and said that would be a good way to find one. I thought that was just advice, but it turned out to be a kind of hook-up party. Older boys who found girlfriends at such a party in the past and their girlfriends arranged it. Some of the boys and girls there paired up and left pretty quickly. I... was a little slower figuring it out, but ended up pairing up with one of the last girls there, Cindy, who I discovered was afraid to have sex because she thought popping her cherry would hurt.”

“And you coaxed her through it, I suppose.”

“That, and I showed her how good sex could feel. Because when the blanket made me a girl...”

“You masturbated as a girl.”

“Yeah. You guessed.”

“Yeah, well, I never had the slightest desire to be a girl, but stories of guys changing into girls have been around since before I was born. I always thought that if it happened to me, the first thing I would do is try to find out if it was reversible. The second thing I would do is masturbate to learn how sex felt to a girl.”

“Pretty much exactly what I did. Anyway, once I got her over her fears, she was kind of a sex maniac.”

“Treat her well, and you’ll reap the benefits. Right now she thinks of you as the person who changed sex from something to be afraid of into something to enjoy. As long as you don’t hurt her, she will utterly devote herself to you.”

“I hid the blanket from her. But if it turns out that it makes an anti-magic field, and the girl I’ve turned into is the real me, I want to share that with her.”

“Go ahead and do that. She won’t care, because you’re being honest with her. She may ask you never to do it during your dates, or she may actually like trying it with another girl, but she won’t hate you for being open with her. But maybe wait until Sally’s friends confirm what the blanket does.”

Chapter 4: Finding Sally’s Secrets

Saturday, January 13, 2008, afternoon

By the time the long call with Dad was over, it was lunchtime, and before I finished lunch, Dad called back to let me know he had arranged to have three witches come today to check my house for magic. They really did call themselves witches. It was something to do with the kind of magic they did.

While I was waiting, I remembered that I wanted to weigh myself. Sally had a scale, and by moving it around to locations under and not under the blanket, I could weigh my male and female bodies. And they weighed the same, 152 pounds naked.

They arrived that same day around 2. Sandra, Clara, and Jen, they introduced themselves, and I explained what I had experienced.

First off, they investigated the blanket. They put a couple objects on a table and observed them with and without the blanket above them. They cast a spell that made Jen have glowing green hair, and the other two passed the blanket over her head and her hair turned to normal, and back to glowing green afterward. This part of their investigation only took a few minutes.

“Yes, this is definitely a magic-nulling blanket,” Sandra told me, while Clara did something which ended the green-hair spell.

Next, the three of them held hands in a small circle around me, Sandra and Jen chanting a spell while bowing their heads, while Clara looked at me, moving her head about, apparently directing the spell. Various lights flashed around me, and after a few minutes they stopped and broke the circle. Then the two chanters held the blanket over me while Clara did ... I guess tried to do some other magic on me.

When she stopped, Clara explained, “The female form you have experienced is your natural form, and what a well-endowed body it is!”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“It’s probably OK if Cindy walks under the blanket, unless she’s under some kind of magic as well, which would be a heck of a coincidence unless Sally set it up somehow.”

“I didn’t meet Cindy until months after Sally died. She’s really dead, isn’t she?”

“You saw the same body we did at the funeral, but we did not magically confirm it was hers. There are ways to fake a corpse, but we haven’t seen anything to the contrary. Also, we confirmed you had rightful ownership of the things we bought at your yard sale, so either you rightfully inherited them or she donated them to you in some official way. That’s hard to do without your knowledge, but not impossible. Unless we find some other evidence, we are assuming she’s really dead.”

“OK.”

“The blanket doesn’t appear to have any other enchantments on it; in fact, as a magic-nulling blanket, it is probably quite difficult to do anything else to it magically.”

“So what about the spell on me?”

“Sally’s spell is intact, and it is the only reason you are male. It could be dangerous for us to remove it. It is complicated magic, and if we goof, the spell could turn you into something else and become impossible to remove.”

“I am actually fine with the spell as it is. While I have enjoyed seeing my girl side now and then, I’m not ready to go living as a girl full time.”

That was the end of that conversation, and they next brought before me all the magic items they had bought from me, and offered to sell any of them back to me for what they had paid for it, as long as I only bought back things I would personally use. Buying it back just to sell it to somebody else at the going rate was forbidden.

“You remember how much you paid for each one?”

Clara produced a receipt. Yes, I remember that she had made me write out a receipt. At the time I thought it was just to keep track of their lengthy list of purchases.

“The receipt was important because it helped us ensure your sale conveyed rightful ownership of these things to me,” she explained. “It was how we determined you properly owned each one. It’s a magic thing; the formality of a sale is important.”

Then they split up and checked the rest of the house. When they discovered the cold second floor, they got together and then with my permission they cast a spell to insulate the house. With that done, I could leave the heat on in the second floor; once it was heated up, it would lose heat exceptionally slowly, and I’d use a lot less heating fuel oil. The same spell would keep the heat out in the summer, so air conditioning would cost less and rarely be needed at all.

They went back to searching the house. Meanwhile, I looked over the items they had brought back, each of which they had labeled with a small card explaining the magic within it. There were a couple magic dresses, but not the kind that I could wear to turn me into a woman. One of them was bulletproof, and the other was anti-magic in a different way; it didn’t stop the magic that was already in you, but stopped you from being affected by new magic. There was a hat that let you think more clearly and improved your focus to cast magic, and a necklace that was some kind of magic battery that helped you store up the energy you needed to cast magic spells. Since I didn’t do magic, and at the moment didn’t have any practical way to go anywhere wearing a dress, none of these items were really useful to me and I was going to decline their buyback offer on all of them. As far as what they found in the house, though...

It took only 10 minutes upstairs for them to find the first item, a magic girdle. I was only vaguely aware of what a girdle was, but the women explained that a normal girdle was a tight-fitting garment which made a woman’s waist and/or hips look smaller by physically compressing them. They were surprised Sally owned one, since it was decades out of fashion by the time I was born. This garment used magic to change a woman’s shape, so it was far more comfortable, or so they told me, and the magic also allowed it to expand or contract to fit just about any woman. But again it was something I couldn’t personally use.

They found a couple more magic batteries, and a device which magically protected a conversation from eavesdropping (which I kept), but they were not finding nearly the amount of stuff they thought they should. But after two hours of searching they figured out it was because they were looking in the wrong place. They discovered a magically concealed panel which hid a secret elevator!

I should explain the layout of the house. The entrance is in the middle of the long side of the house. About 2/3 of the front (extending to the right end, when you face the front door from outside), and a little over half the depth of the house is occupied by the living room on the first floor. The stairs are located along the back wall of this living room, enclosed with a door at the bottom which I have been keeping shut to lock out the cold from upstairs. At the right of the stairs is the entrance to the kitchen, and at the left the entrance to the bathroom. Just right of the bathroom is a door to another staircase down to the basement.

Left of the bathroom, aligned with the left edge of the living room, is a narrow hallway which leads to the back door. In that hallway is the entrance to the bedroom I use, which runs along the entire left side of the house. A column containing the flue from the furnace is inside the bedroom, along that wall between the bedroom and living room, halfway back. In the bedroom, closets two feet deep run along that wall from the column to the front of the house.

The second floor has a matching bedroom and bathroom, a closet over the space where the back door is, and a bedroom on the right above the kitchen and part of the living room, a little narrower than the bedroom on the left but largely similar. The remaining space in the front is a small bedroom, and a hallway around the staircase connects all the rooms. One more staircase directly above the others provides access to the attic, which I had looked at exactly once, finding it empty. No piles of old treasures like the stories told.

The witches discovered that the end wall of my closet facing the flue conceals a secret door. Opening it revealed the world’s smallest elevator, about 18 inches deep and two feet wide, clearly meant for only one person to use at a time. You could use this to reach the second floor bedroom (where the access is through the matching closet), the basement (where it exits from one side of the column containing the flue), and the subbasement I didn’t know about, which has no other means of access. The subbasement was clearly Sally’s magical workshop, full of magical items.

They found the device Sally had used to become my mother. Its actual magical function was to make you look more attractive. It was a slightly irregular cylinder about an inch in diameter and 4 inches long, a bit rounded at each end. Since I really felt I needed to see how it would work on me, and since I did not have access to my vagina except under a magic-nulling blanket which would have also nulled this device’s effect, I inserted it into my ass. They warned me it might not work at all in combination with the spell making me male, but it did. It made me look like the man my father had wanted as a son. Even if I didn’t use it much, this was a thing I had to keep. But for now, I removed it, and washed it thoroughly before putting it away.

They found a handful of “ignore me” devices. Carry one of these, and nobody would notice you unless they had psychic powers or you were specifically trying to get their attention. Those seemed genuinely useful, and while I only needed one, having the rest meant I could give them out to other people I cared for.

They found magic focus items, which help people who can use magic cast stronger spells than they otherwise might. They found magic batteries. They found components for magic rituals. They found spellbooks. There was a whole lot of stuff that could help people who could cast magic. As far as I knew, though, I couldn’t. Because they were finding so much magical stuff, I asked them if they could test me for magic ability and Clara said she could. She took me down into the underground lair, and had me try a bunch of different things before ultimately concluding I had no magical ability whatsoever.

What they didn’t find were any other nulling devices that might work in a way to allow me to carry one with me if I wanted to go around as a girl. And I am not even sure why I worried about that, because I didn’t really want to be a girl. Being one in private was plenty. I guess I asked because of the number of things they found that I couldn’t use because I wasn’t a girl except under the blanket.

When they were finished, the witches told me that the magic stuff they collected that I couldn’t use was easily worth thirty to fifty thousand dollars in total, and for that price I could buy a small magic-null device I could carry in a purse which would allow me to live life as a girl if I wanted, and have enough money left over to buy a full wardrobe of reasonably nice girl clothes and all the other things I’d need to live that way. I still wasn’t planning to do so, but I agreed to let them sell the magical goods through a sort of magical consignment shop, and they also helped me get the remaining non-magical but very nice clothes of Sally’s to a regular consignment shop to sell. They said this was the best way to get the most money for the items, though they warned me that it might take a while to sell; I wasn’t going to get thousands of dollars overnight. I figured that if they managed to sell half the stuff over the course of a year, that was a good income for a poor college kid who only had to pay property taxes and utilities for housing.

By the time the three women finished loading up their vehicles with all the stuff they were going to sell for me, and left me alone, it was well past dinner time. I cooked up something quickly and ate it, and then set up the magic blanket over the upstairs tub again, before I took a much needed shower. Durign my shower as a girl, I made my decision in this area: As Dad has suggested, I was going to tell Cindy about it. I would tell her everything, but specifically that my experience as a girl in recent months was what allowed me to give her better sex than I would have otherwise.

After my shower, it was 9 PM and I thought it was not too late to try calling Cindy, so I did. She had suggested getting together Friday, but it was up to me to plan something. Since I wanted to be here, I just said it would be dinner at my house - just pizza, nothing fancy - and whatever came after.

Chapter 5: Telling Cindy

Friday, January 19, 2008

Next Friday arrived before I knew it, and after my last class I had to get set up: Order pizza 40 minutes before Cindy was expected to be here so it’d be sure to arrive before she did, but not too long before. Get dressed up in the nicest clothes I owned - no suit, but something nice. It was probably too nice for pizza, but I didn’t care.

Cindy arrived at 6, and I had plates, napkins, and the closed pizza box on the table. After I welcomed her in and we had a brief kiss, we sat down to eat.

Between slices, I mentioned, “Cindy, I learned some things about myself and my family since we were together last Friday, and I need to share some of it with you.”

“Oh, God, do you have an STD?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just that some of the things I told you aren’t true, but I didn’t know it then.”

“Oh. OK, well go ahead.”

“One of the things that came with my aunt’s house is a magic blanket.”

“What’s it do? You go riding on it, like a flying carpet?”

“No. It turns out that it’s actually an anti-magic blanket.”

“It defends you against magic? Do you worry about wizards zapping you in your sleep?”

“It’s not quite like that, but I suppose it help if wizards zapping me was a concern. What it actually does is it turns off magic in the space under the blanket.”

Cindy still looked confused, so finally I spilled it for her.

“There is a curse on me, one that I didn’t know about until recently, which turns me into a man. Without it, I’d be every bit as much a girl as you. When I am under the blanket, the curse is disabled and I am a girl.”

“Wow! Weird. How’d you get such a curse without knowing it?”

“My mother was a witch, and put it on me in the womb because of how much my dad wanted a son.”

“Aww. Kind of sweet, but cruel to you. You planning on lifting the curse and becoming a girl full-time?”

“No. Actually, some witches examined my curse and said it might be dangerous to try to remove it. If I was going to live as a girl full-time, I’d only practically be able do it by carrying a magic-null item like my blanket, just one that is not one-directional and inconvenient to use in that way.”

“You couldn’t make the blanket into a coat or something?”

“Maybe I could, if it had a hood, because I have to be completely under it. I’d have to wear it anytime I was going out as a girl, and you know what happens with girls in heavy coats in the winter? How it’s hard to even tell they are girls? And in the summer, it’d be completely out of place in addition to hiding that I’m a girl. No point.”

“I get it.”

“And on top of that, I don’t really have any desire to live as a girl. I’ve grown up all my life as a boy, and never really felt like I wanted anything like that.”

“OK. I never really thought about somebody voluntarily living with a curse, but that makes sense. You want to stick with what you know. This curse doesn’t have any other bad side-effects?”

“Not that I’ve ever noticed. I don’t know if it allows me to have children as a guy.”

“Well, I’m not ready for that anyway. But for you, did you wonder how sex felt as a girl?”

“Well, yeah. I have actually known about the blanket and its effect on me for about a month, and that’s really the only thing I’ve used it for, but I only learned why it did that when I talked to my dad last Saturday.”

“You didn’t tell him about the blanket earlier?”

“No. Remember, he hated the fact I wasn’t a more manly man. I wasn’t about to tell him about something that turned me from a scrawny and somewhat effeminate looking man into an actual woman. Until I met you, which gave me a sort of ethical dilemma. I wanted advice on whether I should tell you about the blanket, and to do that I needed to open up to my dad.”

“How did he take it?”

“It was actually a big relief to him, because he’d also been under a curse that prevented him from telling me Mom’s secrets. That she did magic, that I was under that curse, and that Mom didn’t really die when I was a baby; Aunt Sally was actually my mom. She left my dad and took up another name when Dad discovered she had been tricking him with magic.”

“Tricking how?”

“She was using a magical artifact which enhanced her sexually. She had bigger boobs and a more attractive appearance as a result.”

“Ah. I bet such a thing is really popular, among those with access to magical items.”

“Dad claimed he didn’t actually care, but Mom was so embarrassed by being found out that she ran off.”

“And abandoned you in the care of your father?”

“Yes. It was then that she put Dad under the curse, and told him about the one on me. I broke the curse on Dad by learning that I had this magic blanket in the house. It was worded that basically as soon as I learned about any magical device she used as being a thing based on magic, the curse broke. So Dad could tell me everything he knew.”

“Well that was lucky that you found out.”

“I don’t know for sure if she intended I find out this way. But I was her only heir. She had no brothers and sisters; her parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and such were all dead, if she had any cousins or more distant relatives nobody knew of them, and she had divorced Dad. I’m sure she knew that I would inherit her stuff if she died, since she didn’t leave a will, and that I would eventually find something magic of hers and break the curse.”

“That sounds right. She wanted to make sure that you found out, eventually.”

“I’m not so sure. She had most of her magic stuff hidden away where I’d probably never find it.”

“You found more magic stuff?”

“Once the curse was broken, Dad could send other witches over here to help me locate magical possessions among my inheritance. Most of them were things that just helped you do magic better, and didn’t help at all if you couldn’t do magic at all, which it seems I can’t. So they are going to sell it all for me, and I only have a handful of magical items left that normal people can use. Let me show you one.”

I went into my bedroom where I had the box of ignore-me charms, grabbed one, and set it on the table next to her before returning to my seat and picking up my last slice of pizza to eat.

“Oh, you surprised me! I didn’t see you come back here until you were right here next to me.”

“That’s the effect of the item I put on the table, one I am giving you. It’s basically an ignore-me charm. People won’t really notice you when you are carrying one unless you do something to draw their attention. I’ve only tested it a little, but I think it’s pretty strong and you should be careful carrying it. Like drivers might not notice you crossing the street in front of them until they hit you. That strong. You knew I was coming back and didn’t notice me until I was giving you the charm.”

“Yeah, oh, OK. You don’t want to keep it yourself?”

“I’ve got six more of them, and I only need one. Although it’s possible the effect might be stronger with multiple of them. It was strong enough with one that I didn’t want to try.”

“Stronger than that? If it was twice as strong, I think you could speak to me and I still wouldn’t notice you! But thanks! I’ll definitely be careful with this thing.”

Cindy put it away in her purse.

“So about you being a girl... Did you play with yourself?”

“Yeah. Like I said, it is difficult to go anywhere as a girl using the blanket, so I stayed here and did what I could, which was masturbate. I discovered while doing so that girl orgasms are way better than guy ones. They start weaker, but a guy has one big orgasm and is done for a while. A girl keeps having them, and they get stronger the more you have in a row, so that eventually they are individually stronger than the guy’s orgasm and collectively so much stronger there is not even a comparison.”

“Hah! So that’s the answer to that old question!”

“In doing that, I learned how to make a girl feel great during sex, and I applied that in what I did with you last Friday.”

“OK, so you are trying to use your power for good,” Cindy said with a laugh.

“Well, seriously, I want to make sure you know what I was doing, because while you might expect that I masturbate as a guy when I’m not with you, to think I was masturbating as a girl is perhaps pretty weird.”

“Hey, girls definitely masturbate!”

“I know it’s not weird for girls to masturbate, but if I’m going to be your boyfriend, it’s weird that I masturbate as a girl. And do you think of me as your boyfriend?”

“OK, you have a point there. As far as ‘boyfriend/girlfriend,’ I’m OK with it. I haven’t actually started calling you a boyfriend yet, but considering that you’re the first I’ve ever gone out on a second date with, as long as you don’t screw up somehow, it’s likely I will soon. If you want to call me your girlfriend I won’t object to that.”

“OK, girlfriend. And it was about not screwing up that I wanted to be sure I was honest with you about my behavior. So I’m glad you are OK with it.”

“You want to show me what you look like as a girl?”

“Ah, yes, there’s the price,” I joked. “Seriously, though, the blanket’s set up above my tub, so follow me.”

“You’re showering as a girl too?

“Well, when I first set it up it was over the toilet.”

Cindy interrupted, “Of course, because everybody masturbates there.”

“Yes. But the problem that way was that when I wanted to pee, I had to do it as a girl. Once I was a girl with no pants on, I was really tempted to masturbate. And once I start masturbating as a girl, I found it hard to stop until I completely exhausted myself. And then I need a shower anyway. I figured that this way, I’d limit myself to one female masturbation session a day and then I’d already be ready for the shower I need afterward.”

Cindy was cracking up during this explanation. When she was able to speak again, she asked, “Does showering your female body clean your male one?”

“Yes, it seems to be a transformation of my actual body, not like swapping it out for a completely different one. Why don’t you watch?”

I was standing at the entrance to my bathroom now, with Cindy watching from just outside the doorway, and I stripped off my clothes, and then, carefully, I walked backward into the tub so Cindy could see the important parts in the transformation. And I stepped in and out a few times, to give Cindy more chances to watch all of the change in action.

Cindy was speechless at first, but then she said, “Oh, God, your girl body is so much hotter than mine! No wonder you turn yourself on!”

Cindy kept watching as I kept showing her my transformation, but at the same time was starting to strip down herself. She unbuttoned and removed her blouse, pulled down her skirt and panties, and removed her bra so she was standing there as naked as I was by the time she talked again. I wasn’t exactly sure what she was planning, but I wasn’t about to stop it when a girl was stripping in front of me, without me even asking her to. Anything she did would be great!

And to my surprise, after all that stripping, what she asked was, “Is your girl body able to wear any of your Aunt Sally’s clothes?”

“Some of the skirts and pants, yes. Probably some loose fitting tops. But not bras, or anything tightly fitted at the top. Sally was much smaller than I am. If you watch, you’ll see that while I grow breasts, the torso they grow from is the same size as my guy body. While I’m small for a guy, I’m still on the large side for a girl. My waist shrinks a little, but my hips actually expand a little. My girl body weighs the same as my guy body, 152 pounds. And so the bras doubly don’t fit - my boobs are too large for the cups, and my body is too big around for the strap around the back.”

“It’s called the band.”

“What?”

“The part of the bra that runs all the way around your torso and fastens in back is called the band. The straps are the parts that go over your shoulders and hold it up.”

“Ah, thanks for that info,” I told Cindy.

At this point, Cindy came forward while I was in the tub (and thus a girl), hugged me, and kissed me. And that was definitely a new and very interesting experience. While the actual kiss was nothing particularly different from kissing as a guy, the boob-on-boob feeling was weird but nice. Not at all like the feeling of a girl’s boobs pushed against my guy body, and I am sure it was just as much different for her from kissing a guy.

After she broke the kiss, she explained, “I always wanted to try kissing a girl. I don’t think I’m really a Lesbian, but for the kind of kiss I was looking for, I figured I’d have to date one. And I was afraid to try that. What if the girl I asked out didn’t want to date another girl?”

“Hey, I’ve felt similar feelings when asking a girl out. Heck, I think every guy probably did before his first time asking a girl out. So what you felt was natural.”

“Thanks. But I think that’s enough of you being a girl. Come be a guy for me,” she said, pulling me by one arm out of the shower and into my bedroom.

So I didn’t have Lesbian sex that night. Cindy had the perfect opportunity to ask me for that, but instead she stopped at a kiss. After a bit of sex, we showered together, which was another interesting experience, especially as my girl body was in there with her.

When Cindy was getting dressed afterward, she commented, “My clothes probably won’t fit you either.”

And I knew she was right. While she wasn’t small-breasted, she was probably a size smaller in the cups and one or two smaller around the torso than my girl body was.

Cindy took her don’t-notice-me charm and went home.

Friday, January 26, 2008

When Cindy arrived the following Friday evening, she brought with her a strap-on.

“I know how much I am enjoying having sex with you, and you also enjoyed masturbating as a girl far more than as a guy, so I figured you’d like sex as a girl too, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t missing out.”

Wow, I thought to myself. I am not entirely surprised given her earlier comments, but wow.

And then I realized she was still trying to thank me by ensuring I got enough pleasure out of our sex sessions. Part of me wanted to decline, but I was afraid I’d hurt her feelings if I did so. Was there a way to politely decline? Or should I just go along with it? Ah, just go along with it. It’s a new experience, and one I’m not going to easily be able to get otherwise.

“OK,” I told her. “That means you’re going to be breaking my cherry, but if you can deal with it, I know I can!”

“You go, girl!”

I laughed.

“That’s the first time anybody’s ever said that to me, of course. Let me go move the anti-magic blanket so it is above my bed so we can enjoy ourselves there, unless you have a better idea.”

“Go ahead.”

That was the activity for the evening, her pleasuring me with her toy, her fingers, her mouth, whatever. She let me bring her to orgasm a couple times too, but mostly she wanted to make me feel good. And once she broke my hymen, I did actually enjoy it.

Friday, February 2, 2008

Cindy brought her strap on with her again, but we didn’t use it most of the night. We had sex in the regular way. Well, sort of regular; Cindy, for a girl who had been afraid to have sex at all, certainly had a lot of ideas for positions we could have sex in. We showered together afterward, and in the shower she put on the strap-on and fucked my girl body with it before we got serious about cleaning up.

This became our regular ritual every Friday night unless one of us had something else going on.

Chapter 6: Unraveling

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

After my morning shower, when I got out of the tub and stood on the bath mat while drying off, I didn’t turn back into a guy. It wasn’t until I had completely finished drying off and moved farther from the tub that I changed back.

The magic had done something like this once before, and it happened because the blanket had slipped from where I had random heavy objects holding it in place over the tub, and was covering my drying-off spot enough to keep me female there. So after I got fully dressed I went up to check on it. But not so this time. The blanket was perfectly in place.

What’s more, when I got close to it, I turned into a girl standing beside it, my boobs straining the fabric of the T-shirt I’d put on. Either the blanket was getting stronger, or the curse was getting weaker. I’d need to investigate more.

The investigation happened for me, when, during class that afternoon, I partly changed back into a girl. I only had pretty small boobs and under the desk I checked and found I still had my dick and balls, with my pussy peeking out between the balls. I grabbed my book bag and pretended to look for something in it while leaving it over my chest the rest of the class to hide this fact. Before class was over I was all male again, but I went straight home after class and called Clara, the witch who seemed most knowledgeable about magic when they were here before.

“Hi, Clara, it’s Tom.”

“Hello, Tom. How are you doing?”

“I think the curse is breaking.”

“Oh, how so?”

I told her what happened both this morning and this afternoon. “And it’s gotten worse; now my entire bathroom’s a girl zone even though the blanket’s still only over the tub upstairs.”

“How often have you been under the blanket?”

“Once a day most days, for 15 to 30 minutes. Only a couple nights for most of the night.”

“The blanket has probably been slowly weakening the curse, and now it’s starting to unravel.”

“What should I do?”

“First off, move the blanket to a place as far from where you live in the house as you can. I will try to get my group together and we’ll come visit you, inspect the curse, and either try to reinforce it or unravel it completely, because the state it is in now may be dangerous.”

“OK. Let me know.”

I called Dad and Cindy and let them know, and both wanted to know if they should come over. I told them it was probably better if they didn’t, but I would call them afterwards to let them know I was OK. About an hour later, while I was eating dinner at home alone, Clara called back and asked if it was OK if they came over in an hour. I told them yes. They showed up almost precisely an hour after I hung up the phone.

Clara examined me first, both visually and applying certain instruments and crystals and whatnot.

“Tom, the curse is definitely unstable. If we don’t do anything, you’ll randomly turn into a girl like what happened today more and more often, and within two or three weeks, the curse will either break completely and you’ll be a girl full-time, or it’ll partly unravel, and the part that remains may change you into something else, and who knows what you’ll end up looking like.”

“So what can you do to stop that?”

“One solution would be to recast the curse. It would completely replace the original spell, but I am not sure I have enough magical skill to do that, even with my friends here. Sally was much stronger than me, and I am the strongest of our trio in magic.”

“And if that fails?”

“Pretty much the same effects as the curse unraveling on its own, except it would happen all at once, and if it changes you into something else, the chance is much greater it’ll be something hideous, or that it’ll kill you.”

“Any other options?”

“In the state the curse is currently in, the three of us should be able to pick it apart and remove it safely. It’ll take all night.”

“And then I’ll have to live as a girl?”

“Sort of. I can enhance one of those ignore-me buttons you have with an illusion spell, so that while you are carrying it, when somebody does notice you, they’ll see you as they remember you, and not as you actually are now. People who knew Tom will see you that way, and be more likely to notice you the better they knew Tom, with the exception of those few people who knew about the curse, who will be unaffected. Strangers won’t notice you unless you draw your attention to them, but they may see you as a girl if you do.”

“OK. That may be good to get me through the rest of the term, when most people who matter on campus will see me as Tom, but some outings may get complicated. I’m going to need a permanent solution, either living as a girl full-time, or some better replacement magic to let me live as a guy.”

“This will also give us time to figure out the more long-term solution.”

I handed her a slip of paper. “I guess go ahead with it. These phone numbers are for my Dad and my girlfriend. If something goes terribly wrong for me such that I can’t call them myself, make sure you let them know. I already called them to tell them what was going on.”

“I really, really don’t expect the result to be that bad for you, but if it goes wrong, I will let them know.”

“OK, then, I am ready to get started, I guess.”

“Where’s the blanket now?”

“It’s in the subbasement, in that corner of the house,” I said, pointing to the front living-room corner away from my bedroom.

“OK. We will need to go down there anyway because the space best set up for working with magic is down there.”

One by one, we all took the tiny elevator down to the subbasement. There was a circle embedded in the floor which they led me to.

Clara requested, “I’m going to need you to strip completely and get into the circle. Your clothes are likely to get in the way of what we’re doing, and there’s also a significant chance they’ll be damaged.”

“Not like I haven’t shown you all already.”

I stripped and got into the circle. Clara did something which made a curtain of light flare up floor to ceiling around the circle, and one of the other witches got the blanket and laid it out flat on the ground nearby.

“Tom, the circle is going to protect us if anything goes wrong. The curse has anti-tampering measures which will try to fight back against us as we unravel it. Do you see the light above the circle?”

“Yes, like a curtain extending all the way around me.”

“It only affects magic. Specifically, it lets magic in but keeps magic from getting out, so it will let us work on the curse while blocking the curse’s attempts to fight us. It shouldn’t do anything do you while it is doing this, but you will notice flashes of light. Also, you can walk through it, but please don’t do so while we are working on this. If you see the curtain break - which shouldn’t happen, but could if the spell’s defensive measures are much stronger than I expect they are, and if it does, the whole curtail will vanish at once - then I want you to dive out of the circle onto the blanket and roll yourself up in it. That will turn off the curse along with whatever it is doing to us.”

“Understood. Dive and cover.”

“Now as for what you should expect to happen, Sandra here will be casting a spell which loosens the curse and makes it appear as a tangle of glowing filaments in the air around you. I will be removing those filaments one by one, magically pulling them away from the rest of the spell and through the curtain. Jen will be holding the other filaments in place while I remove each one. There’s another spell set up behind me on my right which will suck up the loose magic and keep it from messing up anyone or anything else. You won’t see that spell, but you may see the filaments flying that way.”

“So it’s pulling them away from where I’m supposed to dive. Sounds good.”

“Now for the dangerous part. It’s a curse, so it’s likely I’ll get resistance from parts of the spell. Those filaments will snap at me when I try to remove them, and it is also possible one of the ones Jen is holding will try to snap at her when I remove a different one. They may also shoot sparks or flames at us. All of those reactions should be stopped by the curtain. When I pull them through, they should be contained. And meanwhile, because we are taking apart the spell, at times you may turn female, or male, or half-and-half, or have extra limbs, weirdly colored skin, or other reactions. None of those things will be permanent. The only permanent change is you will be completely female all the time at the end.”

“OK. I’m ready for a little weirdness.”

The three witches conferred in a small huddle for a moment, and then they took their places on different sides of me, and Clara said, “Now we will begin.”

Sandra did her part, and just like Clara said, I could see the magic of the curse around me. What she failed to mention was how hideously ugly it was. Once the filaments stopped expanding, Jen started her part of the spell, which I could only tell because I saw some of the filaments clearly being pulled away from me in different directions, basically getting pinned along the curtain.

Clara cast several additional spells, to judge by the motions she made with her hands and occasionally other objects. One of them seemed to be providing signals to Jen, though they were visible to me, too. A green arrow appeared next to where Jen was holding a filament when Clara wanted her to release it, and she did so. Then she’d cast a spell on the filament itself. Sometimes the filament came out easily and was sucked into the magic vacuum as it withered. Sometimes it struck out violently against Clara or sometimes against Jen, sometimes multiple times, before Clara cast additional spells on it to weaken it. And sometimes the filament itself seemed to cast other spells, like she’d warned me. The curtain held, though.

After the 6th filament was removed, my boobs grew in, but I remained male down below. A couple filaments later I was flat-chested again. The very next filament had my pussy come in between my balls like I experienced in class this morning, along with the small boobs. And that’s when the weird stuff started. At one point, my male and female genitals both grew to enormous proportions. Later I was fully female again, and later male again. Another time I had male genitals but even bigger boobs than my female form normally had and I looked pregnant. After I had female genitals again, the “pregnancy” was revealed to be a huge glob of slime that oozed out of my pussy for half an hour, some of it dripping and some of it running down my legs, but all of it vanished when it touched the floor. Once that was finally through I turned green, and then normally colored but I had four legs, next three boobs, then a tail, and even two heads for a while.

This took a long time. It was past midnight according to a clock on the wall when it seemed like they were almost done, with only four filaments visible around me, when one of them whipped at Clara so hard it broke the curtain and I dived for the blanket and wrapped up like they’d told me.

I just stayed there until Sandra came to me and told me to stay calm. She rolled me, still inside the blanket, back to the circle marked on the floor. It was at least 15 minutes after that when I finally heard Clara’s voice again.

“Tom, I’m OK. The spell hit me, but I’ve patched myself up and I am ready to go on. I am still going to have to fight that thing after you get out of the blanket, though, so I’m going to do things a little differently. I’ve cast a bigger circle around you, and I have other defenses in front of me. When I say ‘go’ I want you to stand up, get yourself out of the blanket, and while remaining inside the inner circle yourself, throw the blanket as far as you can on the side away from me. Sandra will reactivate the inner curtain once the blanket is past, and recast the spell that makes the filaments visible. Then you’re going to witness a magical duel between me and that thing. It will probably destroy the curtain again and Sandra will recreate it, perhaps several times. It will snap at me but it should not be able to hurt me this time. And I will cast a bunch of other spells at it to control and eventually destroy it, while Jen tries to hold onto the other three filaments. If the outer curtain falls at any time, you dive for the blanket again. Got it?”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Go!”

Everything happened at once. I got myself out of the blanket and hurled it away. Sandra made the curtain of light, then recast the spell which made the filaments visible. Jen magically grabbed hold of the three of them which weren’t violently attacking Clara, and Clara dueled with the fourth one from behind at least four other shields besides the two curtains.

There were two magical shields I saw flare up when the filament attacked, one made of some kind of metal which was fixed on a stand between the inner and outer curtains, and one made of stone which was outside the whole thing, which she stood behind and peeked from one side of the other to cast spells. There could have been even more magical ones I couldn’t see.

Meanwhile, I was flipping back and forth between male and female; each time the filament attacked, I became female, and between attacks when it was holding more tightly around me, I was male, or half-and-half. The battle took nearly an hour before the gnarly filament finally died, and with it the last three filaments seemed to dissipate and the whole spell fell into pieces. Clara quickly magically hurled them into the magic trap.

I looked over myself and everything seemed to be the girl body I’d experienced many times now, with no weird discolorations, extra limbs, or other weirdness.

Clara said, “Sandra, can you check her? I am too exhausted to do it right now.”

Sandra said, “Sure. Tom, I am going to check you for residual traces of the curse. If it is really all gone then we’ll bring the curtains down and proceed from there.”

She looked over me for about 15 minutes, casting several spells as she did so. Finally she said, “All clear.”

Sandra and Clara made some motions and first the outer, then the inner curtain of light disappeared.

“Congratulations, Tom. Or should I say Thomasina?”

“I have not spoken that name yet, but in my mind I’ve been calling my girl body Thomasina.”

“All right. There are still quite a few things yet to be done, but I’m afraid you’ll going to have to take a sick day from class, as it’s almost 2 AM now and I am too exhausted to enchant one of your buttons now. And you’re going to need help with other things, too.”

“It’s OK. I am so tired now I will probably sleep through at least my morning classes anyway.”

“OK. Let’s all get some sleep. Tom, if you don’t mind, can we use your upstairs bedrooms?”

“Sure. The beds aren’t made, but each bedroom has bedding on a shelf above the clothes in one closet.”

“Thanks.”

We all made our way back upstairs via the tiny elevator, and into our respective beds.

Chapter 7: Girl Lessons

Thursday, May 1, 2008

I awoke around 11 to the sounds of movement elsewhere in my house and remembered the witches had stayed the night. I had come upstairs naked and gone directly into bed, and now I looked around for some clothes. Of course I had only boy clothes in my room, but I pulled on a pair of briefs and shorts which sort of fit, and the most oversized T-shirt I had which still stretched tight over my boobs now, but at least it covered me.

I remembered I had people to call, and called Dad and Cindy to let them know I made it through OK, that I was all girl all the time now, and that the witches were sticking around to help get me settled. Left them messages, anyway, since neither answered. I also emailed all my professors, told them I was sick and would not be attending class, and asked for the day’s assignments.

Then I made a stop at the bathroom, where I remembered I needed to sit down to pee now, resisting the urge to masturbate myself silly with three guests in the house. After cleaning up, I made my way to the kitchen, where the three witches were sitting at my kitchen table, a huge platter of pancakes and sausage was in the middle, and each of the witches had a plate which indicated the huge pile used to be even bigger. There was an empty place setting waiting for me at the fourth seat.

“Good morning, Thomasina,” Sandra called out upon seeing me. “Good morning,” Clara and Jen echoed.

“Good morning,” I replied. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

“It’s almost lunchtime, so call it brunch. I made enough for breakfast and lunch and then some, and we all need it after last night,” Jen responded.

I took that as an invitation to dig in, and did so.

When I finally wasn’t starving anymore, I asked, “So where do we go from here?”

Clara said, “There are several things to do. First off, I need to enchant your button the way I said, so you can continue to go to classes the next few weeks. I can do that today and have it ready for you to use for your first class tomorrow. You do want to continue your college education, I hope.”

“Yes. I might have different goals, but I’m only a freshman. I can still switch to any degree program, really.”

“Good. There are two options going forward. We can develop a more robust disguise that will work even against people who don’t know you, or we can set up your records as female and let you attend school as a girl.”

“All right. I am going to need to think about that.”

Sandra spoke up next. “Also, you need proper clothes. What you are wearing may not even allow the button to work because your boobs are so obvious. You need something like a big, oversized sweater and also a sports bra that will contain and minimize your breasts. Today I will assemble an outfit for you to wear tomorrow, and over the weekend we’ll figure out something for you going forward.”

“Good. I really didn’t know what I should wear this morning and just put on something that would make me decent.”

Then it was Jen’s turn. “And I can help you with everything you need to know about being a girl. What you’ve been doing in your shower is one thing, but going out into the world as a girl, and interacting with the world as a girl, especially one as well endowed as you are, is another thing entirely. Even if you stay disguised permanently, you are actually going to be a girl under the disguise and you will need to know some of these things.”

“Oh, yes. There’s a reason I didn’t ask to have the curse broken before, and that’s because I have no clue about lots of stuff most girls probably learned at half my age. So whatever you think I need to know, I probably need to know. Unless it’s how to reach orgasm; I’ve got that mastered.”

The witches all laughed, and we all went back to working on that pile of food.

It was a quarter past noon when I finally felt full, and the platter of food was down to only about 2 normal breakfasts, which Jen wrapped in Saran wrap and put in the fridge for me.

Clara said, “Thomasina, please bring me one of those ignore-me buttons and I will take it down to the subbasement and work on enchanting it.”

Sandra said, “After you do that, I want you to strip for me in the bathroom and I am going to take every measurement your body has and make sure you have some proper clothes.”

And Jen chimed in, “Once you’ve done those things for them, then I’ll have the rest of the afternoon to teach you girl stuff.”

So that’s how it went. I took care of Clara and Sandra’s needs quickly, and then it was just me and Jen.

“First off, as a girl, you will have periods. How much do you understand about periods?”

“I know they are kind of how the female body resets itself after not getting pregnant. I know girls wear pads and tampons to catch the period. I have never actually had one; even though I have been going female under the blanket for about 5 months now, it was usually for spurts of 15 to 30 minutes at a time, and I never progressed to the point of having a period.”

Jen pulled some things out of her purse. “This is a pad. It goes in the crotch of your panties. These waxed strips come off and reveal adhesive, which sticks to the panties. This narrow part should align with the narrow part of your panties. Once you have put one in, you can keep using it until it seems badly soiled. Always put it in the trash when you remove used ones, never in the toilet. Wanna try this out?”

I pulled off my shorts and she saw the boy briefs I was wearing.

“Oh, that won’t do. Do you still have some of Sally’s panties upstairs?”

“Yes. All the clothes that didn’t go to the consignment shops I kept for my uncertain future, since I already knew I was female under the curse by that point.”

“OK. Let’s go get you something more appropriate for this lesson, then.”

I picked any arbitrary pair of panties and put them on. They fit well enough, so then I practiced with the pad.

“Does that feel good?” Jen asked.

“A little weird, but it doesn’t itch or anything.”

“You will get used to it. But when you are doing more athletic activities, including any swimming whatsoever, you won’t be able to use pads. And some girls just don’t like wearing them, or find that they don’t contain their period well. When any of these cases apply, you can wear a tampon instead.”

The lesson in tampons culminated in me actually inserting and removing one. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, but it was still one of the less pleasant bits of being a girl I was going to have to get used to.

With this done, we moved on to talking about different kinds of clothes. She and I went through Sally’s various closets and dressers and found a few things that fit me for the lessons on how to move and sit as a girl.

“If you are wearing a short skirt, you have to keep your legs together when you sit down, when you stand up, and also while you are seated, in order to avoid flashing the people across from you. You can sit two ways: Either with your legs flat on the chair and together, or with one leg crossed over the other, like this.”

She demonstrated a way of sitting cross-legged that I had seen many women use. It would have been impossible for me to do as a guy because my dick and balls would have been in the way.

“With a tight skirt, keeping your legs together is the only choice. If you have a long skirt or pants, then you don’t have to be so careful, but you will still see women in such clothes sit in these two ways because they get used to it. This includes crossing your legs under a long, loose skirt.”

And when she pointed it out, I realized I had seen women sit like that in long skirts. “That makes sense,” I replied.

I put on one of the skirts and practiced these things. Then we talked about other clothes. She explained slips to me, which served two purposes: They helped keep a skirt from sticking to my legs, and they helped keep parts of me from showing through skirts and dresses that were very sheer. They came in two styles, a so-called half-slip that went under a skirt and which looked like a very simple skirt, and a full slip which went under a dress, and looked like a very simple dress with tiny shoulder straps. There were other things that served similar purposes under a blouse.

About this time, Sandra came back with some clothes for me. There was a package of new panties so I wouldn’t have to wear Sally’s, a loose sweater that didn’t look too girly that could possibly pass for something a man might wear but was big enough my boobs would not strain against it, and some bras. She handed the bundle over to Jen, and Jen opened the panties and gave me one to put on before we continued the lesson.

“This is a sports bra, large size. You are actually so large you might consider an extra large, but Sandra thinks you will fit in a large. While you are trying to pass yourself as Tom you want to minimize the size of your breasts as much as possible to make them less obvious and allow the magic to work better, and for that purpose the smaller size is better. You just pull it on over your head like a very tight shirt. It will feel like it is compressing your breasts a bit because it does, but it also helps contain them so they don’t sway around. For someone with breasts as large as yours, that is a real issue.”

“So it’s kind of like a girdle for boobs?”

Sandra laughed. “It is in fact a bit like a girdle for boobs. There are probably magic ones, but this is an ordinary one.”

I stripped off the T-shirt I had put on this morning, exposing my oversized breasts to the two women, and pulled on the sports bra with some difficulty. Jen handed me the T-shirt to put back on, and I was amazed how different the fit was. It no longer looked like I was about to burst the shirt open.

“This is a standard bra in your size 38D. It doesn’t compress you as much, but it still keeps you from swaying around.”

I stripped again and tried on the newly offered bra. True to her word, when I put the T-shirt on over it, it still looked like I was about to burst the shirt open, unlike I had with the sports bra. The major advantage of this garment, aside from stopping the swaying, was that my nipples didn’t show through the shirt the way they had without any bra.

I stayed in these clothes as Jen went through other subjects, some of which would not actually matter to me in disguise as a guy, like having to deal with guys staring at my boobs, but since one of my options was to eventually live life full time as a girl, it was good for me to know these things.

She also gave me some tips about going to the bathroom as a girl. All of it made sense, but these were things that as a guy I’d never needed to think about.

With those lessons done, I spent a while dealing with schoolwork a couple professors had sent over. Just as that was done, Clara came back with the button.

“This ignore-me button has been modified as I described. I’ve also added a magic glow to it that only you will see. If you are only around people who are not noticing you, it will glow green. If you are around people who see Tom, it will glow blue. If you are around people who see you as a girl, it will glow red. If you are around some combination of them, for example if you are in a class with both Cindy and classmates who knew you only as Tom, it will cycle through the relevant colors.”

I pinned it to my shirt. “So it’s red now because you know I’m Thomasina. Since Cindy isn’t actually in my classes, it should be blue and/or green most of my day at school tomorrow, unless I meet Cindy for lunch or walking to or from campus. And I had a date planned with Cindy tomorrow evening, when it should be red again.”

“Right. It’ll be your choice whether to invite her over here or cancel tomorrow evening. If she comes she can help in your learning to dress and behave as a girl. We’ll leave you alone then if you want to be with her, but we’ll be back Saturday morning.”

“Hmm. I guess I’ll still have her come.”

“One other thing. If you have to use a public restroom, be careful who you are with. You’re going to go sit in a stall no matter what, but your button color will help you figure out which one is safe to be seen entering. If you can find a place with single-stall unisex restrooms where you’re guaranteed to be alone, it’s for the best.”

“Tricky. I guess I’ll just have to be careful. Probably I should only use the button while going to classes, and just try to live my life outside of school as a girl. No button means everybody sees Thomasina, right?”

“Right.”

Clara left, and I noticed that the glow vanished completely. I guess that means i am really alone.

Jen made us some dinner, and what I was served was still twice what I normally ate for dinner, but not the huge servings I’d had at brunch. Clara explained I still needed to get some of my strength back after that ordeal, and I’d need a few more meals like this. Tomorrow’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner should all be double as well.

“Guess I’m eating lunch at the all-you-can-eat campus cafeteria then.”

“Yes, good choice.”

In the evening, I pooped as a girl for the first time. It was also the biggest poop of my life, owing to having eaten about three times the amount of food today as I ate in any normal day. The toilet was so full I flushed partway through and then again after I was really done.

I also called Cindy and told her our regular date was on, though I was going to be all girl all the time now.

About 9 PM the witches left, allowing me to get a proper night’s sleep, though I had some difficulty, in part because it was only 10 hours since I had gotten up, and in part because I wasn’t used to sleeping as a girl. I did it that time the power went out, and one other time. Last night, when I was barely able to get into my bed before passing out, did not count. But I was out cold by about 9:30.

Chapter 8: Living as Thomasina

Friday, May 2, 2008

I got up a little early to plan my first day as a girl only pretending to be a guy, as opposed to the way I had been a girl transformed into a guy by a curse all the rest of my life. It was different because I had to dress the girl body. But at least I already had my clothes selected: the sports bra, an oversized T-shirt, the very loose sweater, new panties, and some shorts of Aunt Sally’s which had pockets and belt loops and all the other stuff of men’s styles, but were actually cut to fit a girl’s body better. The sweater was fine in the morning, but was probably going to be overdressed later in the day. But I didn’t have anything else that wasn’t going to make it obvious I had large breasts, which was going to cause problems with the people who knew me as a guy.

And, of course, I pocketed the special ignore-me button, which Clara had painted blue to help distinguish it from all the normal gray ones.

Another reason to start early was to have time to eat my double breakfast.

I made it to my 9:00 class on time, but from the moment I walked in I knew something was wrong. The guys were all staring at me the way guys stared at hot girls. One of the girls who never talked to me beckoned me to come sit next to her. And the professor called on Thomasina in class. That was me; there wasn’t another Thomasina. And nobody thought anything weird of it when he did and when I answered. In fact, nobody seemed to think anything at all was wrong, as if Thomasina had been going to school with them all along. And the button was red.

I had another class immediately afterward, and the same thing happened there, and again in a third class. After that class, and on my way to lunch, I called Clara to tell her about it.

“Your special button didn’t work the way you expected.”

“How so?” she asked.

“Everybody sees me as Thomasina. Nobody sees Tom. But also nobody notices that I changed. What I expected when my identity was revealed is a whole mess of snickering, ridicule, and such from everybody over the fact that I’d changed genders. There was none of that; it was as if I’d been Thomasina all along.”

“OK. That’s weird. That should not have happened. I will need to check it out later. Is it OK if I drop by right after you get back from school, before your date? What time would that be?”

“Sure. Be there at 5:15.”

I went through the rest of my day the same way, with people reacting to me often in different ways from how I remembered from all year long (or even longer for the few people I’d gone to school with before college), but in ways that made sense if they had known me as Thomasina from the start. The button was red all day long, sometimes with green cycling in for the people who couldn’t see me, but never any blue.

At least by the time I needed to use the restroom, it was clear I was going to be using the ladies’ room. I was a little worried, but it was dead simple. Everything is done in a toilet stall, everybody sits, and that was what I had to do anyway. Handwashing is normal; it was all remarkably like using a men’s room but without urinals. And it smelled better.

Clara was waiting for me when I got home, but said she hadn’t been waiting long.

“I had planned on just picking up the button from you, but my further checking has revealed that the curse I lifted from you went deeper than I ever would have expected.”

“How so?”

“An element of the curse or a side-effect of removing it changed all your records and the memories of people who knew you to behave as if you had been female from the first time you met them, with only people aware of the curse before it was removed being able to remember otherwise. All records of your existence show you as Thomasina. Check your wallet.”

I had not yet started using a purse, in part because I thought I was expecting people to see me as a guy today, so I still had the wallet I used as Tom, which was in my back pocket the way I carried it before. And there was a state ID card, a college ID card, and my debit card all in the name of Thomasina. The picture still looked like me, but something about my face was subtly more female than I had looked before. I think it was something about my hair, and when I showed it to Clara she agreed it was a more feminine hairstyle than I had, but she agreed it was a good match for what I looked like now.

“Thomasina, as far as I can tell, everything in the world changed like that. Your school records back to kindergarten, the memories of your teachers and childhood friends, everything. All except for the memories of the five people who knew about Thomasina before 2 days ago. That’s why the button didn’t work, because the spell on it was designed to show Tom only to people who only knew Tom and not Thomasina. But now nobody knows Tom except the people who knew you as Thomasina before the curse broke.”

“Wow. I wonder what that means for Jeannie. Did we ever date in this new reality? And what about the hookup party? That was guy-girl only. I’ll have to figure that out somehow, if I think it really matters.”

“It’s possible we can use some magic to help you recall things your alter ego experienced before you took up residence, if you need us to, but it will be a long experience, likely a whole evening. Let us know if you want us to set something up for that. As for tomorrow morning, we are still on, but with different goals. Is 9 AM OK, Thomasina?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

Clara left, and I got ready for my date with Cindy. She came over right on time, with her strap-on, but this time we took turns with both roles using it, and had a lot of fun doing other things that two intimately familiar girls can do with each other. She knew I used to be Tom and was now always Thomasina, and she understood what happened, but even so, she didn’t seem in the least fazed by the change. She was just as comfortable dating Thomasina as she had been Tom. But then, we’d had fun as two girls in bed before, and she had told me of her Lesbian inclinations, so maybe there wasn’t any extra magic going on there.

She left while it was still a reasonable hour, and I got to bed in order to get up with plenty of time to get myself ready for my 9 AM appointment with the witches.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

I awoke at 7, and after a shower, I scrounged for some clothes. Another new pair of panties was easy. And Sally still had more shorts of the same style as I had worn yesterday. But I only had the two bras that Sandra had brought back Thursday that fit me, and after wearing the sports bra through a whole day of school and part of my date until we got naked, I decided that the other bra which had been worn for maybe 4 hours at home was less used, and put it on. Sally had some of what were probably meant to be loose sweaters which were tight on me, so I put one of those on over one of my T-shirts which was close to busting.

Some breakfast, and then I welcomed the witches back into my house. They were each carrying a couple flattened cardboard boxes.

Clara jumped right in. “Thomasina, I’m going to cut to the chase. You have to be ready to live as a girl right now, 100% of the time, and we need to get you ready this weekend. Whatever your friends might have thought odd in your behavior yesterday you can blow off as residual muzzyheadedness from your sickness, but come Monday you need to act, dress, and otherwise behave like the girl your classmates have known all year, or longer in some cases.”

“Where do we start?”

“Clothes. We are going to go through all the clothes in this house, Tom’s and Sally’s, and you’re going to put everything that fits you and isn’t so absurdly mannish that no woman would ever wear it into that bedroom you actually use, and box up Tom’s other clothes and put them into the attic. And then we’re going to go shop for enough clothes for you to have at least a week’s set for warm weather and a week’s set for chilly weather. The cold weather stuff is over by now, but you’ll need that before next winter, too.”

There were four of us and four bedrooms, so we divided the work. Clara had a neat trick; she cast a spell on me that made a mannequin in my exact size. She cast it three times, once in each upstairs bedroom, to provide a model for testing clothes in each room, while I could go through Tom’s clothes in my downstairs bedroom with my real body. Even with that, there were a lot of clothes, but I made good progress by not bothering to try on things I knew would not work for a girl and just put them into the boxes. They ordered lunch, and when it came we all took a break to eat.

When we finally finished, well into the afternoon, each of them estimated how much they found that would fit me, and we all gathered in the bedroom I was using. When they added up their numbers, Sandra told me, “We found roughly enough clothing that fits you to fill your closets and dresser in here, so we can skip the clothes shopping trip today. But I need to explain something about sizes, which will be better at the table.”

So we all went to my dining room table. Sandra provided a size chart which showed the approximate dimensions for common sizes, and went over them with me.

“I guess this is something every woman needs to know, so here’s your lesson. Women’s clothing sizes are complicated. You can see here the bust, waist, and hip measurements for various sizes. Most dresses, skirts, blouses, and some pants are sold in these sizes. Some less fitted styles are sold in the S/M/L sizes which appear in each chart as well. The bust is the biggest measurement around your breasts, right over the nipples. The waist is the narrowest measurement around your stomach, and the hip is the widest measurement at your hips.”

“I see. But explain all these different categories, please.”

“Misses are the even size numbers in the first table. These are the standard clothing sizes, designed for the most typical women, of average height, with average bust height, which means that your boobs are in the typical position on your chest, and with curvy bodies, meaning smaller waists and bigger hips. Juniors are for shorter, less curvy women. The model for these is teens who haven’t fully grown out yet, but some fully grown women fit these sizes as well. They use odd size numbers, and are comparable to the next larger size, but shorter, with higher busts, and with waist and hip sizes that are closer together. Half sizes are also for shorter women, but with lower busts and body shape like misses sizes. They have a 1/2 after an even number. And women’s sizes, which used to and may occasionally still be called plus sizes, are designed for heavier women, with a W after the size number. The size scale is different, but as you can see here, a 14W is close to a misses 18, except with a larger waist. And there are petite and tall versions of all of these, with P or T to indicate women who are shorter or taller than the other sizes are designed for.”

“Wait, some of those were already shorter.”

“Yep, and petite versions of them are shorter still. Of course you are not going to be considering a petite anything.”

“OK. I get it. Men’s sizes go by height and, um, thickness. Women have those too, but also have to worry about the relative sizes of their boobs, waist, and hips, whether their boobs are higher or lower on their body, and they also have more fitted clothes, so those dimensions are important.”

“Yes. You have it exactly. And when you are buying clothing, you need to consider whether each garment is most tightly fitted around the bust, waist, or hips and buy something appropriate. It’s possible for a woman to be three different dress sizes for different styles of dress, even ignoring the manufacturer differences.”

“The what?”

“These charts are only approximate. Each manufacturer uses their own definitions of sizes, and they may sometimes vary from these numbers. So it’s really important to try things on.”

“Ugh.”

“Now flip the chart over and you will see some more specialized sizes. Panties have their own weird sizing that isn’t used for anything else. Don’t ask me why, but at least it’s pretty standard, though some use S/M/L sizing. Tights and hosiery have this letter chart based on height and weight ranges. Don’t worry about this too much, because the packages have a similar chart on them. The sizes cover broad ranges because they stretch in two dimensions, so the same tights can fit a taller, thinner woman or a shorter, heavier one. Bras are sized based on the band length and cup size. The band size is actually the length of the band in inches. It’s measured directly under your breasts. The cup size is a letter, where A means your bust is one inch bigger than your band size, B is two inches, and so forth. Jeans are sized the same way as men’s jeans, by waist and inseam length, except often with a hip measurement as well so that women with larger hips can buy based on that rather than the waist; that’s why there’s no chart there. Shoes, likewise, are sized the same way as men’s, except for some reason the numbers are off by one. A women’s 10 is the same size as a men’s 9. Also, they make them narrower, so a women’s standard shoe is a B width, while a men’s is D, and women’s wide is D while men’s is EE. In some shoes you can find specific widths as well.”

“Wow. That’s a lot to take in.”

Sandra then presented another page to me.

“Here I have all your measurements from the other day, and I also wrote out the sizes you should look for in different types of garments, so you don’t strictly need this chart. Keep in mind that different manufacturers vary and you may sometimes have to go up or down a size.”

She’d even drawn little pictures of the kind of dresses that might be most fitted at the bust, waist, and hips. One of them had an X drawn through it.

“Thanks. This helps me understand all the different sizes and why there are so many sizes. What about the Xed out one?”

“This is the kind of dress you might wear if you were going dancing, or at formal events. It’s fitted at both the bust and the waist. But because your bust is so much larger than your waist in terms of dress sizes, you’re never going to be able to wear an off-the-shelf size in such a dress. Even buying a large size and having it tailored to fit you might be difficult. You’re likely going to need a completely custom dress.”

I frowned. “Well, I probably am going to want something like that at some point. Guess that’s going to require money.”

Sandra produced yet another page.

“Now what’s interesting is that we found that the four bedrooms in this house had clothes sized for four different women. I had to separate the ones you brought up from down here with the ones that were already in that bedroom, but here’s our best guess at sizing those four women.”

I had never actually gone through all the clothes before, so this result surprised me, but I guess it shouldn’t have. Why did Sally have four bedrooms full of clothes? Enough for a very full wardrobe for four women, even accounting for the way women have more clothes than men? Because they were for four different bodies.

“Huh? Oh, wait. Dad explained to me that Sally was using that appearance-enhancing doohickey when she was going by the name Frieda when he was with her, through the entire time she acted as my mother. Frieda probably had different sizes from Sally. That could explain two of these.”

“Yes, probably these two,” Sandra pointed out. “This seems closest to the size we remember Sally being, and this is a plausible result of that device giving her larger breasts and a narrower waist for this same size woman. These other two, on the other hand, look like the result of applying a size-changing spell. This woman was Sally shrunk down by about 10% in every dimension, while this one was taller and larger by the same amount.”

I compared the bust, waist, hip, bra, and height sizes for the four women, or four versions of Sally, anyway, and compared them to my own sizes.

“And I’m somewhere in the middle,” I pointed out. “I’m closest to this woman, the one you think was Frieda, including having exactly the same bra size, but I’m somewhere between regular and small Sally in the waist and hips.”

“And while big Sally was a 40C, that’s almost the same bust size as you, so you’ll be able to wear some of her dresses as well. They’ll just be longer on you. In fact we found garments from all four collections that fit you.”

They had ordered some dinner before this explanation started, so when it came we all stopped and ate. After eating, it was time to actually move the clothes. They had laid out on the beds upstairs all the clothes that fit me, and put the rest back in the closets and dressers. I had discarded most of Tom’s old clothes as not appropriate, and put them into the boxes they’d provided as I went through them. We put them up into the attic now just in case the old Tom ever came back. Then they moved all the clothes that fit me into the downstairs bedroom, so I’d have them handy. I was glad to have an instant wardrobe, and there were a bunch of nice-looking clothes there. Clothes that I would have to get used to wearing. I sorted them out as I put them into the closet, so all the dresses were hanging together, vaguely sorted by length, skirts next, and each other category of garment in one group, ending with the jackets and coats sorted roughly in order of the warmth they’d provide.

Likewise I sorted the categories of clothing that went into the dresser as I put them away. I chose not to keep Sally’s used panties, but there were several unopened packages in my size which gave me a starting supply. I was especially glad to see winter gear included, which was essential, though I would not need it for several months. One of the clothing lessons I had learned from Jeannie was about tights. The tightly woven ones that were opaque, even though they were thinner than a pair of slacks, because they kept the air out provided a certain level of insulation. But thicker leggings provided more, and even more so for “long johns” that were almost identical to what I was used to except they were smooth over the crotch. All of these were present in the collection. There were similar tops, some of which you put on like a shirt but had a part that fastened in the crotch. I guess that was the equivalent of guys tucking in shirt tails as a way of keeping them from riding up.

As I finished putting things away, I told the witches, “I think the only thing I’m going to need to buy are more of those sports bras. I like the feel but Sally only had a couple of them in my size. But I can get those.”

The last part of it was purses. They’d found 8 purses, and Jen lined them up on my bed as I finished putting the new clothes away. I knew i’d need one, and like with everything else it appeared I had choices.

Jen explained, “This small one is essentially a woman’s wallet. You’d put your ID, credit cards, cash, and other cards like store discount cards in here, and put it inside whichever other purse you carry. Use it to keep together all the things you have just one of and have to carry even if you switch purses.”

“Switch?”

“Sometimes you just want to carry a small bag like this one, but other times you want to carry more stuff, so you use a larger one. Ask Cindy; I’ve seen her carrying a large purse and I’m sure she’ll be glad to show you what she carries in it if you ask.”

I shrugged. “Well I know that wallet. Aunt Sally was using it along with one of these purses but I cleaned them out back when I moved in. I can certainly use it.”

I reached for the wallet and Jen handed it over, saying “There’s about ten bucks in here we collected from all the purses. All the other things we found in them are in the largest bag.”

I transferred my stuff from Tom’s wallet into the one Jen provided, put it in the smallest of the other purses, and added two tampons and a pad from the supply I’d been given earlier, and my keys, and set it on top of my dresser. I looked briefly in the largest bag, which was half full of stuff that included makeup, perfume, combs and hair brushes, a nail clipper with slide-out nail file, about forty pens and pencils, a tin of mints which was past its expiration date which I threw in the garbage, a second set of keys which I took out to compare with the ones I already had, and even a pair of panties.

“OK, this at least gives me some idea of what else belongs in my purse. But panties?”

“You’d carry that in case you ruin the ones you have on. That could mean the kind of accident you’re familiar with, or an unexpected start of the period.”

I nodded, put that bag behind the other one on my dresser, and tossed all the empty purses up onto the shelf in the closet, along with Tom’s now empty wallet. How many more girl lessons did I still need to learn?

There was just enough time left in the day for a clothing lesson, during which Jen and Sandra made sure I knew how to wear every kind of clothing. Having sorted the clothes I could wear did make this easier.

At 9:30 they left, letting me sleep alone again.

Chapter 9: New History

Sunday, May 4, 2008

The witches were over at 9 in the morning to continue. After approving of the blouse and skirt I picked out, this morning was all about the way I acted. How I stood up, sat down, how I approached and started conversations with people, how I carried my purse, and a bunch of variations on this. I’d gotten some of this already, but this reinforced those lessons and extended them. At the end of this, they told me they were inviting another woman, Sydney, who was going to help us explore my new history. She arrived while we were eating lunch, and she said she’d already eaten, so she just waited for us to finish.

Clara explained, “We realized last night that this ritual was over our heads, so we brought in a telepath. And since you’re the expert, Sydney, I will let you explain.”

“Thanks, Clara. What the curse did was not changing the actual history. If it had done that, we wouldn’t even know. It would just be one day you’re Tom, the next day you’re Thomasina, and none of us, not even you, would remember being Tom. That level of magic was even beyond Sally. What her curse did was change people’s perceptions of history. Memories, mainly, and also a few tangible things like records.”

“Right,” I responded. “It didn’t change, for instance, my entire wardrobe to the girls’ clothes I would have owned if I had actually been a girl all along, but it had enough power to change important things like my ID.”

“As a powerful telepath, I can read minds, look back through them and replay specific memories, even ones they may no longer consciously remember themselves. I have to have a connection to the minds I am going to read, but you’re going to be that connection. All the people whose memories are relevant are people with a connection to you, in important events of your life.”

There was a short ritual for this, which was kind of like a seance is popularly depicted, except that what we summoned was like a 3-D video recording of the scenes we were after. And we stuck through it all afternoon and evening.

Sydney summoned up the first scene, “When was Thomasina’s mother last happily married to her father?”

We saw a scene from when I was a baby. Dad was there; Mom wasn’t visible, because it was from her eyes, but I heard her speak.

“OK, Thomasina, now you go. Ask the questions to bring up the memories for events you think changed when the curse broke and you became female all the time.”

“Who introduced me to Cindy?”

On the night when Brad had invited me to the hookup party in the reality I experienced, now it was Scarlett, the girl Tom barely knew, but who had eagerly invited Thomasina to sit beside her in class Friday morning. During some cafeteria meal, Scarlett set me up on a blind Lesbian date with Cindy after learning both of us were interested in girls but single, and gave me Cindy’s dorm room number to go find her there. Well, she didn’t say it was Cindy, but I remembered the number.

“Show my first date with Cindy.”

But it was the male me with Cindy the way I remembered it, and I frowned.

Sydney interjected, “Nobody else was with you, and your memories and Cindy’s were not affected, so the only memories of this event are of Tom. If you can find a part of it someone else saw, you may be able to bring that up, though.”

“Any witnesses to Cindy and Thomasina’s first date.”

There was a short scene. It was inside Cindy’s dorm room. Cindy answered a knock at the door and it was me. Another girl we heard but didn’t see (was it Scarlett again?) said, “Good, you’re here. Cindy, Thomasina, the room’s yours all night. I’ll be back in the morning. Feel free to watch any of my porn DVDs.” Then she left me and Cindy there alone.

“Guess that is all I can get of that one. Who did Thomasina date in high school?”

In this version, I dated a couple of the boys who I’d called my friends when I was a boy, but only once each. Sydney explained how I could ask the display to skip forward in time or to the next event entirely, since it was giving us the whole date for each one, so I skipped through, mainly interested in seeing who I had dated as Thomasina. Finally there was a conversation with Jeannie. I saw Thomasina tell her I’d never felt right about boys when I was asking her out. She said she’d never considered dating another girl before but agreed to try it. We went on a few dates, and tried Lesbian sex a couple times (which I skipped through to keep it from becoming a porn show). While I enjoyed it, Jeannie decided it just wasn’t for her and broke it off, saying she was going back to dating boys. I dated a couple other boys after that who asked me, once each, including going to my senior prom with a boy I’d never dated before.

“Well that was depressing. In Tom’s history Jeannie was the only girl he dated regularly, but that lasted all senior year. Thomasina got four dates with Jeannie and it was over.”

Those were the biggest questions I needed answered, but I was curious about other things. I knew Dad still remembered Tom, so what was Thomasina’s history with him like? So my questioning went there when we picked it up again.

“How did I get along with Dad?”

In these memories I saw my male self exactly as I remembered it, including encouraging me by paying for my senior year dates with Jeannie.

“Did Dad approve of my choices in dates?”

The scene I saw was about him telling Tom he approved of Jeannie.

“What happened when Dad met the guys Thomasina dated?”

There was nothing.

“Hmm. It seems like Dad is still attached to the history when I was male.”

“That makes sense. The curse didn’t change your memory, or Cindy’s, or any of ours,” Clara commented. “It could be that it didn’t affect us because we knew Thomasina before the curse broke. Since you’re asking for a conversation that only occurred between the two of you, you can only get the old history version.”

“Can you all come back another time when my Dad and Cindy can come over? I think they should get to see some of the new history they missed, too. And maybe they will have more ideas how to see it.”

“Sure. Just let us know.”

Friday, May 9, 2008

I’d arranged to get everybody over at my usual time with Cindy. Everybody would be staying fully clothed tonight, and seeing bits of the current history of our lives that we’d missed by seeing my old life. But Clara started with some explanation.

“When I removed Tom’s curse, most of the strands of the curse succumbed to the normal curse-fighting spells, but there was one strand near the end which fought back fiercely, and it took more than an hour to defeat. It was in fact the last one I had to fight, because the remaining few fell apart when it was defeated. I did some more research into curses that react when broken, and based on that I believe this strand was the one which changed memories to a version in which the curse never existed and Tom grew up as Thomasina. Every time it lashed out at me, it was changing one memory to agree with Tom being Thomasina. And the reason it lashed out at me specifically was because I was the strongest magically of those present. It wasn’t trying to hurt me; it was using me as a conduit for its memory-changing effects to get out into the world.”

“One memory per lash? So it only changed, what, 100 or so memories in all?” I asked.

“The memories changed could be broad. The collective memories of your classmates, of your times in school together, could be one memory changed in one lash for you to do the same things but as Thomasina. But changing that left conflicts, for instance, with male you dating some of them or asking them out on dates. So memories of their dates with you changed or were eliminated. And likewise, some of the guys would have asked Thomasina out, and it added new memories for that.”

“Everything’s interrelated, isn’t it? So when it changed my dates’ memories, that then became inconsistent with the stories of other people in their memories, such as other people my dates dated, and that had to change too, and so on?”

“Yeah. That’s what the 100 changes were about. And the spell only had so much power to change things, so it undoubtedly left ripples behind where things don’t connect. What’s likely, though, is that the spell finally succumbed to my attempts to subdue it once those ripples were small and unlikely to be noticed. Perhaps, on one of the nights that a guy now remembers dating Thomasina, he dated some other girl in reality, and that girl still remembers dating him that night, but if they are not communicating anymore, it’s unlikely the conflicting memories will come into contact, and it’s OK that those memories don’t agree.”

“So why did it specifically exclude people who knew Thomasina?”

“It’s possible that it was a safety measure, to keep our memories from getting too scrambled. Or it’s possible that too much of our memories would have had to change. Imagine, for instance, every instance of your dad interacting with you changing to interacting differently with Thomasina. That’s different than you just being in class with other kids. Fathers don’t interact with their daughters in the same way as they do with their sons, as much as you might like to think gender equality exists.”

“Right. Dad couldn’t have wanted Thomasina to be a manlier man, though he might have still wished she’d been his son.”

“That’s one possibility among many. If Sally had never cast the curse, would she still be together with your Dad? That would have forced rewriting essentially all your dad’s last 18 years of memories. If it had enough power to change so much, te spell would have literally killed me, or burnt out my magical ability, trying to do it. For us three witches, every interaction with you, with your dad, and to a certain extent with Sally would have had to change, and the curse almost certainly couldn’t change the memories of its own destruction which were only being formed as it was changing the memories of others. I suspect the six of us are entirely unaffected because trying to change our memories would have caused internal conflicts it wasn’t strong enough to resolve.”

“OK. We should probably get on with showing our guests what they are missing.”

“Sure.”

Sydney explained her role for Cindy and Dad, and the four ladies performed the rituals to enable our look into other people’s memories, and asked me to take control again once it was ready.

“Who set up the first date between me and Cindy?”

We heard Scarlett asking me if I had a girlfriend, and then asking me if I was OK with her setting me up on a date with another girl. I said yes. Next we saw a scene I didn’t see before, Scarlett telling Cindy she saw how she was looking at her, and going on to say she already had a girlfriend, and asking Cindy if she had one. Again, when she said she didn’t, she asked if it she could set Cindy up on a date with another girl. I skipped forward, and we saw the same scene I saw earlier of Cindy’s roommate leaving us alone for our first date.

“Wow!” Cindy exclaimed. “Of course it was Scarlett. When I tried to go there with Tom the night we met, Scarlett didn’t know, and she was having sex with her girlfriend in our room. Since she set us up, she left us alone there and went on her date elsewhere. A sleepover, apparently, since she said she’d be back in the morning.”

I added, “As Tom, I barely ever even talked with Scarlett. I never realized she was Lesbian. I also didn’t realize she was your roommate.”

Cindy said, “Oops. I know I mentioned I had a roommate but maybe I didn’t talk about her much. Anyway, the most surprising thing is that Scarlett recognized what I saw in myself as maybe, just maybe a little curiosity about how it was to date another girl, and took it upon herself to set me up with one.”

Clara explained, “The magic of the curse changed as little as it could. Cindy did have Lesbian leanings or at least curiosity and it was far simpler to just make that a little stronger, at least in Scarlett’s view, so as keep you together, rather than to have you end up dating somebody else entirely. It’s trying to minimize the inconsistencies, and anything that doesn’t end up with you two dating is a huge one.”

After this, I showed them my dating experience in high school, up to where I started dating Jeannie.

I explained, “Cindy, Jeannie was my first real girlfriend. If we were doing this for Tom’s memories, Jeannie would be the only one you see. It was only at the end of the year, with Jeannie destined to go to a big-name school far from here and Tom sticking around here, that we decided it was better for each of us to go our own way than try to make a long-distance romance work.”

And then I let them finish, showing only the first few and last few minutes of each date, and they saw Jeannie breaking up with Thomasina after only four dates.

Cindy commented, “Awww. At least she was still your date and is still a friend.”

“Yeah, I could probably still call her as a friend today, but what we had is gone.”

I tried to get memories of Dad with Thomasina next, through the eyes of neighbors, teachers and my classmates at school events, and the like. A lot of it was still unavailable, but I got some good moments. It was notable that except for wearing girl clothes, before puberty I looked almost exactly the same as I remembered. I paused the playback of one memory with a good view of Thomasina’s 10-year-old face while she was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, and I dug out a photo album. We still had print photos up to that age, and I passed around pages of Tom at that age for them to compare.

“Except for having longer hair, Thomasina looks almost identical to this photo of Tom,” Jen pointed out, sharing the page with the whole group.

Cindy chuckled, “That was probably the last year that was true.”

Then, directing a query into the running spell, she suggested, “Show Thomasina bra shopping with her school friends.”

“Oh, sheesh!” I responded.

But I let the memories play out. They showed me modeling some of the bras for my friends. It was not surprising to me that I was trying on C-cup bras while my friends were getting A’s and B’s. The memories didn’t show me actually putting the bras on, because my friends were not in the changing booth with me. But there was a girl from the store there. Amy, per her nametag, and she did go in there with me to help me with the bra.

I was curious if the changes went so far as a salesgirl I’d probably only encountered once, and I figured I was the only one with the right to call up this scene, so I tried, “Show me Amy fitting me with a bra.”

This got Amy’s view of that scene, which did include topless moments with my girl body.

“Dang, Thomasina! You know what you’re doing to me!” Dad exclaimed

“I’ll be glad to do something about that if you want,” Sandra suggested in a sultry tone.

Nothing happened right away, but Dad left the table a few minutes later, at the end of that scene, and Sandra followed, and didn’t come back for half an hour, I assumed they were getting it on somewhere else in my house; I had no shortage of beds. Sydney was able to keep the ritual going without them, so in the meantime, I played some more scenes that showed the girl me with Cindy this year from the viewpoints of our college friends.

When Dad and Sandra came back together, I heard the end of their conversation, which left me unsure whether they had fucked or only talked.

Sandra said, “There’s nothing at all wrong with it, as long as you don’t act on those desires. Many men appreciate their teenage daughters so.”

Dad requested a couple more scenes, and then, since it was quite late, I asked everybody but Cindy to leave.

Once they had done so, I said, “It’s still date night, and we can if you want to.”

“I didn’t bring the strap-on this time. But we have other ways.”

We stripped and did those other ways for a while, then we cuddled and kissed before falling asleep in bed together.

Chapter 10: Hand-Me-Downs

Saturday, May 10, 2008

It was an unfamiliar experience waking up in bed with somebody. Cindy and I had not been doing that, and Jeannie and Tom never had either. It probably never happened in my dates’ revised histories, either, since it seemed like Jeannie and I were together less and I was even less serious with my other dates. Cindy and I didn’t intend to, but it was pretty late when we started and it just happened. Cindy was already awake when I woke up, and when she saw I was awake, after saying “Good morning,” she hurriedly got out of bed and went to the bathroom.

She had left the door open, which invited me to see her nakedness sitting on the toilet, peeing, and when she was done, she invited me to do the same while she started the shower. By the time I was done, the shower was adjusted to a good temperature, and Cindy invited me to shower with her. That we had done before, but at the end of the night, not the start of a day.

Cindy got dressed in the same clothes she arrived in, not having any others here, and we had breakfast.

“I don’t know if I am going to be staying the night here more times, but I either need to bring a change of clothes with me, or bring some spare clothes to leave over here if I do.”

“Actually, maybe you can wear some of Sally’s clothes. The witches found a lot which fit me, but there are a bunch more up there which were different sizes.”

“Hmm. Maybe so. I didn’t really want to ask for her hand-me-downs, but as a way to have clean clothes to leave here in, it might not be too bad.”

“All three bedrooms on the second floor have some of her clothes. And here’s some sizing info.”

“What’s all this?”

“When they went through Sally’s clothes, they found clothes fitting women of four different sizes. This one we think was the original Sally. This was with the device she used to make her more sexually attractive, which she used continuously when she was dating and married to my Dad. This was when she was using a spell that made her all-around smaller, and this was when she was using a spell that made her all-around larger.”

“Well I think original Sally is probably closest to me. Some of small Sally’s clothes might also fit me. Those other two, no way.”

“Those two are mixed together in the bedroom directly above mine. Unfortunately, I sold half the small Sally clothes at the yard sale I had shortly after moving here just to clear out some space, before I learned I was secretly a girl all along, and I kept most of the remaining shorts and skirts as a fit for me, but a bunch of her blouses and dresses, and some long pants are up there.”

When we were done with breakfast, she tugged at my arm to come with her and we played dress-up on her. In fact, most of the things in that room fit her. This went on after a break for lunch, well into the afternoon. She moved the things that didn’t fit her into another bedroom.

“OK, this is pretty crazy, Thomasina. You actually have more clothes here that fit me than I own,” Cindy said. We both laughed.

“There were actually some really nice clothes here, dresses you’d pay several hundred dollars for new, but Sally’s three friends helped me sell them. But it was too much work to try to sell off all the ordinary clothes, so they just stayed here.”

“Hey, remember, I’m not asking for hand-me-downs, just asking for a change of clothes.”

So I ignored that she’d sorted out all the potential hand-me-downs from everything else, and I also decided not to mention that a few of the nice dresses were still unsold at the consignment shop. Cindy chose an outfit and bundled her used clothes.

“I’ll take these home, and return your borrowed clothes later. But right now,” she said. “Now I want to take you to go get some sex toys so I don’t always have to bring mine over here on our dates.”

“Where do you get something like that?”

“Oh, there’s a little store in that shopping center across from the mall.”

She led me there, and even though I had gone through this area, it wasn’t one I frequented, and I hadn’t noticed the store. It was hidden among a bunch of women’s clothing and shoe stores.

“This is so hidden away. How do people find this place?”

“I think it mainly draws in women who shop at nearby stores,” Cindy replied. “After all, while there are some sex toys for men, most of this stuff is used by women.”

“Do they ever stock sex toys in the clothing stores?”

“Sometimes, but it’s a pretty limited selection. The generic ‘massagers’ which aren’t dildos are available in almost every store devoted to women’s things, and sometimes you find one or two of the ones which are dildos. Just enough to satisfy somebody who’s afraid to enter the sex toy shop, or to be seen entering it.”

The store we were in had a much wider selection. And it went beyond things to stick in a vagina or to stick your dick in. The most fascinating to me were the edibles. Edible body paint, edible panties, edible condoms.

After a while I lost my fascination over the inventory and got around to actually shopping for what Cindy and I were there for.

We left with two new strap-ons and a couple vibrators. After we went back to my place, we ate lunch, and just kissed goodbye before Cindy left, carrying the bundle of her worn clothes.

Back at my house, Cindy picked up her used clothes and went home. We considered hanging out even longer, but she wanted to make sure the other girls she lived with knew she hadn’t been murdered or something.

Friday, May 23, 2008

As classes ended for the spring, and along with that Cindy’s dorm room lease, she agreed to move in with me. We enjoyed being together, I had plenty of space, and she’d be able to help with the bills, making it even cheaper for both of us. There was already a bedroom full of clothes that fit her, so that one was by default hers.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Since I’d mentioned to Cindy the device that had turned Sally into Frieda, she insisted on seeing it in operation. Since I realized I’d never used it as a girl, I decided to try it out for her. So I put it in.

Cindy’s reaction was, “You can never, ever, ever, ever use that thing where any man can see you!”

It had turned my body from “hotter than hers,” as she had once told me, into supermodel-hot, and I realized that indeed I wasn’t ready for that.

I let Cindy try it, and we agreed, looking at our naked bodies in a mirror together, that it gave her a body comparable to mine. We had sex that way, but Cindy said she still felt like a fake for doing so, and asked me to get rid of the device to remove our temptation.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

Cindy had dreaded trying to bring her parents up-to-date on me, because, at least in the original history, she didn’t think they’d approve of her having a Lesbian relationship. She had never said anything to them about me turning into a girl, and hadn’t mentioned me at all since the curse broke. But she also could not leave them not knowing, so she called them today. When she told them she was moving in with “Tom” in this big house of mine which had spare bedrooms, they said they’d “love to come visit Thomasina.”

“Well, of course, Cindy. You never told them about Thomasina, so the curse breaking affected them the same way it affected everybody else in our lives who didn’t know. Now, to them, I’ve always been Thomasina.”

“But I told them from shortly after we met that I was dating Tom. Do you think I did the same for Thomasina?”

“There’s one way to find out.”

Saturday, May 31, 2008

Cindy’s parents’ reaction was enough to get me to bring the three witches and telepath back over to have another session to see how Cindy had broken the news to her parents in the new history. She had in fact told them pretty early on. And while her father had strongly disapproved, at first, her mother had convinced him that it was good she was having any kind of relationship at all, and in the months since then, he’d come to not just accept but actually support our Lesbian pairing.

Once we were done and that group had left, I asked, “You never really dated much at all before me, did you, Cindy?”

“No. I was afraid.”

“How many guys did you turn down in that half-year you were here before we met?”

“Five or six. And I actually did go on dates with two of them, who were both too touchy-feely and clearly looking for nothing but sex. You were so sweet.”

“Well thanks. How did you even end up going to the hookup party?”

“I didn’t know! I was told it was a way to find a nice, caring man. And then, well, it turned out like that. But seeing so many couples get together the night of the party, and all of them running off, I assumed to have sex somewhere, made me wonder if I was missing out on something.”

“So that’s why you brought up the subject of sex when we were walking.”

“Yeah. You were the first guy I was with who wasn’t just trying to get into my pants. But the girl who invited me was right. Once the ones who just wanted quick sex ran off, I really did find a nice, caring man. Even if he turned out to be a girl in a guy’s shell.”

“I’m really glad it worked out, especially how that never happened now in the memories of anybody else but us.”

Cindy laughed and then came to me for a kiss.

Chapter 11: Epilogue

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Cindy’s parents came and stayed here for a whole week in June, using one of the otherwise unused bedrooms. At some point, we revealed to them the whole story of the curse, witches, and all.

“So you actually thought you’d found a boy?” her father asked.

“Yes. I even had sex with him as a boy several times!”

“And then this thing happened, and you ended up with a girl.”

“But I was already committed to him, or her, and it only brought us closer together.”

“Well, I already accepted it, however it happened. I’m glad you’re happy.”

Friday, June 13, 2008

Cindy’s parents didn’t bring that up again. But as they were getting ready to leave, her mother asked, “Just promise to invite us to your wedding, whenever same-sex marriage becomes legal here. Or you can just cross the border into Massachusetts.”

And her father added, “Or you can come get married with us. They just made it legal in California, you know.”

I answered, “You know, we’re not engaged yet.”

Her father asked, “Why not?”

“We’ve only been dating for 5 months,” I replied.

“But you’re living together.”

“In different bedrooms in the same house.”

Her father laughed, “Well, I’m happy for you.”

Friday, June 20, 2008

I contrived a walk with Cindy to go past a jewelry store, where I stopped and proposed to her.

Cindy had a huge grin on her face. “How much are you saying that because of my father’s urgings, and how much because you really love me?”

“It’s a little because of your father,” I admitted. “But he made me realize our experience has already bonded us together. I could never leave you now.”

“Oh, Thomasina! I feel that way too! Yes, yes, yes!”

We hugged and kissed for a while.

“I assume you stopped here because you haven’t actually bought the ring yet. Can you afford it?”

“Yeah, it’s not going to be a problem now. Remember that device you made me get rid of?”

Cindy nodded.

“The witches told me it was worth more than all the other magic stuff Sally had put together.”

“I hadn’t actually thought about how much it might be worth, to the right person. But it makes sense. If it could give you a supermodel body, imagine how much somebody who actually wanted to be a supermodel would pay for it!”

“They sold it through an auction house. I got to keep a greater share of the money than I would at the consignment shop, and they probably weren’t prepared to sell an item worth over half a million dollars.”

Cindy squealed with excitement.

“After their cut, and a bit set aside to pay the taxes, I’m getting almost 300 grand. Not set for life, but certainly enough to afford a couple rings.”

“A couple... oh, we’re both women, so I guess we should both wear engagement rings.”

“That was my thinking. I’m not sure how it’s supposed to be for Lesbian couples, but Lesbians even having the possibility of getting married is a new thing anyway. We can write our own traditions!”

We took a photo of us together, showing off our matching rings, and emailed it to both our families, the witches, Scarlett, and a few other school friends as an announcement.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

As the summer went on, we invited Dad over a lot, too. He was now able to tell us stories of many occasions where I thought he hated me and was trying to ignore me, when in fact the curse was preventing him from saying something he really wanted to say to me. Any kind of comment like “I don’t care that you’re not a manly man” was blocked by the curse as if he’d been trying to tell me that I wasn’t a man, which made the times he talked with me about manly things seem to me like that was all he cared about.

“You know, I’m not going to be able to afford a lot to help pay for a big wedding for you two,” he said today.

“Oh, we’re not going to have a big wedding. We still can’t get married here officially anyway, so it might be a while, but at least people aren’t trying to prohibit it here forever like they are in some states. Cindy’s parents invited us to get married with them in California, and if it takes too long we might do that, but we’re going to at least wait until we finish college. And I got some money out of selling Sally’s magical stuff. We’re still going to have to work, but it will easily pay for our wedding.”

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Jen called us today, one day after New Hampshire had made same-sex marriages legal. At least, after they had passed a law for it; it wasn’t going to take effect until the first of the year.

“I just wanted to let you two know I’m going into the business of marrying people. There’s probably going to be a rush of same-sex marriages here in January when the new law takes effect, so I’m becoming a reverend to perform some of those marriages.”

“A witch is becoming a reverend?” I asked.

“Well, in those churches that accept same-sex marriage, they pretty much take anybody.”

We all laughed.

Jen went on, “Anyway, as close friends, there won’t be any charge for my services when you get married, if it’s around here. You’ll still have to pay for other parts of the wedding, but my services as reverend will be free.”

“Thanks, Jen. We haven’t started planning yet but we’ll let you know.”

Saturday, May 29, 2010

We weren’t too surprised to learn in April that Dad and Sandra were getting married. They had gotten it on that time they left the table during the seance-like ritual in which we saw various people’s memories of Thomasina, including briefly seeing my naked boobs through the eyes of Amy, the bra salesgirl. And they didn’t talk about it much, but I did know they had been dating.

The ceremony was held at Jen’s wedding hall. June was fully booked, but this date right after classes ended was perfect for me and Cindy, and we also invited Scarlett and her girlfriend. Dad had a couple dozen other friends there, and Sandra had about 50.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

What Cindy and I had ultimately decided made sense was to get married the day after graduation, on the anniversary of Dad’s wedding to Sandra. The guest list was only our seance group, Dad, Cindy’s parents, and Scarlett and 9 other students and their spouses or committed partners. I did invite Jeannie, who declined, and Brad, who was a little confused since in this history he had not invited me to his party or any other event, but at least he remembered me and, still living in town, he chose to come.

By having it then, the students were able to plan to still be around for it before leaving for the summer. We had to borrow a few chairs but we were able to set up our living room to hold the ceremony, and Cindy’s parents stayed the weekend in one of our spare bedrooms so that they could also attend the graduation.

Cindy was able to buy a wedding dress off the rack, just needing alterations, but as I knew, I had to have one custom made. That let me go non-traditional. We had decided that rather than have two brides both in white, that I’d have a red wedding dress to provide contrast. It invited comparisons to the White Queen and Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland, but I didn’t really care if some people saw me as the Red Queen. Of course, it was a terrible comparison: Those queens didn’t marry each other!

We didn’t have traditional bridesmaids; the wedding party was just Cindy’s parents on her side and Dad and Sandra on mine, with Sandra also wearing red, Cindy’s mom in off-white, and both men in standard black-and-white tuxes. The march down the aisle was just from our front door.

So we said our vows in front of those close friends who could appreciate seeing two young women get married to each other, in the house we called our home.

The reception was in the front yard, where caterers had set up a meal for us during the ceremony. Hey, I did pay for some part of this event! Then it was back inside for the dancing. And then gifts.

Clara had told me in advance that me she got me a magical gift, so I could either explain my story to all the guests, or open it privately, later. Cindy and I agreed to open up to this group of friends (and I would have done so with Jeannie, had she come). So before the gifts, I spoke to the group, explaining a brief version of my story.

“The students among you don’t know it, but I have a weird history. There is magic in my family on my mother’s side, and I was born under a curse which made me male. My mother died during my freshman year, and a few months later the curse unraveled. Some of the guests here are witches who helped me through that time, including disassembling the collapsing curse safely and helping me learn how to be female after growing up for 19 years male.”

There were a lot of shocked reactions and some disbelief among the guests, and I paused to let the consequences sink in.

“The curse was designed not to leave me hanging when it broke, by changing records and memories so that, except for the few people who already knew about it, everybody remembered me as always having been female. Brad, you were invited because, in the true history which has been erased from your memory, you invited me to the party where I met Cindy.”

Not everybody here was in on that party, so I didn’t go into detail about it.

“In the revised history, you didn’t even invite me to your party. It was Cindy’s roommate Scarlett who introduced us. And the rest of you are our supportive friends, some of whom were our friends in the original history and some only after I became female, but you accepted what became a Lesbian relationship after the curse broke. I’m telling you all this because Clara, one of the witches, has told me she got me a magical gift, and it was either tell you all or open it privately.”

I found the small box for her gift and opened it. There was a small card inside an otherwise empty box.

“One maleness chamber. That’s all it says, so Clara, I hope you can explain.”

“When we were pulling apart the unraveling curse, I set up a magic trap. All the bits of magic that were being flung loose, except that nasty one that fought us, were sucked into it like a magical vacuum. I did it for safety, but now I know how to recombine just the parts that made you male to make a version of the spell that would stick to a location rather than to you. Don’t worry, it’s not in the box. I have to cast it for you. It’ll be tuned to you, and it will only turn you male in a specific location, so if you and Cindy want to have kids someday, you can actually have your own kids instead of adopting or getting a sperm donor, as long as Cindy is willing to be the mother.”

I was stunned. “Thank you, very, very much, Clara. I could not have imagined getting such a gift!”

Cindy responded, “That’s amazing, Clara. I do want to have kids someday, though I am not ready yet, so I expect your gift to actually get used, eventually.”

Jen’s gift was also a mostly empty box that only held a small amount of paper. I opened it to find job offers for me and Cindy.

She explained, “Since I opened the wedding service, Sandra and Clara have been helping me run it. It’s been a full time job for them both, though, and I paid them as proper employees. But they want to move on. Sandra wants to retire, both from magic and weddings, and live with her husband, and Clara wants to get back to doing magic. So I have two job openings, and I heard that you’ve not been very successful finding work. It’s not grunt work. It’s just everything. Bills, paying and receiving. Advertising. Scheduling. Invitations; those are very important, and important to get just right.”

Cindy replied, “This is wonderful, Jen. I think Thomasina and I will have to talk it over in private, but I will certainly consider it.”

“Me too. Thanks, Jen.”

Next was Sandra’s gift. Cindy opened the box, and we both went red-faced and she closed the box.

“I think we can show them, Cindy. They’re college students; they know what they are and most of them probably have one or their girlfriends do.”

“I guess.”

Cindy opened the box fully and showed the group our two dildos, which caused a lot of laughter.

“Are they magical?” she asked Sandra.

“Yes. They are vibrators and you’ll be able to control their intensity with your minds.”

The other guests had gotten us normal gifts, though Scarlett’s was two negligees.

Pretty soon the student guests and Sydney all left, Cindy’s parents went to the room they were staying in, and Dad and Sandra to the other vacant bedroom. The caterers cleaned up the trash and the outdoor seating, and Jen and Clara helped put my living room back in order.

Clara said, “Cindy, if it’s all right with you, Jen and I would like to sleep in your bedroom tonight. I expect you want to sleep with your wife, so it should be free. That will allow us all to get a good night’s sleep before I cast this spell tomorrow, with Jen and Sandra’s help.”

“Oh, of course!” she replied.

Monday, May 30, 2011

We had time for everybody to eat breakfast, but Cindy’s parents went to the airport, and Dad went home, so it was just the two of us with the three witches.

Clara explained, “The way this spell is going to be fixed in place is that those filaments are still stuck in the magic trap I cast during the curse removal. I never actually removed them; I only turned off the trap so it stopped sucking in more magic. So it’s going to be down in that corner of your subbasement.”

“Well, that will make using it more difficult, but it will also mean I won’t fall into it by accident.”

So they all went down there one-by-one, each carrying components for the spell. They didn’t actually need me and Cindy down there, so I just let them be.

“You know, it’s silly that I still maintain a separate bedroom from you,” Cindy said. “We sleep together more than not anyway.”

“Let’s move in together in my bedroom once this is through. We each only wear a small portion of the clothes we got from Sally, so we can move just the clothes that we wear into that room, use one other bedroom each as overflow, and leave the last one empty. And lets finally donate all those clothes neither of us can wear.”

“That sounds good. Hey, how are we going to get a bed down into the subbasement?”

“A bed? Oh, for sex.”

Cindy grinned lasciviously.

“Maybe a futon,” I suggested. “Fold the mattress in half to fit it down the elevator. Take the frame down in pieces and assemble it down there.”

“That could work. We’d have to buy one, but they aren’t that expensive.”

Around 11 Jen came up and told me Clara was ready for me to test the maleness chamber. So I went down, followed by Cindy.

“I don’t have to be naked, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s going to give you the male body from the curse, so make sure you’re wearing something that will work for that body.”

Just to be safe, I stripped down to my sports bra and panties. Then I walked in and my male body was back. Stepped out, female.

“Cindy, come on in here with me to make sure it only affects me.”

She came in with me and was seemingly unaffected. But I put one hand under her skirt and groped her, as I said, “Gotta make sure.”

Cindy giggled, and pretended to push my arm away for a moment before grabbing it and shoving it further beneath her. After a bit of these antics, we stopped playing around and both walked out of the marked area.

“Thank you very much, Clara. It seems to work perfectly.”

We all filed out of the subbasement one-by-one, and the witches gathered up their things to leave.

“Oh, Jen, just one more thing,” I said. “Cindy and I talked over the job offers last night and we think it’s a good idea. So just let us know when you want us to start.”

Kudos

Comments

Suspending reality a bit

seems like the best way to get through this entertaining story. Interesting plot and characters.

That's probably a good

That's probably a good strategy for all my stories. Though I appreciate "Holly ... / Plucked her eyebrows on the way / Shaved her legs and then he was a she" from "Walk on the Wild Side" for what it is, it's not the kind of thing that's likely to appear in my stories. Maybe ... if it was a magic razor that makes her female inside and out!

Willing suspense of disbelief

If you're going to read sf, fantasy, or urban fantasy, you need the willing suspense of disbelief.

Magic Blanket

Chapter 1: Boom

Chapter 2: The Party

Chapter 3: The Aftermath

Chapter 4: Finding Sally’s Secrets

Chapter 5: Telling Cindy

Chapter 6: Unraveling

Chapter 7: Girl Lessons

Chapter 8: Living as Thomasina

Chapter 9: New History

Chapter 10: Hand-Me-Downs

Chapter 11: Epilogue

Comments

Suspending reality a bit

That's probably a good

Willing suspense of disbelief

More like this

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Chapter 1: Boom

Chapter 2: The Party

Chapter 3: The Aftermath

Chapter 4: Finding Sally’s Secrets

Chapter 5: Telling Cindy

Chapter 6: Unraveling

Chapter 7: Girl Lessons

Chapter 8: Living as Thomasina

Chapter 9: New History

Chapter 10: Hand-Me-Downs

Chapter 11: Epilogue

Comments

More like this

Story Stats

The Hatbox

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Resource Hotline

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