I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
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I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
Prologue
Snrxl was working on the integration plan when Vrall walked into his office. "How goes the big plan?"
"Just finishing up."
He closed his eyes and completed the plan. The thinking cap dutifully transcribed his thoughts to the document. He closed the file, removed the helmet, and focused on his associate.
"You know, an implant is a whole lot more convenient than that cumbersome old helmet."
"I know, but sticking something into my brain that might be accessed by someone else makes me extremely nervous."
"Nobody has ever succeeded in gaining unauthorized access to an implant."
"Call me paranoid, but there is always a first time."
It was a well-rehearsed conversation. Snrxl was well-known for his eccentricity, but even better known for his talent. His deep insight into the common psychology of all sapient beings, as well as their inevitable differences, made his integration plans unfailingly effective.
Vrall closed her eyes and read the highlights of the plan through her implant. When she finished, she looked over at Snrxl. "Some people say that you have a wicked sense of humor that is sure to cause the subjects to hate you, while others say that you are way too kind to the subjects."
"What do you believe?"
"I believe that they are totally missing the point. Your plans always result in subjects that are tearfully grateful to have been chosen, and who grow very quickly without the excess pain that so many think is necessary for growth."
"Growth comes from trials and challenges, not necessarily pain. Pain motivates, but so does a goal."
"But pain is necessary for the development of compassion."
"Indeed, but it isn't necessary to create pain on purpose. Pain is inevitable, no matter how much one may try to reduce or eliminate it. That's especially true on a primitive world."
Part One: Adaptation
Day 1;
Thursday, April 1, 2021:
This is so messed up. I'm trying to type, but the keyboard is too big. I had to raise the seat just to try to get a comfortable typing position.
But that's just the least of it. My whole world has been turned upside-down. My relationships have been fundamentally changed. Who am I? How did this happen? Why did it happen? I don't know who is going to read this journal. Will we keep it a secret? Will it become part of some history book? I have no idea right now.
I guess I'll have to start from the beginning.
Last night, Jan and I went to bed last night as usual. We were both too tired to do anything but fall asleep. We made a point to set some time aside this weekend.
Morning came, and I felt more rested than I have for quite some time. Not only did I feel like I had slept myself out, but I somehow felt lighter. It's hard to explain. It's like the feeling you get when you have been backpacking all day, then you take the backpack off and feel like you can walk on air. I was ready to spring right out of bed and start my day.
Then I opened my eyes. There was hair in my face. I unconsciously brushed it aside. The hand in front of my face wasn't mine.
I haven't had long hair since I was a kid, and it never was this long, or this blond. This is some kind of an April fool joke, right? Someone must have put a blond wig on me when I was sleeping.
I cautiously drew back the covers. This body isn't mine. Why do I look like a kid now? Wait a minute! Something is missing. Being changed into a child is one thing, but being changed into a girl?
OK, calm down, calm down. It's not the end of the world.
Somehow, I was calm. Maybe it had to to with the lack of testosterone. Not much estrogen, either, I would guess. Jan tells me that I appear to be around nine or ten years old -- just in time for puberty. Oh joy. Time for all those hormones to start flowing through an unprepared body. Time for something else to start flowing, too. Yuck! I am so not looking forward to that.
Why do I just accept that I'm going to be staying this way? Perhaps because there is no evidence to the contrary.
Anyhow, not be getting ahead of myself...
Confused. The woman that I love is sleeping next to me. I want hugs. I want cuddles. Somehow, the desire for sex is there, but it's not there. The memory draws me to want it, but this new body is giving me no urgency. I guess that's OK, since this body isn't going to be doing it. I want my old body, flawed as it is, back.
Oh God, what is happening? Why is it happening? What's going to happen to my marriage?
I have always envied the fact that Jan gets answers to her prayers. All I have ever gotten are vague notions that might be answers. Or, they might just be wishful thinking. Our pastor always said that when God talks to you, it's a thought in your head that you didn't think. Sometimes, you can tell because the thought is something that you don't want to think. But this time, I was more certain. I knew that God was speaking to my heart. Maybe it's a girl thing. Maybe girls listen better to their hearts.
Have you ever been hugged by God? That's what it felt like. At that moment, I really needed a hug.
The idea of being so close to the being that made the entire world, made this entire vast universe, as a matter of fact, goes beyond frightening. Yet somehow, all that strength was comforting this time. Maybe it's a girl thing. Maybe it's a child thing. God, I'm so confused. Who am I now?
The answers were there, though unspoken. I am God's beloved child. In the kingdom of God, there is no man or woman, no slave or free. Nothing has changed there. I lost thirty years. Or, maybe I have gained thirty years. Nothing changed there, either. What's thirty years compared to eternity?
But what about my relationships? What about my marriage? What about our kids?
There are changes there. Changes for the better. I know for certain that Jan and I are still married. Christian marriage is of the spirit, not just the body. The body issues will be taken care of in the fullness of time.
"Do not worry, my child."
Day 2;
Friday, April 2, 2021:
I wake up next to Jan. I was the first one up again. That's a novel experience.
She purred as I stroked her back. Then, she woke with a start. Crap...
I got up and showered. That was an interesting experience. After that, Jan gave me my first lesson in feminine hygiene. I won't go into detail.
I put on some clothes that Jan had dug up from somewhere around the house. The boy's underwear didn't fit properly, but what choice do I have? Jan is, or was, the only girl in the house. Maybe that's why most of the pets that she gets are girls. She feels out-numbered.
Ever since I hit puberty (the first time), I had developed a technique for pulling up my socks in such a way that they don't push my leg hair up backward. It's uncomfortable to be rubbed the wrong way. I did that out of habit today. What am I doing? I pulled my other sock straight up. No hair, no fuss.
Today, it was easier to get the kids off to school. Our cover story is in place. Do you know how hard it is to craft a cover story that contains no lies, yet still hides the part of the truth that you want hidden?
Joseph Martin Jeblonski (Dad) has to leave for a while. He can't say where he is, but he can be reached by email or chat. No voice; just text. Tiffany is staying with us for a while. We don't know how long. We need to empty out one of the bedrooms that is currently being used for storage.
Why did Jan choose such a cutesy name like Tiffany?
Now, I have some work to do. Or, rather, Joe has some work to do. I wonder if I can still sling the code. Can this ten year old brain do the job? For that matter, could my old forty-one year old brain do the job with all this crap going on?
But first, I have to find some things out.
Being a long-time fan of science fiction, the idea of body transformations is not new to me. Still, there are many variations on the theme. Obviously, there is no known technology that will do this. There are a number of theoretical possibilities, though. If some change was made to the time stream, I would expect that nobody, not even me, would remember anything about it. Or, if it somehow happened with myself and my family outside the normal time stream, we would remember it, but nobody else would.
There are no photo albums with pictures of me as a girl. There are no people on the web or in my family that remember me as Tiffany. Joe Jeblonski seems to exist in this world, and there is no trace of Tiffany.
There is no reason to get into the mythology of were creatures. Anyhow, I'm not at all bothered by bright light, silver, or anything like that. That leaves the actually moving of my 'consciousness' to another body, or the transformation of my body itself (so where did the extra mass go?)
That's about as far as I can speculate. What if you gave Sir Isaac Newton or Leonardo Da Vinci a modern computer? They could probably learn how to use it relatively quickly, but it would take years of schooling for them to get any real concept of how it works. Of course, most modern people have no concept of how it works. Most people wouldn't know an inverter from a flip-flop.
But what about me? Where is the division between spirit and flesh; between the physical brain and the mind that inhabits it? If that wet gray thing is changed, am I still me?
The answer is yes. I know that. Why should I doubt? The brain is just part of the 'Earth Suit' that we all have to wear for as long as we are on Earth. When we leave this Earth, the old body is left behind and we get a new one.
But, I had to do some testing. Out of curiosity, I went surfing on some of the seedier parts of the web. They have things for all tastes there. To my great relief, the disgusting things are still disgusting. I'm not attracted to the male form. The things that used to compel or tempt don't pull my strings nearly as much.
I should leave that stuff alone. I haven't reached puberty yet, anyhow. All my age-mates are in the 'boys are icky' or 'girls are icky' stage right now. I guess anything I feel now about it is based on my past experience, not what this flesh is telling me that I should think or feel about it. That is probably a blessing.
Anyhow, I have more important things to think about. I have lots of work on my plate. I lost an entire day worrying about something that doesn't much matter. Onward to the coal mines.
Let's see... Mudslinger 4WD auto supply needs yet another sales report. They want some statistical information about purchases based on weather. What the heck is that? Where am I going to get past weather information all bundled up in a nice database?
I was soon lost in the project. A web search yielded some nice sites that display past weather reports. It was no big deal to write a program that parses the raw HTML and stuffs the results into a table. It took a while, but it was no big deal. I love this kind of stuff. I'm glad I still love it.
Next, I wrote some queries that compare the weather data with their sales history. That one took a while, and it's quite the work of art. That is, if you're a computer nerd, it's a work of art. I looked through the results of the query. Well I'll be a... There is some correlation. It isn't surprising that snow tires sell better in the fall and winter, but it's interesting that they sell more motor oil right after a long period of rain. This ought to give them plenty of data to munch on for a while. I guess the goal is for them to be able to predict what they will be selling next week and next month. Heaven forbid they order a single dollar's worth of stuff that they won't be selling right away.
But that isn't all there is to it. After the creativity comes the details. Luckily, it's OK to plagiarize your own code. I created a new menu item for the report and copied an older report that's quite similar. With all the little details already written, it is easier to modify an existing report than to create a whole new report. It also saves on testing time because you're starting with code that already runs.
So let's see... add the new tables to the application's database, add a block of code that automatically downloads, converts, and stores weather data, replace the old query with my new query, modify the report form, and test.
Good! Now all I need to do is write it up, bill it, and send it off. I hope they're happy.
Time to come up for air and break for lunch. I wonder what's in the fridge. Let's see... some tuna sandwich stuff, and some juice. We're almost out of bread. I guess I should throw some ingredients into the bread maker.
I had a hard time reaching most of the ingredients. I had to grab a chair to get the flour. It took longer than usual, but I did manage to get everything into the bread machine.
OK, now back to the task at hand. Cutting two slices off of what was left of the bread proved to be clumsy. The knife is too big and the counter is too high. It's a good thing I didn't cut myself.
So, sandwich in hand, I walked to the door and looked out. It looks chilly. I grabbed a light jacket and walked out the door. It was my oldest son's jacket. It was too big.
The long winter is over. I can't help but smile as a cool spring breeze caresses my face. After the long months of frigid temperatures, it almost feels like summer. There is a faint hint of green peeking up among the brown remains of last year's vegetation. The lawn is vibrant. The pasture has a definite green tinge. The barnyard is still muddy. I have to pull on a pair of my oldest son's muck boots. They were loose. I added a few pairs of thick socks.
I walked out to the coop to check on the chickens. Yep, plenty of water, and the food hopper is almost full. I shared some of my crust with them. It always cheers me when they gather around to beg for food. I tossed them some scratch grain.
If I'm going to take a walk, I might as well walk out past the horse pasture and make sure that there is plenty of clean water in the trough.
The horses have always been Jan's thing. Of course, she managed to infect the kids with her obsession. I liked them well enough, but I never learned to ride. If I want animal companionship, it's hard to beat a cat or dog. If I want to ride somewhere, a car, Jeep, tractor, ute, or quad works well.
Yep, the watering trough is low, and the water is murky. I pulled the plug. The horses came over when they heard the water gurgling out of the trough. I ignored them and used the hose to rinse the sediment down the drain hole. After replacing the plug and sticking the hose into the trough, I looked up -- right into the face of Jan's haflinger mare.
It was love at first sight. I want a horse. I need a horse. All those visions of riding off and having adventures with my trusty steed went swimming through my brain. I had to shake my head to clear my thoughts.
Actually, it wasn't really 'first sight'. I had seen Tina many times before. It's just that I have never looked at her quite that way. Why was I thrown off balance by a silly horse? I really need to get a grip. It's not as if Tina is some magical unicorn or something like that. She's a haflinger that Jan got cut-rate from a couple of old ladies. Jan chose her because she was inexpensive, and because haflingers are known for their easy-going disposition. Also, they are a bit smaller than your normal horse. A haflinger is somewhere between a horse and a pony in height (maybe 50-55 inches at the shoulder), but sturdy and wide. I never got into the riding thing because I didn't expect any of Jan's horses to be able to carry my weight. I guess that isn't an issue any more.
But I really need to get a grip. I can't go falling for a bunch of animals like some little girl making doe eyes at all the ponies at the fair and begging mommy for one.
I cut across the pasture and out to the back woods. Tina followed me. I guess she likes me or something.
* * * * *
Interlude
"It looks like you have been messing with her mind, Snrxl."
He grinned as he turned to Vrall. "I never claimed otherwise. It is authorized when doing integrations, after all."
"But Joe used to do his best to ignore the horses. Now, it appears that you have made Tiffany fall in love with them."
"The change isn't nearly as big as you think. In fact, it's very minor, and actually serves to bring her more in tune with who she really is."
Snrxl brought up the diagrams of all of the changes made to the brains of the Jeblonski family. All of them had some minor malfunctions and and shortcomings that were fixed without any need for discussion -- things like nervous habits, obsessive-compulsive tendencies, depressive tendencies, and minor processing errors. Joe's problems were fixed when he became Tiffany, while the others are being slowly changed. Snrxl touched a few keys and those changes left the display, leaving only the changes made to the paired brains of Joe and Tiffany.
The brains are identical, except that Tiffany's brain is female, and therefore has some distinctly different neural pathways. In addition, a few 'acquired habits' that would be expected of a female in that culture were added. Tiffany is as female as can be from head to toe. The only male part is Joe's soul, along with four decades of male memories.
Snrxl showed those changes to Vrall, then made them wink out. What was left were minor changes designed to help Tiffany adapt to her new position in the family. Mostly, they have to do with the feelings that are associated with certain images and thoughts. When Tiffany sees Jan's face, the feelings invoked are more like 'mom' than 'wife'. Similarly, Joe's mom and dad become Tiffany's Grandma and Grandpa, and his brothers and sisters become her aunts and uncles. Tiffany knows better, but the feelings are inserted to help Tiffany relate properly without having to give the matter much thought. Also, reciprocal changes were made in the brains of the people that interact with Tiffany. Jan feels like Tiffany is a beloved daughter. Snrxl made those changes leave the display, too.
"Joe has always had a soft spot for animals. Take a look at his emotional reaction to a cat."
The reaction definitely labels him as a cat lover. His reaction to the goats is similar, but toned down. Also, Joe chooses to keep them in the category of 'livestock', rather than 'pet/companion'.
"Now, look at his reaction to a horse." Snrxl pulled up the original data from Joe's initial scan. "He has always liked them, and was somewhat disappointed when Jan chose horses that were too small for him to ride. He therefore schooled himself to treat them much the way he treats the goats, and told himself that they are Jan's horses, and that he has no stake in them." Snrxl pulled up the changes that he made. They are actually very minor, and well within the bounds of the other changes that will help Tiffany be a female of that culture. He had moved the emotional reactions slightly in the direction of Joe's reactions to his cats, and added a little feeling of adventure to the mix. That way, when Tiffany looked at Jan's horse for the first time, the wall that Joe had been building between himself and his feelings for the horses came tumbling down. The final straw was when she realized that she could now ride these horses.
Vrall couldn't help but to smile at Snrxl's craftsmanship. He is nothing if not subtle.
* * * * *
When I was a kid, I used to go out to the woods whenever I needed to think. That might be why city life was slowly killing me a few years ago. I had no place to get away.
No more city life. Plenty of woods. Need to do lots of thinking.
I went through the back gate and into the woods. No, Tina, you can't come with me.
The woods have always been an almost sacred place to me. I have always loved the way the light filters down through the canopy. Whether the ground is springy and full of dried leaves, or lush and full of ferns, the forest calms my mind. Of course, this early in the spring, the ground is more mushy than springy. There is still snow in some of the lower spots, but the higher areas are almost dry. The trees are still barren, but the swollen buds hold the promise of new life.
I managed to find a dry log and sat down. What is this all about? It's not a curse. I can feel in my heart that it represents the beginning of a journey that will be a blessing to a lot of people.
But how did it happen? There is no technology on Earth that can accomplish this. At least, I don't know of any way of stuffing someone's soul into a new body. Someone or something is behind this. What is their purpose? What am I supposed to be doing? Until we get more answers, we will just go along the way we have been going. We will have to create some kind of a 'Tiffany' identity, while keeping 'Joe' alive. Maybe, as Tiffany grows older, she can take over Joe's business. Of course, that's assuming that it's desirable for Joe to fade into the background.
I feel so abandoned and unsettled. I can't really make plans because I don't know what's going to happen to me.
Feeling abandoned is silly, of course. Jan is with me, and is supporting me every way that she can. Even without the ability to plan some aspects of my future life, there are still plenty of things to do that will work out well no matter what happens. I guess I should make two lists -- things that will help no matter what happens, and things that depend on whether or not I get to be Joe again. That would be a start, anyhow.
I was musing about how my feelings didn't really match the facts. As usual, I had put up a wall between myself and my feelings. That wall is sturdy and well-used, serving me well in all the stressful times of my life.
Suddenly, that wall came tumbling down. The feeling of profound loss overwhelmed me. I tried to fight it, but the tears came.
Then, I let it happen. Keeping your feelings boxed up is a bad idea, anyhow. The loss of control was appalling, but the cleansing tears needed to come. I just let them come and gave myself up to them.
After a while, the tears stopped coming. I felt cried out, and cleaned out. I looked about the budding forest with its promise of new life with a brand-new attitude. Whatever comes, I will make the best of it. This is a brand new opportunity, and I will thank God for the trials and the joys.
Well, time to go back. As I stood up, I felt a pressure in my bladder. I walked to a tree and unzipped...
Crap! This isn't going to work. I'm not going to make it the quarter mile or so to the house, either. It's a good thing there isn't anyone around to see. It's rather chilly out, though.
* * * * *
One of the nice things about being self-employed is that you can take a long lunch break if you need to. I really needed that long lunch break, but it's time to go back and sit in front of the computer again.
Next project: Great Lakes RV Rental wants another story added to their web site.
Wow! These are some nice pictures. It looks like this family had a great time taking the circle tour of Lake Superior.
Hmmm... Everyone in that family wrote a diary. I might just be able to do this without interviewing anyone.
I was soon lost in the process of telling their vacation story. They started near Mackinaw City, just south of the Mackinac bridge.
I closed my eyes and visualized that quaint little town. I have been there a number of times, and Jan and I spent part of our honeymoon there. Good memories, for sure. I sorted through the pictures of all the quaint shops and tourist traps. It seemed that every one of them sold Mackinac Island Fudge. Some, indeed, specialized in that local treat. They had some nice pictures of The Bridge, but no good night pictures. That's not surprising, since it's hard to get a good exposure that takes in just enough of the background, while getting the bridge lights just right. I pulled one from my voluminous collection and added it to the bill. I remember the night that Jan and I sat cuddling on a bench. I shot the better part of roll of film trying to get the exposure just right. Every once in a while, I would get up, fiddle with the camera, set the timer (so that the vibrations would settle down before the actual exposure was taken), and go back to sitting with my hunny on the bench. I wish I could have gotten a shot of Jan silhouetted against the night sky with her hair moving gently in the breeze, but there wasn't enough light for anything but totally still subjects.
Fort Michilimackinac is an old French fort turned British fort just south of the Straits of Mackinac. The view from the fort is quite different now, since the Mackinac Bridge's southern end is right next to the fort.
They took plenty of pictures of the reconstructed fort and the archaeological digs, so I didn't have to add any of my own pictures. They even got a good shot of the puff of black powder smoke coming out of the end of the musket as it was fired, and another of the cannon. They took a nice 'open road' picture as they drove north on I-75 up to Sault Ste Marie ("The Soo"). They toured the locks that let the boats travel between Lake Superior and lake Huron. They also took a boat tour through the locks. Jan and I have never done that. We'll have to try it next time we're up there. I wonder if I'll do it as Joe, or as Tiffany.
They headed west from there, traveling along the southern shore of Lake Superior. Again, I compared their pictures and diaries with my own memories. Water containing copper, manganese, iron, and organics runs down the cliffs and stains the Cambrian sandstone. Those rocky cliffs that have been beaten over the years by powerful Lake Superior have a rugged beauty that is set off perfectly by the crystal clear water below. A boat tour is a must. There is really no other way to appreciate it.
It's said that Lake Superior comes in two temperatures -- the temperature of liquid ice, and the temperature of solid ice. Still, there are some shallow bays that warm up quite nicely. The bay that they had found looked remarkably similar to the one that Jan and I had found so many years ago. Maybe it was the same one. According to their journals, the parents were sure that the kids wouldn't be in the water for long. They humored them and let them swim anyhow. Pretty soon, everyone was in the water splashing about. After that, they laid down in the light tan sand and soaked up some sun.
I could tell that I wasn't going to get this one done as quickly as I should. Time to concentrate.
I threw in a picture of picturesque L'anse, and a few more of the somewhat rugged landscape of the Keweenaw Peninsula. Someone took a nice picture of the whole family standing in the water at the very tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula I remember doing that as a kid. It was icy cold. I mean really icy.
They went to some agate beaches along the way. Searching for agates and other nice stones is a popular pass time in that area, especially among vacationers. They don't have a close-up lens on their camera, so I included some pictures that I had taken a number of years ago. One of my favorite stones is a brown conglomerate with red and blue sparkles in the mix.
They followed the coast through Wisconsin, on to Minnesota, and then up through Canada. They followed the shore of Lake Superior over to Thunder Bay, which sits near the center of the northern shore. They took a ferry from Thunder Bay over to Isle Royale. I have always wanted to go to Isle Royale National Park, but somehow never got around to it.
Then, they continued east along the north shore to the Soo, through customs again, and back into Michigan.
Whew! That looks like fun! I wonder what it would cost to rent an RV and do the circle tour ourselves. Hopefully, the people who read the story will feel the same way.
OK, time to send it off for changes and comments. Wow, I'm on a roll!
Next project... a device driver? Where did I end up with that one? Most device drivers are written in-house by the manufacturers.
Duh... how could I forget? Scott told me that he would be sending something unusual soon if he could wrangle it. It's been a long time since I have done any low-level coding, but this one looks simple enough. Just a stepper motor and a few strain gages
"Jo--Tiffany! Are you going to eat with the family?"
"Sorry, Jan! Just got immersed in the project, but think it's time to knock off for a while."
Dinner was quiet. How do I relate with my own boys? Am I still their father? What can I say to Jan in front of them? I guess we have to tell them what has happened -- and soon.
I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
Day 3;
Saturday, April 3, 2021:
On the third day of my spring vacation, I woke up... Still a girl.
At least I'm getting used to the idea now. I can look in a mirror without jumping in surprise. I took a good look at myself. It felt funny to do that. But, it is my own body, after all.
I really do look like my own daughter. The facial features and body shape are about the same, though feminized, more child-like, and bonier. My head is topped with fine candyfloss blond hair -- much blonder and longer than it ever was before. It hangs past my shoulders, but not quite to the middle of my back. I think I'll keep it that way.
I am more slender than I remember being at the age of ten or twelve. OK, what I really mean to say is that I look like Olive Oyl. It looks like I need to put some meat on my bones. There are a few tasks that are definitely more difficult in this body.
By the time I was ten the first time, I already had a fine collection of scars. I still have some of them. Or, rather, I had them until just three days ago. Now, even the big gash on my leg is gone. It's as if this body was built fresh and brand-new.
The first signs of puberty are definitely there. I wonder how much time I have before having to deal with that. Jan says that it can come any time now.
Well, at least I am somewhat prepared for it. I have been through puberty before, though I'm sure it will be quite different this time.
I really have mixed emotions about the situation. The fact that I can still do any mental activity that I could do before is a big help. The fact that I have more energy and don't have any of those minor nagging pains is a definite plus. In fact, it makes for a clearer mind. I was able to do the entire device driver project last night. I got to bed late, but that's par for the course.
Today, there is farm work to do. I got caught up with my projects, so now I can take care of some of the little projects that accumulate when there is snow on the ground.
But let me back up a bit and give you some history.
Four years ago, I got laid off from a high-paying job. It was kind of a blessing, though, because I was getting pretty burned out. Also, the city life was slowly killing me. Meanwhile, Janet O'Malley Jeblonski, MD, was getting antsy. We had both dreamed of moving out to the country for a long time, but our jobs kept us in the big city.
After some searching, she found a hospital that was looking for a neurologist. One day, we're stuck in the city. The next day, we're talking to real estate agents, going to interviews, and finally packing up.
So, here we are; living on sixty acres with woods, pasture, a creek, a pond, and no neighbors. The old barn is full of hay on top and animals on the bottom. The old six bedroom house that was built for a big farm family is just perfect for a professional couple and their three boys.
So Jan provides the steady money and the health insurance, while I do odd jobs and keep the farm going.
I started by doing the morning rounds. I topped off the watering trough. The round bale that the horses eat is almost gone. The chickens still have plenty of food. I tossed them some scratch grain as a treat. I love watching them gather around when I do that. I grabbed an egg bucket and went to the nest boxes. I found a few eggs on the floor, and some more in the goat manger. I saw Jan peeking out the window at me as I carried the eggs up to the house. A few minutes later, she drove off to work to do her rounds at the hospital. Today is a short day for her.
The goats were all hanging around the milking parlor. I don't know what they want more; the grain, or to be relieved of all that milk. It took a while to get the right rhythm going, but my smaller hands seem to be an asset when it comes to milking. That's especially true for Ginny Nube, the nubian. She's a good producer, but her teats are small and difficult to milk.
John, my oldest son, came out waving a pair of safety glasses. "Dad always makes us wear these when we are working on the equipment."
My regular prescription glasses have safety lenses, but I'm not wearing them. This body has 20/20 vision without correction. I thanked John for his thoughtfulness and put the glasses on. I had to climb a bit more to get on to the tractor. I had a hard time reaching the controls. It was difficult, but I still managed to stab the prongs into one of those six hundred pound bales of hay and drop it into the horse feeder.
Next, I grabbed the fence repair supplies, loaded them into the ute (sort of like a cross between a lawn tractor and a quad), and drove slowly around the fence. There were a few spots that needed repair, but nothing serious. I don't remember remember all this stuff being so heavy. I had to really pull hard to get enough tension on the fence. This all bears a striking resemblance to hard work.
By the time I was done driving around better than half a mile of fence line and fixing all the broken spots, I was exhausted. I think I'll go talk to Jan's pony. That'll make me feel better.
When Jan got home, she found me laid out on the couch. I got the work done, but it took all I had. In my old age (heh), I have learned to cut myself a little slack when it comes to physical labor. Proving something today often leads to being too sore tomorrow to get anything done. I guess I should have followed my own advice.
Day 4;
Sunday, April 4, 2021:
Still sleeping with Jan. What's the big deal with that? She is my wife, after all.
This is weird.
But now I have a nice bedroom set up next to Jan's room. I mean our room.
After getting back from her rounds at work, Jan fixed my room up and decorated it while I was out trying to get some farm work done, or trying to prove something, or trying to still be me, or something like that. It looks like she really enjoyed doing it. It's kind of girly for my taste, but I guess I'll have to get used to it.
I was freshly showered, dressed in a clean set of my oldest son's clothes, and lounging on the couch when Jan came down from the bedroom area. "You know, I think it's time you stopped wearing those boy clothes."
When the babysitter got here, Jan dragged me out to the car. I had quipped to her earlier about how she had always wanted a girl to dress up. I should have kept my mouth shut. I walked out my car and opened the driver side door.
This isn't going to work.
She couldn't suppress a snicker. In fact, she didn't even try. "Where's your license, sweetie?"
Very funny.
I sighed, then went around to the passenger side. Jan drove me to the mall for our big shopping expedition, just us girls. She has dragged me kicking and screaming into clothing stores before, of course. This time was different. For one thing, she came into the dressing room with me to help.
This is just so totally not me.
But that has to change.
The first thing she did was to buy a three-pack of silky panties. She had measured me at home, so it wasn't difficult to get clothes that fit. She took me into the dressing room and made me put one on. The other two were left in the package so that we could pay for the entire batch later. I couldn't help but to notice that they felt slippery when I pulled them up my hairless legs, and fit snugly with no flopping or looseness. I unconsciously went to straighten things out, but there was nothing to straighten out. That fact caused a sense of loss. Sometimes, I really want to be Joe again.
After Jan had loaded the shopping cart with about fifty pounds of clothes, including frilly underwear and some nylons, she got me fitted for a training bra. I really was hoping to put that one off for a while. On the way over to the feminine hygiene section, she grabbed a box of razors specially designed for tender young skin. The fact that I didn't have to shave anymore was one of the better parts of this ordeal. I'm not looking forward to starting again.
But the feminine hygiene section was worse. The last thing I want to do is put a box of miniature diapers in my drawer just to remind me about what I'll be dealing with sooner or later. Later, hopefully.
Jan dressed me in a cute sun dress that I would have really loved if it had been on someone else. I think she's enjoying this way too much. I looked at her and batted my eyelashes. "Gee, Mommy; Is this what I should wear when I'm shoveling crap out of the horse stalls?
Jan put her hands on her hips and said, "Is that any way to talk, young lady?"
But her eyes twinkled.
"Mommy, these clothes are pretty, but if I'm going to be shoveling horse sh..."
"Now that's enough of that, young lady!"
I could tell that Jan wasn't quite as amused as I was. Still, she reflected that I might need some work type clothes.
Here we go, trying clothes on again! What have I gotten myself into, anyhow?
But you know what? It really isn't all that bad. At least, not as bad as I remember. In fact, it's kind of fun to search through the cute styles and see how they look.
But it was still work, and I was hungry. "Mommy, now that we are finished, can we go get some ice cream?"
Now, it was her turn to tease me. "Gee, I don't know. You wouldn't want to ruin that pretty figure of yours by getting too fat, would you?"
"But Mommy, I'm a growing girl and need lots of calories. How else am I ever going to grow a nice set of boobies?" I cupped my hands were they would be if I had any.
It's a good thing Jan wasn't drinking anything or it would have certainly come out her nose. "Young lady!"
"Well, if I can't have ice cream, how about some of that to-futti stuff? The phytoestrogens from the soy beans might help."
Jan just rolled her eyes and led me to the check-out area. I don't think she noticed that the people who were in earshot of us were trying hard not to laugh too loudly.
But anyhow, we did end up going out for ice cream. She had to show me off to some of her friends, after all.
Day 5;
Monday, April 5, 2021:
Today, we explained what happened to the kids. They took it remarkably well. I think they even understood the part about not telling anyone else (not that anyone would believe them, anyhow.)
Well, that's one difficult task scratched off the list. Only about a gazillion more to go. The clients were easy enough to deal with. They are used to communicating via email and instant messenger. We just gave them the same story we gave the kids earlier. I don't know what we're going to do next time someone needs to meet with me in person, though.
But that's not the worse of it. I have a driver's license that says "Joseph Martin Jeblonski", and has a picture of a 41 year old man who's balding and kind of pudgy. OK, a lot pudgy. There is no license, birth certificate, social security card, or anything else with "Tiffany Jeblonski" printed on it.
Why did Jan pick that name, anyhow? It certainly wasn't my choice.
In a few months, I should be going to junior high. Oh, joy. I can probably avoid the whole mess for now, but I'll need some kind of an official identity to get into college, to get my driver's license, or just to go see a doctor.
It has always been our habit to pray over each boy when we tuck him into bed. Before we leveled with them, I had to change my prayer. Now, I can go back to the part that says, "Thank you for this little boy, and thank you for making him my little boy."
Day 10;
Saturday, April 10, 2021:
Time to go to the feed mill. We have lots of critters that want to eat, and the stores are running a bit low. I generally go there myself. This time, of course, Jan had to drive me.
'Hi Keith', I almost found myself saying. I have to remember that I don't know anyone around here.
Jan introduced us, then chatted with Keith for a bit, then asked me "What do we need this time?"
"I thought you printed out the list that Joe emailed to us." I paused a bit, as if trying to remember what was on the list. "Let's see... hundred pound bags of laying mash, corn, sunflower seed, horse complete feed, and chick starter. Two eighty pound bags of sweet feed. Fifty pound bags of dog and cat food..." I paused some more as if trying to remember if there was anything else to get.
"Hundred pound bags, eh? Who does Joe think will be carrying them?" Jan had a point.
We settled for two fifty pound bags of everything. Jan pulled the truck around to the loading dock as Keith started piling the bags up. I grabbed a bag and struggled with it.
"Tiffany! You're going to get a hernia!"
"Girls don't get hernias!" I grunted as I heaved the bag of corn into the truck.
"Yes they do! Besides, you might strain your back!"
Keith hopped off the dock and helped Jan. "I can't let a young lady like you hurt herself."
I just sighed and got into the passenger seat. Jan settled the bill and bought a couple candy bars. "Would you like a treat, little girl?" She is enjoying this way too much.
Day 13;
Tuesday, April 13, 2021:
So... Joe is still sequestered. No one has seen hide nor hair of him. He answers his emails promptly, though. Heh.
The farm work is getting easier. I'm either getting stronger, or I'm learning better how to work with my limited strength and take advantage of my improved energy.
Probably both.
Is this just another way of trying to hang on to my old identity? The glory of a young man is his strength, and the glory of an old man is is gray hair. I guess that means that I was somewhere between strength and wisdom when I got into this mess. That would make a great sig line if it still applied.
Apparently, all the hard work is doing something to this new body. Jan has been commenting about how the boys are really going to love me when I start to fill out. Be still my beating stomach. When the hormones start flowing, am I going to to suddenly become attracted to boys? This is so awkward! I am, after a married ummmm.... man?
At least Jan is taking this all in stride. In fact, she seems to be having the time of her life. She tried to get me signed up for dancing lessons, but I put my foot down on that one. We settled for riding lessons. I guess I'll be getting a horse after all.
Day 14;
Wednesday, April 14, 2021:
Jan just took me to a mother/daughter dinner. She dressed me up in a frilly dress and put a bow in my hair. I tried to get out of it. I tried to stand on my authority as the man of the house, but she didn't buy it. She never bought it before, either. All her friends made over me and swooned about how cute I am. And smart, too.
How do they have any idea about how smart I am, anyhow? I save that for my "Joe the Nerd" identity. I guess nerdiness is just some indelible part of my personality. I can probably have fun with it, once I gain my equilibrium I need to practice my 'ditzy blond' act, so I can drop it at just the right time. Mom always told me that my sense of humor would get me in trouble some day.
But hey, there's something to be said for being liked on sight. I'm so used to trying to compensate for less-than-wonderful looks. Lately, I have been taking on an entirely different set of mannerisms.
There is also something to be said for looking at yourself and liking what you see. I can't wait to see what I look like when I grow up again.
Or maybe I can wait. There is some other ummm... baggage that goes along with that.
Day 15;
Thursday, April 15, 2021:
I slept with Jan tonight.
No, not that way. Alas, that is no longer possible. She gave me hugs and cuddles, but they were the kind of hugs and cuddles you get from mom, not from your bride.
But God had promised me that our marriage would survive, and even flourish I'll just have to stand on that promise and wait for things to get better.
Day 18;
Sunday, April 18, 2021:
I was about to put on a blouse and some jeans for church when Jan tossed a dress and a set of nylons on my bed. I always liked it when Jan wore nylons, but I wasn't too keen on trying them on myself. I told Jan that I would wear nylons if she did. She knew that I had her, so she agreed.
In the past couple of weeks, I have been reading anything I could find that might give me some insight to my situation. Aside from the medical information about gender disorders, it was mostly fiction.
There is some good fiction out there, and there is also some really bad stuff. A lot of the authors like to go into detail about the differences between male and female clothes. Very often, the unfortunate man who has been unwittingly transformed ends up being totally confused. I was luckier than that. Any married man is going to have some some knowledge about women's clothing -- if for no other reason than the experience of removing it. What red blooded husband hasn't removed his wife's bra? What husband hasn't watched her put it on in the morning? Is there any married man out there who hasn't watched with pleasure as his wife bunched up her nylons and slid them up her legs? A lot of the stories also exaggerate the extra sensitivity of female skin. Sure, some parts are definitely more sensitive. It isn't all that big a deal, though.
Anyhow, I had always liked the feel of nylons on Jan's legs, but putting them on my own legs was a different experience. They felt smooth and silky and kind of springy. I could actually get to like this. We'll see how I feel about them after wearing them for a day.
The dress that she chose was demure and frilly. Still, it was short enough to fall just above my knees, and had a tie around the waist to emphasize what little shape that I have. A short pair of white heels and a bow in my light bond hair completed the look.
Church was interesting. I can't really say anything bad about it, of course. Our church has a way of loving you into the fold. That's why Jan and I chose to go there. We were welcomed from the start. It wasn't the official greeters shaking our hands. The people there genuinely have the gift of loving you unconditionally.
It was the same way this other 'first time'. I was welcomed. I overheard our friends asking about me, I mean Joe, I mean... [sigh]
I feel like I'm living a double life. Or maybe it's a triple life. When we go out in public, I'm Tiffany, the cute house guest of the Jeblonskis. When I'm working, I'm Joseph Jeblonski, BSEE, computer wrangler, code slinger, and all around solver of problems. When I'm on line, I'm just Joe the nerd or hobby farmer or Jeep aficionado or gardener or father or whatever.
I guess I should be used to it. With so many interests scattered among so many forums, I already show several different sides of my personality to several different groups of people. This just brings it into the real life that isn't buffered through a keyboard and monitor. Maybe I should create an on-line identity for Tiffany.
Or maybe not.
Day 20;
Tuesday, April 20, 2021:
There has been something tickling the back of my mind lately. There is a difference in me -- that is, the way that I think. There have been so many changes that I never noticed it at first. Sure, I'm more confident in a group of people than I ever have been before, but I attributed it to the notion that they aren't really seeing Joe. Also, knowing that the first impression, based on what they see, is more favorable. They want to like me.
But I also noticed that I can almost read minds.
No, I can't tell what they are thinking. It's more like I can tell what they are feeling, even when they are trying to hide it.
I have finally figured it out. I never was good at reading body language or facial expressions. It took years to do cognitively what most people are hard-wired to interpret from birth. Apparently, this new body has that hard wiring and it works fine. It's a whole lot easier to be at ease among people when I really know the score.
Day 22;
Thursday, April 22, 2021:
We just got a weird package in the mail. Why would a law firm from Florida be sending us this huge pile of papers? This doesn't look good.
Wait a minute! What's this on the address line?
Joseph Martin Jeblonski
Janet O'Malley Jeblonski
Tiffany Sarah Miller
Tiffany Sarah Miller? Is that my new name? How did Jan know that I was a Tiffany? This could be interesting.
The stack contains all the paperwork for the final disposition of the estate of Brian and Sarah Miller. It's all there; signed, sealed, and delivered.
It would seem that I now own a nice little estate right on the coast of Florida, along with some trust funds that are earmarked for college. I also get a generous stipend that takes the place of an allowance. Once I graduate from college or turn twenty-one, whichever comes sooner, I get access to the aggressive mutual funds into which all of Brian and Sarah Miller's assets were placed. Janet and Joseph Jeblonski get custody of Tiffany Miller, access to the little house by the sea, and a generous trust fund for child support.
So I am now my own foster father, if I can get back to being me, or who used to be me, or whatever. It reminds me too much of that old song about I'm my own Grandpa.
There is also a hand-written "If you're reading this, it means we're dead" type letters thanking us for taking care of their little girl, and telling Tiffany that they love her and will be watching her grow up from Heaven.
But we have never heard of the Millers. What is this all about?
Dumb question, eh? I wake up one morning as a girl, and I'm wondering about a bunch of legal papers. Whoever did this to me is obviously capable of fixing things up so that my presence won't attract too much attention or raise any eyebrows. I guess we'll take the papers to our lawyer tomorrow so that she can go through them, make sure everything is in order, and file what needs to be filed. We'll probably have to sign a few papers. I wonder if I can forge my own signature.
So, Jan and I made copies of everything, sorted it all into a stack to file at home, a stack to stick into the safe deposit box, and a third stack to send to the lawyer.
Let's see... what else is here?
There's a birth certificate, a social security card, a license that'll let me drive the quad and act as a state ID card, and a PADI recreational diver card. What? No ham license? I guess I'll have to take the tests again.
Anyhow, I now know that I just turned thirteen this past April 1. Very funny.
Wait... what is this? Buried deep in the stack is a small sealed envelope marked PERSONAL/CONFIDENTIAL. It has all three names on it. Maybe there are some answers here.
Dear Tiffany and Janet:
As you are no doubt thinking, it's time for some answers. We apologize for keeping you in the dark for so long, but it was necessary to provide you with an untainted experience. To forewarn is to inhibit. The answer to your first question is "yes and no". Yes, you will be able to switch back to your old body and no, it will not be permanent.
You can switch back to your Joe body for two hours every day. It doesn't have to be spent that way, though. Before you switch for the first time, you accumulate two hours of "Joe time" every day. The first time you transform, that changes. You still get two hours every day, but only a maximum of one hour is added to your bank every day. If you use two hours, nothing is added to your bank. If you use more than that, the extra time is deducted from your bank. Use it wisely. Save it for things like client meetings and jury duty.
No, you can't switch yet. It will happen later. It'll happen after you really wish it would. It will happen after you fully embrace your new identity. Enjoy the ride!
The answer to your second question is more complex, and we can't reveal it all to you. To forewarn is to inhibit. Sorry about that.
We are from another fold. That is, we worship and serve the Master and Creator of the universe, just like you do. We will eventually be sharing our technology with your world. You are the first to receive this gift. You are being prepared for a mission. Don't expect it to happen any time soon. Remember that Moses started his mission at the age of eighty, and your own age has just been reset by about thirty of your years. In other words, don't plan your life around the mission. When the time comes, you will be where you need to be.
You were chosen for many reasons. You were chosen because you have been tested many times in the past, and still flourish. You were chosen because the both of you have experience with teaching and counseling. Most of all, you were chosen for spiritual reasons. This decision did not come lightly. Nor did it come without a whole lot of prayer. Please agree with us in Prayer that this whole project becomes a blessing to your world.
Finally, please understand that the technology that we offer goes beyond simply offering everyone the ability to change their bodies around. What it amounts to is a cure to just about any disease there is.
There are some special restrictions put on your form shifting abilities because you have no knowledge about the proper use of the abilities, and because there is no one to counsel you. Also, it is important that you embrace your new identity. Restrictions will be relaxed as they become unnecessary.
Meanwhile, don't expect to develop physically at a normal rate. You will go from looking a little young for your age to looking mature for your age before you go to school in the fall.
By the way, you may notice some changes in the rest of your family. They aren't big changes. They are designed to improve the general health of your household. The biggest changes were done to your immune systems. Your allergies are gone, and everyone in your family is immune to the diseases that plague your planet. Also, there is no need to give psychotropics or any other long-term medications to everyone. This is a gift that we hope will help you feel better about the challenges that you face.
So, what's that all about? The space aliens are coming down to share their technology with us? It's ironic that they're coming to Jan and me, when there have been so many cults that have been waiting for the flying saucers to come and either save us all or take a chosen few away to utopia.
But what's this "other fold" stuff? I seem to remember something like that in the Gospel. I guess I'll have to look it up.
John 10:16 I have other sheep, which are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will hear my voice. They will become one flock with one shepherd.
Ah, OK. Nice to know, eh?
And what is this about only being able to switch after I really wish I should? Why do they have to be so stinking cryptic?
But at least I get to get my 'most prized possession' back. I hope Jan is pleased. Somehow, I think she likes me better this way.
But my marriage will flourish I have faith.
I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
Day 24;
Saturday, April 24, 2021:
Jan had a long shift today. So, after the chores were done, I took my brothers, I mean my kids out to the lake for some fishing. I still can't drive a car, so I took the ute. That was just part of the adventure.
Everyone did well, and we kept some of the bigger ones. I implemented the "you catch, you clean" rule. That rule goes for everyone but the cook (me), of course. The cook gets to follow the "you clean, I cook" rule. hee hee. I think we'll go launch rockets in the hay field some time before it starts getting tall. I hate having to search for rockets in the tall grass.
Day 25;
Sunday, April 25, 2021:
Somehow, going to church settles my spirit. We went early so that we could attend Sunday school. The kids went to their separate classes, but I opted to stay with Jan. I heard Jan quietly explaining that the big change in my life life is making me cling to her. It's the truth, of course, except that everyone assumes that the change that Jan is talking about is the death of Tiffany's parents.
This week, I decided to try singing. I was too shy to open my mouth last week, and I had no idea how it would come out. During the week, I sang along with some CDs to get the hang of all the little things like breath control, matching pitch, inflection, and the like.
As it turns out, I have better than three octaves of full-voice range, and a smooth, sweet voice (if I do say so myself). By the end of the worship service, I was really enjoying myself. I was invited to the teen group, but I declined. Jan tried to talk me into it, but I really don't want to do a bunch of teen stuff.
Day 26;
Monday April 26, 2021:
I have another date with Jan today. We have been doing that a lot.
Married couples are supposed to be best friends, too. The business of raising children is serious and rewarding, but we also need time to just be best friends. We need to laugh and have fun together. All too many married couples never get around to doing that. Now, we are doing things together and having fun without any expectations of what is going to happen once we get home and go to bed. That's disappointing, of course, because the physical relationship is such an integral part of the marriage. On the other hand, it is kind of liberating because it removes some of the pressure that one partner or the other might feel. It would not be a good thing long-term, of course.
I did my chores a bit early so that I could get some work done before our noon date. Then, I sat behind the computer and wrote up yet another vacation story for Great Lakes RV Rental. They tend to go quickly, so I was done in plenty of time to freshen up and change into something nice.
Jan got me yet another cute outfit. I'm actually beginning to enjoy the attention. OK, I'll admit it. I'm beginning to enjoy the nice clothes, too. This one looks like a little farmer girl dress. I don't know how else to put it. I put it on and dutifully modeled it for Jan. She took pictures.
Just as we were about to leave, Jan realized that nobody had collected eggs since early this morning. She handed me an Easter basket and asked me to go get the eggs. I went out there, called the chickens, and tossed some scratch grain on the ground for them. A couple of them let me reach down and pet them while they were eating. Most of the hens, even the ones that don't want to be petted, will also eat out of my hand. The roosters always run away, though; macho little guys that they are. They make that funny falsetto clucking noise to call their hens, and pick up the grain and drop it to show them where the treats are. you would think that they were the ones providing the food.
But I wasn't there to play with the chickens. I went in to the hen house and started filling the basket with eggs that are various shades of brown, white, blue, green, and olive. It was then that I noticed that Jan was taping the whole thing. I was tempted to ham it up and start skipping away with the egg basket, but that would be overdoing it just a bit. Instead, I picked up a hen and petted her. I had to be careful to keep her four-toed bird foot from soiling my dress.
Day 27;
Tuesday, April 27, 2021:
I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. The kids had made a mess out of their rooms. They appreciate it when we clean their rooms, but they don't lift a finger to keep it that way. Trying to get them to help is like pulling teeth. They always whine and complain and don't actually get anything done. Then, they get it messy again the next day. And do they ever think to take care of their own clothes? No! They root through their clothes and get perfectly good clean clothes all over the floor. Then they complain that they don't have anything to wear!
I was fuming when I heard the guineas start to squawk up a storm. Stupid birds! They'll squawk if a leaf is blowing the wrong way! Then I heard the chickens alarming. I looked out and saw a coyote trying to sneak up on my hens.
Without thinking, I grabbed my favorite 7 mm hunting rifle. I slammed a magazine in place and released the bolt all in one smooth motion. I lifted it to my shoulder. Stupid cumbersome gun! I should be used to this by now. No time to fuss over it. I laid a bead on the coyote and pulled the trigger. The recoil knocked me on my can. And to top it off, I missed the stinking coyote! I managed to scare him off, though. If he knows what's good for him, he won't be back. The way I feel now, I'll go out there and tear him to pieces with my bare hands.
Of course, Jan just had to come home just in time to watch me pull the trigger, fall on my butt, and curse vilely. "WHAT THE F--- ARE YOU LAUGHING AT?"
She choked back a giggle. "Now, now... such language for a lady."
Grrrrrrr!
I looked over at the pen that we use for mother hens and chicks, for growing incubator-hatched chicks, and for fattening up birds that are destined for the freezer. "All right, who has been climbing the fence to the grow pen?"
It went along in that vein for the rest of the day. I was collecting eggs and dropped one. The horse knocked over her grain bucket. The goats wanted to have a butting match when I was feeding them. "I'm the herd queen, and there will be no fighting when I'm present!" I gave the perpetrator a good shove in the shoulder. This is pretty much standard practice for asserting your dominance over a goat, but I took more pleasure in it this time.
Meanwhile, Jan gathered up the boys and spirited them off to someplace safe from the rampaging bear. I guess they spent some of that 'quality time', or something like that.
Man, what a day! Maybe a nice, warm bath will help me feel better.
I had just finished dressing in some comfy pajamas when Jan came in. She looked at me and said "So, what have you been PMSing about?"
"PMSing? I'm not PMSing! Didn't you see what those boys have been doing? They made a huge mess. They refused to help clean up. They wouldn't eat what I cooked for them. They complain that they have nothing to wear, when there are perfectly clean clothes in the laundry room and scattered all over their bedroom floors. They knocked down the fence on the grow pen. They..."
"Oh no! Oh dear Lord no!"
I looked up at her with tears in my eyes. She held me tight as I bawled my eyes out.
Day 28;
Wednesday, April 28, 2021:
As soon as I woke up, I really had to go to the bathroom. I had a bad case of the cramps, like I had to get rid of some caustic diarrhea. I pushed but nothing came. I got up and there was blood in the toilet. Ick! I took a long hot shower. It made me feel a little better. Cleaner, anyhow. But, the cramps were still there. This sucks!
It's been almost a month since I had the shock of my life. Now, I get another shock. Can I have my old body back? Please?
I didn't think so.
I went over to my dresser to dig for those things that I had buried deep just a couple weeks ago. They were now on top. Bless Jan and her foresight.
Day 29;
Thursday, April 29, 2021:
OK, so can someone please come over her and please shoot me? I think Jan changed the combination to the safe where I keep my Glock.
Do women really have to put up with this crap every month? I was moaning and complaining when Jan came up and introduced me to the wonders of ibuprofen. I think I'll keep a large economy size bottle in my drawer, and an emergency stash in my purse.
Day 33;
Monday, May 3, 2021:
The bloating is gone, the cramps are long gone, and I feel much better. There is still a little spotting, but I can live with that. I sure don't want to go through that again!
Jan assures me that I will, of course. Meanwhile, we have to go shopping and get another supply of those... diaper things.
Day 39;
Sunday, May 9, 2021:
Happy birthday to John!
My oldest son is thirteen years old now. We invited a couple of his friends over for dinner and had cake and ice cream for desert. None of his friends suspected that they were eating goat milk ice cream. They just knew that it is home made.
We had been telling John that he can babysit as soon as he turns thirteen. Twelve is generally considered to be an appropriate age for babysitting, but John has always lagged behind on his emotional maturity. He seems to have really matured in the last month, though.
Today, I let him know that he is officially on duty if we don't happen to be home when everyone gets off of the bus. It'll be nice to not have to hurry home if we happen to be running late. John will enjoy the extra cash, too.
Day 40;
Monday, May 10, 2021:
Time to get dressed for another day. I'm sore in a few um... tender areas. I walked to the full-length mirror and examined myself critically.
Yep, no doubt about it. I'm not as bony as I was a month ago. I'm seeing some curves at the hip, and It looks like I'll be needing something better than that training bra soon enough. I really have mixed feelings about this.
But I have to embrace the new me.
And anyhow, the training bra will keep those tender areas from getting chafed.
But I'm not the only one who is changing. As promised, everyone in the family is doing better. The kids are no longer wheezing and sneezing. John has actually become quite tender and compassionate. His outbursts have pretty much ceased.
And Jan -- she is looking great! She, too, is no longer getting sick or wheezy. She is losing the belly that she had earned by giving birth to three boys. Her skin is getting smoother, and the bristles of hair that she has here and there are not coming back after being plucked. While there is no physical reaction, the part of me that is still Joe is becoming very turned on.
Day 44;
Friday, May 14, 2021:
Jan and I decided to make a run over to the feed store about two counties over. They are selling chicks, ducklings, goslings, and even some pea chicks. I have always wanted to have some peacocks and pea hens, but Jan claims that they are too noisy. She's right, but I don't care. They're beautiful birds, and well worth the noise.
The big Jeep hasn't been used for over a month, so I talked Jan into taking it. It's my baby, and she isn't all that fond of driving it. I love the old luxurious Grand Wagoneer with its leather seats and V-8 engine, but Jan is more into the little sporty things.
We were following two cars; a coupe and a sedan, when we saw a logging truck come up over the rise about half a mile away. As usual for logging trucks, it was going faster than any sane person thought such a heavy truck should go. We saw a cloud of dust erupt from the right front wheel. The truck jerked, straightened a bit, turned in the opposite direction, and jackknifed.
Jan slammed on the brakes. I yelled "Dive for the field!" She did, and barely missed the other two cars. The Jeep spun out, but rapidly lost speed in the soft dirt. I prayed that it would remain upright. With nothing to hit in the field, the Jeep came out of the spin without any damage at all.
The sedan wasn't as successful as we were. It clipped the back end of the truck, spun a couple times, and came to rest in the field. The coupe spun out, rolled, bounced high, landed on its top, and rolled back on to its wheels. The car that was following us came to a stop well behind the conflagration.
Jan grabbed her badge and emergency kit and ran to the coupe. I grabbed the fire extinguisher and crow bar and did the same thing. The man and woman that were driving behind us ran to the coupe. The woman was yelling into her cell phone and running at the same time.
The door was stuck -- totally jammed. I suggested to Jan that she go to the sedan, rather than wait for us to break into the coupe. I studied the car carefully. There was smoke coming out from under the hood. The metal was mangled by the hinge edge of the door. There was no intact glass in the car at all. The window frame for the door was bent out, and actually went higher than the collapsed roof.
Car doors are designed to take a lot of punishment and protect the passengers. Generally, they are made in three layers. The hinges, latch, window crank, and everything else is attached to a thick stamped metal frame with large holes cut through it for weight reduction and access to all the mechanisms. The outside layer is thin sheet metal, and the inside layer is little more than cardboard with a plastic coating.
I grabbed the crow bar and jabbed it just above and forward of the handle. My Joe body would have been able to jab the sharp end clean through the thin sheet metal, but I barely made a dent.
The woman in the car was screaming and sobbing. The pre-teen girl next to her was slumped forward.
I turned to the confused man and said, "We need a hole right there so that we can pull this door off with the Jeep." I handed him the crow bar and ran to the Jeep. I pulled the Jeep up to within twenty feet of the car and ran up to the winch. I pulled the lever so that it would free-wheel, grabbed the cable, and ran to the car with it. There was a large puddle of gasoline under the car, and the fumes were unbelievable. This car could blow at any time.
The man had succeeded in putting a nice-sized hole in the sheet metal, and another through the inner door liner.
I used my small hand to feed the cable through the holes and up around the window frame. I pulled it through and hooked the shackle around the cable. I ran to the winch and flipped the free wheel lever. No time to do this nicely. That car can blow at any second.
The guy who had put the hole through the door had the presence of mind to blast the fire extinguisher under the hood. It didn't seem to make any difference, but it certainly can't hurt.
I put the Jeep into low range, popped it into reverse, and slowly backed up to take up the slack. Once the cable was tight, I gave it the gun. The engine strained, the cable tightened, and there was a loud bang as the door broke loose and almost hit the front of the Jeep. I backed the Jeep about a hundred feet into the field, turned it off, and ran to coupe.
I could see that Jan, with the assistance of someone who looked familiar, was working on someone by the sedan. The man and woman who were in the car behind us were already pulling the people out of the car. The pre-teen girl looked shaken, but otherwise OK. The mother was bleeding from her arms and hands, and her legs looked broken. She was screaming "My baby! My baby!"
"Where's your baby?", I asked.
"In the back seat!"
Oh crap.
I crawled into the coupe, which was reeking of raw gasoline. I prayed really hard not just for the baby, but for myself. If this thing blows, I'm toast. Literally. The roof was bent almost down to the seats. There was really no room to crawl between them. There was just a small triangle of space between the tops of he seats and the severely crushed roof.
But then, I'm not all that big, either.
I put my hands through the triangular hole, poked my head through, and was stuck. I could see the baby seat, and I heard crying. I grabbed the seat belt that held the baby seat and pulled myself through. I felt the tortured metal of the roof bite into my flesh. There was no help for it -- my skirt was ruined.
Another good heave, and I was in the back seat with the baby. I unbuckled him and passed him through the hole to the waiting arms of a woman. I was getting light-headed from all the fumes. I was about to pass out.
I put my hands, then my head through the hole. There was nothing to grab and pull myself through. Just as I was getting stuck, a pair of strong hands grabbed my arms and gently but firmly pulled.. I slid through a foot or so, which gave him room to grab me under the arms. I thought he was going to pull me in two, but my hips finally made it past the tight spot. I was almost crying from the pain of getting the skin scraped off of my butt, but now I was safe in his arms. I looked up into the face of a county sheriff. He smiled at me, and carried me with one arm under my upper back and the other arm under my thighs. He gently laid me on a blanket in the field, right next to the woman and her baby.
The dizziness was starting to fade. I could taste the gasoline vapors in the air that I breathed out. I knew that my bloodstream and the mucus lining of my lungs must contain quite a bit of that noxious stuff. I started to get up. "Is everyone safe?"
The woman who had been helping Jan gently pushed me back down and told me that everyone was fine. "Hi Joan. Nice to see you," I said. I recognized her from church, and from some of the hospital employee get-togethers.
"I'm so proud of you, honey! You saved that baby's life."
"I seem to recall a pair of hands that look a lot like yours receiving that child," I said.
FWOOM!
The coupe burst into flame, sending a blast of hot air our way.
By this time, the police had flares and warning triangles set out, blocking traffic. The sirens that I heard in the distance resolved themselves into a fire truck, which went straight to the coupe. The firemen hopped out and immediately started spraying it down with foam.
Suddenly, three ambulances appeared. The cops directed the first one over to where Jan was tending to the teen-ager. The EMTs put the patient on a stretcher, and escorted Jan and the boy's mother into the back. It took off with sirens blaring. The mother and baby were shuffled into the second ambulance, and the pre-teen went in the third. That left the emergency personnel, the local people that came out of their houses to help (including Joan), the father from the sedan (who introduced himself as Jack), and me.
One of the sheriffs came over and told me that Jan had to go with the patient, and offered me a ride to the hospital. I asked if someone could drive me in the Jeep. Jack was only too happy to comply, and busied himself with the winch. Joan and the sheriff escorted me to the Jeep just as he got the cable wound up and secured. As we drove away, a wrecker arrived. We passed two more on our way to the hospital.
A bunch of flashes went off when we walked into the emergency room. A nurse was waiting to take Jack back to his family. I could tell by her smile that the boy was going to be OK.
Jan said, "Come on, missy. It's time to get you checked out and cleaned up."
"Not in that order, I hope," I replied.
She smiled and took me to one of the patient bathrooms that had a shower. I stripped down and dropped my clothes into a plastic bag. They reeked of gasoline. After I got out of the shower, Jan met me with a hospital gown. I told her that it just isn't my color.
They had to draw blood, of course. I think there is a rule that anyone who goes into the emergency room has to get poked.
Jan treated the lacerations on my tushie, and looked at the lab results. There was no trace of hydrocarbons in my blood. I guess this new body of mine is good at taking care of itself.
I put on hospital slippers and some slightly oversize sweats that Jan had managed to procure, and we walked out. We were both shocked by the sound of applause. A local television reporter stuck a microphone in our faces and started to ask questions. Jan pointed to me and said "This is the hero. She figured out how to pull the door off that car, and then risked her life to save that baby. Without her, everyone would have died in the fire. All I did was my job."
I blushed and said that I just did what I had to do, and that I had plenty of help.
The mother that I had helped to rescue came out in a wheelchair. "You saved my baby! How can I ever repay you?" I gave her a hug and told her that it was my pleasure.
I fawned over the baby, and gave his big sister (the pre-teen) a hug. "Just love these kids and pray over them every night, and I'll consider myself to be more than paid back." She had a confused expression on her face. "May I?", I asked. She nodded. I prayed over the baby boy and his big sister, one at a time. "I... My foster parents pray over all of us like that every night. It makes us feel loved and secure." She looked thoughtful, then smiled and nodded.
She looked at the remains of my skirt and offered to get me a new one. I declined, saying that I was outgrowing it, anyhow. Jan rolled her eyes. "What kind of a teenie-bopper girl refuses free clothes?
"I'm not a typical teen-ager," I told her with a smirk. She just shook her head.
On the way home, it occurred to me that I had ministered to that woman in a way that I could not have done as Joe. As a young and non-threatening girl, I was able to deliver a message of love without looking preachy.
* * * * *
Interlude
Vrall and Snrxl watched the scene unfold. Vrall asked. "How did you engineer this little test without taking some very real chances?
"I didn't engineer a thing," said Snrxl. "This was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you. All I could do was set up a heat damper field just in case that car decided to blow before Tiffany and the baby were out of there."
Vrall thought about that for a while. "Well, however it happened, it appears that that little accident has given young Tiffany a good dose of self-confidence. She's doing very well."
Day 45;
Saturday, May 15, 2021:
Up and down, up and down. Yesterday, I felt so good after seeing two families come out of a potentially disastrous situation with little more than a scratch. I have to admit that the news coverage stroked my ego quite a bit. One of Joan's kids had videoed the whole thing with her smartphone, and the local news station ran a lot of footage. They made me look very good indeed.
Today, I'm an emotional wreck. I'm falling apart, but I can't figure out why. It must be hormones or something.
Day 56;
Wednesday, May 26, 2021:
Here it comes again. Can I switch back now? Just for a little while? How about just long enough for a nice swim?
But this time, I am ready with the ibuprofen.
Day 61;
Monday, May 31, 2021:
My outlook on life is much better now. Beating your head against the wall has its merits because it feels so good when you quit. There is something to be said for not feeling like crying over every little mishap or situation.
Meanwhile, Jan tells me that I am getting more in touch with my feminine side, and that doesn't bother me. Now that it's clear that I'll be able to have my old identity back, I am much more willing to embrace my new one. I'm not losing who I was. Instead, I'm gaining a whole new self. I'm becoming more than I ever was.
But so much for the post-period philosophizing I have a riding lesson to go to. After that, I'm going fishing with my brothers... I mean kids. I think they like me this way, too.
Jan is still tickled pink to have a 'daughter'. I have come to enjoy the attention. In a way, I feel closer to Jan now than ever before.
Day 62;
Tuesday, June 1, 2021:
It's a beautiful day. We got up to the sounds of roosters crowing and birds singing. Summer is finally here. The ground is warming up. I took a quick shower and dressed in shorts and a light blouse. I could hear Jan chatting with someone on her cell. I heard the office phone ring. "Can you get that, sweetie?" Jan asked. I waved at her and hustled downstairs. Sometimes, I wonder about the wisdom of having three phones. It just lets three people interrupt our lives at the same time. It turned out to be a wrong number.
Instead of going back upstairs to get my shoes, I walked barefoot on to the back porch and enjoyed the warm sun and the balmy breeze. The wooden porch felt good under my bare feet. I used to walk barefoot all the time as a kid, but gave it up as I got heavier. After a while, every rock and twig I stepped on would cause me to wince in pain.
But now, things are different. I leapt off the porch and on to the grass, enjoying the springy and slightly ticklish feeling on the soles of my feet. I felt like I had regained some small measure of freedom that I hadn't really realized that I had lost until now.
Well, I guess it won't hurt to do the chores this way. I just have to watch where I step. I may enjoy the feeling of the warm earth under my feet, but I definitely don't like feeling squishy poop between my toes. I tiptoed around the feed cans and tossed some scratch grain to the chickens. I grabbed an egg can and walked into the storage area.
I had purposely set up the storage area to be animal-proof. Animal-resistant is a better description, since those critters are so adept at getting where they don't belong. The feed hoppers, goat manger, and egg boxes form a part of a barrier that separates the animals from the storage area.
The manger was empty, but that's OK. In the summer, I like to toss a fork full of alfalfa hay over the electric fence to encourage them to eat outside, and pay more attention to the natural forage. The chicken feed hopper was still half full. I lifted the doors to the nest boxes and collected the eggs, dropping -- I mean carefully placing them into a coffee can with a bit of hay at the bottom for padding.
I know, using a coffee can to collect eggs is hardly picturesque. Still, it's practical and cheap. If someone wants picturesque, I guess we can get a nice little easter basket and dress some little girl up in a sun dress and have her get the eggs.
I put the can of eggs on the porch and used the pitch fork to pick up some alfalfa hay. I have managed to gain some strength in the past two months, so it wasn't too difficult to pick up a big wad of the stuff. As usual, some pieces fell on the fence. As usual, I plucked them off of the fence and tossed them into the pile.
ZAP! I jumped about three feet in the air and screeched.
Duh! Usually, I have shoes on when doing this. The shoes, along with the high resistance of the pieces of hay, keep me from getting zapped. Today, however, my bare feet are planted firmly upon the moist soil. I managed to blithely pick off a few strands, but it was inevitable that a pulse would hit exactly when I grab the strand if I kept at it.
I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
I added the caution because there is an attempted rape. It is not explicit, and the would-be rapist ends up ruing the day he ever tried.
Day 63;
Wednesday, June 2, 2021:
Has it really been two months? Two periods, two months... I guess it makes sense. In that time, I have come to figure out a few things.
First of all, I am Joe. I have four decades of male memories, and my innermost 'me' is still Joe. Still, I am truly enjoying being Tiffany. My body is female. As far as I can tell, all of my neural pathways are those of a female. For instance, when I have a problem, my first instinct is to go crawl off into my cave and stew over it. Soon enough, Jan sees me doing that and comes to ask me questions about it. When I was Joe, I could successfully resist all attempts to draw me out. I really, more than anything else, just wanted her to go away and let me stew in peace.
I tried that as Tiffany, and failed utterly. Jan soon had me telling her everything, right down to the smallest details of how I feel about it. And I enjoyed doing that. I needed to do that. It was the right thing to do. After a while, I just started going to Jan whenever I felt like venting. It was the most natural thing in the world.
But still, deep inside of me, the part of me that is still Joe wanted to have nothing to do with it. This experience has also given me insight to my original attitudes. For instance, it has definitely highlighted the difference between aesthetic appreciation and sexual attraction.
My Joe mind has lost nothing when it comes to the appreciation of the female form. There is no arousal when inhabiting this body, however. I had already experienced that, but it comes to clearer focus now that I have seen things from the other side.
In this body, much to my chagrin, I now recognize what the young girls are talking about when they see a cute boy. I can see what they are talking about, so I am thankful that my mysterious benefactors have spared me the experience of becoming aroused. It is, in fact, similar to when I see a pretty young girl John's age, and note to myself that she and John would make a cute couple.
So, while I still remain the same person that I have always been, I have added to that person. I am comfortable in my new Tiffany body and persona, but I also want to be Joe again. Honestly, if I had to choose one over the other, I would have a difficult time making that decision. In the end, I would have to choose to be Joe for the sake of my marriage and my boys, but it would be difficult to give up being that young girl that I, and Jan, have learned to love.
Day 64;
Thursday, June 3, 2021:
I woke up this morning and felt a weight embedding me into the mattress.
Wait a minute. I just got over my period. It's not time for another one yet. Then my mind cleared. I'm back!
This doesn't feel as good as I thought it would. Still, I looked myself over critically. Yep, all the body parts are there. The scars are gone, though. Even my appendectomy scar is gone. There is no sign of facial hair, not even the stubble that I normally have by the time I hit the sack. In the mirror, I saw a nice brush cut. The hair line was a little lower than before, and my hair is a little less thin on top. I wonder how long I'll have to stay male in order to get a mustache. Is it cumulative, or does it start fresh every time I switch?
I thought about what the note said. I get an hour of manhood for free. After that, it starts dipping into the extra hour that I might otherwise bank away for a rainy day. No time to waste!
Jan was sitting up and watching me when I turned around. I really liked the look in her eyes. I'm sure that the same look was in my yes. I felt desires that I haven't felt for two months. Yep, Jan looks really good! It goes beyond aesthetic appreciation, too.
I won't go into detail about how we spent that hour. Suffice it to say that our marriage is alive and well.
When my hour was up, we were still relaxing in the afterglow. I wasn't watching the clock or anything, but I somehow knew that the hour was up. I closed my eyes and imagined myself in my Tiffany body -- and there I was. I was Tiffany again, as clean as if I had just taken a shower.
Day 65;
Friday, June 4, 2021:
I was wondering if I was going to wake up in my Joe body again. I didn't. Apparently, that was just something that happens the first time.
It was a warm night, so I really felt like I needed a shower. I went into the bathroom to do just that, but stopped. I wonder...
I closed my eyes and thought of my Joe body. Instantly, I was a man again. In the mirror, I saw a perfectly shaved face, a little more hair on my head, and a little less gut. I grinned at myself, and noticed that I have no more fillings or crowns. Come to think of it, the fact that I could see myself clearly means that I no longer need glasses. I was also as clean as if I had just showered. This could be quite handy. I switched back, dressed, and worked on yet another sales report for Mudslinger 4WD Auto Supply. By the time I came up for air, everyone was eating breakfast. I joined them. Jan wondered why I was in such a wonderful mood.
I had some particularly heavy yard work that I had been putting off. I had to haul some heavy landscaping timbers around and make a nice raised bed flower garden for the front of the house. I have been putting this off for way too long. I dug through some of my old clothes until I found some shorts and a loose t-shirt. This could be awkward. I went out to the front of the house and thought things through a bit. I loosened the draw string on the shorts and shifted to my Joe body. This is going to be even more awkward when I get old enough to really need a bra. That time is coming soon, too, judging by how tender that area is.
I worked my tail off to make the best of my time. I started to get hot, so off came the shirt. That's a luxury I hadn't had in a while. I worked right through the hour warning, and was well into my second hour when I finally got everything stacked properly. I was sore and sweaty. I was in such a hurry to change back that I almost forgot to put my shirt back on.
But wait a minute. Why change back in these nasty, sweaty clothes? It'll take less than a minute to run to my room.
So I ran to my room, stripped, and shifted back, enjoying the feeling of lightness and the sudden lack of sweat and grime. To my surprise, the soreness was gone, too. Come to think of it, so are all the inevitable cuts and scrapes that I had earned from all that hard labor. And hadn't I managed to scrape my knee yesterday as Tiffany? It's gone now. This is great!
Day 67;
Sunday, June 6, 2021:
I'm still getting used to this shape-shifting stuff.
Putting it that way, it sounds like I'm a werewolf, or something like that. I should count my blessings, I guess. They could have turned me into a catgirl or something.
But it's interesting that we already have words and concepts for this. The idea that one can switch or transform or shift shapes has been around for a very long time.
But the old stories have it wrong. If a werewolf gets injured, that injury stays with him after he shifts. This technology, however, seems to build a brand-new body for you each time. If you get hurt, just shift and it's all better. I really like being able to switch at will. If I get hurt, or just get dirty, I can switch bodies and all is well. I tried that when I got tired while working last night, but it only worked a little. The physical fatigue would go away, and I could stay up for a long time by switching bodies. Still, after a while, I started to get mentally and emotionally fatigued. I don't think it's a matter of my spirit needing sleep. Rather, the brain requires sleep to reintegrate and sort through everything that has happened during the day. Of course, the status of my brain has to be preserved when switching bodies, or I really would end up being two different people.
So, I can get rid of physical fatigue or injuries easily enough. That probably means that I can drink a cup of hemlock and save myself by shifting. I wonder if it'll happen automatically if someone shoots me or I get hit by a truck. I don't think I'll be experimenting.
Day 69;
Tuesday, June 8, 2021:
Jan and I were laying side by side enjoying the after glow when she said something really interesting.
"I'm really glad to have you back, Joe!"
"But I never left! I have been here all along."
"Now, don't get me wrong. I love Tiffany dearly. I missed you, though."
I don't remember the conversation exactly. Jan almost considers Tiffany and Joe to be two different people. She knows that we are the same, but there is a definite difference in personalities, especially after we got that letter and I started to relax about losing myself. I told her that I can perfectly express my Joe personality when Tiffany is typing on the computer.
"That's because you don't have to worry about body language when you type. When you're typing as Joe, your body language is still Tiffany's. It's not just a different appearance. It's a whole new set of mannerisms. Even the cadence and word choice in your spoken language is different."
I never noticed that. I guess it's something you can see better from the outside.
I still haven't created a 'Tiffany' identity for the web. I will probably have to at some point. It'll be interesting to see how well I can express myself as Tiffany while typing.
Day 72;
Friday, June 11, 2021:
I have to fix the big Jeep. I both love and hate working on the Jeep. I love knowing how it works and modifying it so that it'll work better. I hate wasting time just getting it to work the way it was before. I truly despise getting all dirty and greasy. The mosquitoes always seem to want to take advantage of the fact that you're unwilling to swat your face with a greasy gritty hand.
In this case, there seems to be something wrong with the transfer case linkage. I can't get it to shift into four wheel drive. What's the use of having a Jeep if you're stuck in two wheel drive? I hate working on the linkage. It's really greasy, and it's hard to reach. I always end up scraping my hands when working there.
I decided to wear an old pair of mechanic's coveralls so that I could shift to my Joe body if I need the strength. It turns out, though, that I didn't really need much strength to do the job. Leverage is more important than strength, and I can reach places with my small hands that I could never reach before. Another plus is that I could see better in the shadows. I had kind of noticed that I was losing that ability with age, but this confirms it.
So, the job was done quickly. I got out from under the Jeep and started to climb in. I thought for a second, then switched to my Joe body for a second to get rid of the grease and grime. I used to wonder where all that stuff goes, but the fact that there is a big difference in mass between the two bodies is a bigger mystery.
Anyhow, I started the Jeep and drove it around the farm (with the seat all the way forward and the steering wheel tilted down). It worked great in all ranges.
Day 75;
Monday, June 14, 2021:
The kids were all invited to a birthday party. I was invited belatedly, too, but I begged off. After all, Tiffany doesn't even know the birthday boy. Jan dropped the kids off, then sequestered herself into her office to do some paperwork. She promised me that we would spend some time together after she's done, and it should only take an hour or so. I decided to take a walk along the road so I could check the fence line and pick up any trash that people might have tossed out. I could have taken the ute, but it was a nice day for a walk.
I saw a car coming from the other way, so I started to move to the side of the road. He was going way too fast for this road. He hit a loose spot, slid a bit, over corrected, and spun out -- right into me.
They say that everything plays in slow motion when you have an accident, but that wasn't the case with me. It all happened quickly, and my brain was overloaded with details that it took me a while to sort out.
I remember the rear end of the car looming big as it was about to run into me sideways. I remember blinding pain, and the sound and feel of broken bones. Air escaped from my lungs, there was a roaring in my ears, and my vision started to blank out.
Then, the pain was gone. I was flying through the air toward that tree with a broken branch that I had intended to saw off. Oh crap!
I was also vaguely aware that I was in my Joe body, though I don't recall shifting. It probably happened when I passed out.
So, it was my Joe body that got impaled in the rib cage by that broken and jagged branch. Red hot pain coursed through my body as the branch broke through my rib cage and went through my lungs. I felt myself slump and dangle from the branch. Then I passed out.
Then I was falling. By reflex, I straightened myself out and landed on my side with a slight roll. Bless those old martial arts classes I used to take.
I was tiffany again, slightly bruised and scraped from a six foot fall on to the stick-strewn ground. I'm glad I had previously cleared away most of the fallen branch.
The driver of the car jumped out and ran to me. "Oh my God! Are you OK?"
I was a bit disoriented, but fine. I got up and assured him that I was OK, but he insisted that I need to see a doctor. Maybe my torn and blood-smeared clothes had something to do with that.
I told him that I'm fine. Really. He wouldn't hear it, though. He finally agreed to drive me home. After all, my foster mother is a doctor.
Jan, understandably, was upset. I assured her that I was fine, and suggested that she examine me. The driver of the car sat in the living room while Jan and I went to her office. I stripped down so that she could see that there weren't any major injuries. I switched to my Joe body and back to clear up the bruises and scrapes. She went up stairs and got some clothes for me. Once I got dressed, I handed her a stethoscope and asked her to put it around her neck. Sometimes, a simple prop makes things more convincing. Doctor Jan went out to reassure the poor guy that she had examined me thoroughly, and that I am just fine. He was kind of dumbfounded, but he left readily enough.
So, this experience answers one of my earlier questions. And, I don't even have to get shot to find out.
Day 77;
Wednesday, June 16, 2021:
Now, it's time to face the rest of my family.
My parents like to spend their winters in Florida. I don't blame them, really. Around the end of April, they start working their way north. They visit friends and family along the way, and stay at various campgrounds. They call it camping, anyhow. What do you call it when setting up camp consists of leveling your motor home with hydraulic jacks, pressing a switch to expand the side, pressing another to put up the TV dish, and hooking up the water and electricity?
But now, they have finally made their way up here to their lake home. I want a lake house when I grow up. Up here, it's nice and cool during the summer, and you can't beat the view.
So, how do we tell them about Tiffany? They know the cover story, of course.
It turned out to be easier than I expected. My mother welcomed Tiffany with open arms. They didn't react at all when we told them the story. I think they were trying to decide if we were off our rockers, perpetrating a joke, or maybe just explaining the unbelievable. When I excused myself to put on some loose clothes, then shifted in front of them, they accepted everything readily enough. They still couldn't resist the urge to treat their new 'granddaughter' Tiffany different than they treat me.
But then, I'm used to that. I love them as 'Grandma and Grandpa and Grandpa' as much as I love them as 'Mom and Dad'.
Day 80;
Saturday, June 19, 2021:
It's our family custom to get together at Mom and Dad's lake house a little after they are settled in. There is some room at the house, and plenty of space down by the lake for campers and motor homes.
As each family came, there were hugs all around. Everyone was happy to see Tiffany. It's wonderful how my family welcomed this newcomer. Everyone asked about Joe, too. We told them that Joe had a few things to do, but that he would be along soon enough. When everyone was getting together for dinner, I excused myself and shifted when John was telling one of his stories. While Jan and the kids were doing the final preparation, I asked for everyone's attention and stumbled through the spiel that I had half-prepared.
I told them how blessed we feel that Tiffany has come into our lives. I told them that there is more to the story, though. I really stumbled through the explanation, and finally just shifted right in front of them to make my point. I purposely chose some clothing that wouldn't fall off. I had only used up about ten minutes of Joe time. That's good, because I really would like to use the rest of that time tonight.
Day 81;
Sunday, June 20, 2021:
We went straight to the lake house after church today. After saying hello to everyone, I noticed that my dad and brothers were down by the dock working on some project. It isn't unusual at all for Dad to find some project or another for us all. This year, we were repairing and expanding the dock. I changed out of that cute dress I was wearing for church, put on some work clothes, and went down to help.
I always loved those work sessions with my dad and brothers. The one down side of leaving the rat race is that I moved several hours away from my brothers. When we all come up to the lake house, it's like old times. We talk about tools and guns and hunting and fishing and boating and camping and all those guy things, while putting our skills to use patching up or building whatever needs to be built at the lake house.
This time was different. Whenever I tried to lift something heavy, one of my brothers would rush to help. The language was considerably less rough, and if someone slipped up, he would look embarrassed. I was in definite 'guy' mode, but some of my mannerisms were Tiffany's.
Finally, exasperated, I looked at them all and said, "Look guys, it's me in here! Me, Joe!"
They just kind of mumbled a bit and didn't really know what to do.
I came to the realization that it wasn't really fair of me to go out there looking like a little girl and expect them to treat me like a man. After all, I have been spending almost three months trying to develop my 'Tiffany' personality and keep it separate from my 'Joe' personality. I finally sighed, touched my index finger to my chin, curtsied, and said, "You strong men look like you could use a bite to eat. I'll be right back!"
I ran up to the house and made a stack of sandwiches. Then, I quickly changed into a rather over-sized pair of work coveralls, grabbed the sandwiches and some other food and drinks, and ran back down to the dock. It really was time for a break. Everyone was hungry, so we chowed down. Once we were done, I shifted to my Joe form and went to work with the guys. It was just like old times.
Day 85;
Thursday, June 24, 2021:
Yuck! Right on time, of course. This is not fun.
I shifted, then shifted back. Sure enough, I was clean again. I could feel the blood starting to work its way out, though. This sucks. So much for that idea.
Day 94;
Saturday, July 3, 2021:
The note was right. I am growing quickly. I'm barely fitting into the clothes that we purposely bought too big. There is no bony 'Olive Oyl' look about me any longer. Instead, my body is a study in contrast between soft curves and hard muscles. Those stories I have been reading always talk about getting weaker when a man gets converted into a woman. That happened, of course, but largely because I became a kid. I'm working hard to reverse that part of it, though. I refuse to be a weakling.
For the sake of modesty, the bra is pretty much a necessity now. My hair is shifting from its original child-like candyfloss blond to a rich honey blond. Part of me is uncomfortable with the changes. Part of me really likes it and would like to spend some quality time in front of the mirror. Am I becoming a narcissist? I try to tell myself that I am making the giver happy by appreciating the gift.
There are some interesting differences. While I am growing pubic hair, there is no trace of hair on my underarms or legs. Even the pubic hair is limited to a smaller area than one might expect.
Meanwhile, my Joe body is losing fat, gaining muscle, and even gaining some head hair. I think Jan likes the changes. I certainly like the changes I am seeing in Jan. She is now very curvy and shapely. She has managed to lose all of her excess fat, and even the cellulite that has been plaguing her for years. I still haven't been able to talk her into wearing a bikini, though.
Day 95;
Sunday, July 4, 2021:
Happy independence Day!
After church, we went to the lake house and had a wonderful time. The weather was calm and warm, but not hot. I spent some quality time paddling around the lake in the canoe. I also went fishing with my brothers and nieces and nephews. The nieces and nephews are more like cousins when I'm in my Tiffany form, of course.
At night, we watched the illegal fireworks that some of the other lake residents like to send up. Jan and I paddled out in the canoe and watched from the lake. The boys and some of their cousins went out in the pontoon boat. Mom and Dad took the paddle boat out.
Day 96;
Monday, July 5, 2021:
Why do these things happen to me? Really! Do I have a target painted on my back? I would hate to think that our mysterious benefactors are arranging this in order to give me opportunities to use my new abilities. Maybe the Devil is trying to knock me down. I'm used to showing up as a blip on his radar screen, so this is really nothing new.
Anyhow, I got to feel one of the really frightening sides of being a girl today. Now I understand why so many women are paranoid about where they go and who they see. You can't be too careful.
I decided to do some shopping at the mall today, so I went to work with Jan. We ate breakfast together in the hospital cafeteria, then I hoofed it on over to the mall. It's less than a mile away; an easier walk than the route I usually take when walking around the property. Still, I decided to take a short cut through an alley. I had done that a number of times before, so what's the big deal? I was just strolling along and listening to some music on my old cell phone. (I like to use my old cell phone for videos, music, reading, and browsing the web so that I don't run down the battery on my current phone.)
I was about half way through when someone grabbed me from behind and put his hand over my mouth. I struggled and tried to scream, but this guy is big and strong. He dragged me through a side alley and threw me roughly into the back of a van. He slammed the door shut. It wouldn't open from the inside. It must have been a cargo van because there was a big barrier between the inside of the van and the seats.
I felt the van moving. Cargo vans have no windows in the back, and this one was no exception. There was a filthy mattress in the back. His intent was clear. There have been a number of rapes in the area. I knew the score. I fought back panic.
Calm, calm... you're not the dewy-eyed little lady that you appear to be. Think, girl, think! You can get out of this.
I was shaking like a leaf, but I was at least in control of my mind. It's time to survey my options. The first thing I did was to set both of my cell phones to record and tuck them deep into my pockets. Then, I loosened up my clothes a bit so that I could shift in an instant if necessary. I cowered in the corner at the back of the van, and did my best to look scared. It wasn't difficult. He got out and went in through the side door. He was wearing a mask, just as reported in the news. He looked big and strong and scary.
"W-what are you going to do?" I wanted to get him to speak. "You'll never get away with this!"
He just laughed. Then, he told me in gruesome disgusting detail exactly what he planned on doing, getting more and more excited with each word. A part of me was scared spitless, but the calm rational part of me noted that he was losing control of himself. His lust and excitement was taking over. If I bide my time, he will be mine. He grabbed my blouse and ripped it off, popping all of the buttons. Then, he pawed at my bra, leering all the time and getting more and more aroused. His breath reeked. He gathered both of my small hands into one big fist, held them over my head, and grabbed at my skirt.
Now!
I shifted and kneed him in the groin. He howled and let go of my hands, which were now too big for him to hold. The adrenaline was flowing. I was mad. I had never been so angry in all my life! I kneed him in the face and slammed him to the floor. Then, I belatedly remembered to pull out my can of pepper spray and gave him a good blast in the face, then another in the groin. I emptied the entire can on him, and tossed it aside. That should keep him incapacitated for a while. I shifted back, grabbed the remnants of my blouse, held it over my chest, and ran screaming from the van. Fortunately, he hadn't locked the door. I cried and sobbed and managed to communicate that there was a rapist in the van in the alley. Two guys ran to the van, and a lady called the police on her cell phone. Why hadn't I thought to use mine?
The police were there incredibly quickly. Soon, they were dragging a handcuffed and sobbing man from the van. He didn't look nearly as big and frightening now.
I calmed down considerably on the ambulance ride. The nice police lady was very comforting. She assured me that the detectives were even now crawling all over the van and gathering evidence. It was then that I remembered my cell phones. It made me smile when she congratulated me for being so quick-witted.
We were at the hospital in a flash, and Jan was at the emergency entrance waiting for me. I sobbed and hugged her tight. If I was putting on a show, I was doing a good job of it.
It wasn't a show, of course. All I had to do is to let my natural feelings express themselves fully. No show. Not really.
Another neurologist took over for Jan and she walked me through the entire process. It was a process, too. They took samples of everything -- and I mean everything. I ended up having to experience my very first pelvic exam. They assured me that my hymen was still intact; that I was still a virgin.
The fact that he hadn't actually succeeded in raping me deprived them of some samples, but nobody complained about that. They all just kept telling me about how I'm a hero, bringing that guy to justice.
The court case is going to be ugly. Really ugly. It's going to be uglier for the girls who were raped and tossed out; bleeding, naked, and crying. The defense lawyer is not likely to be nice to them -- or me. I'll be working on some well-worded rants. This pervert isn't going to escape justice if I have anything to do with it!
I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
Day 98;
Wednesday, July 7, 2021:
I had to get up early and go to district court. I dressed in a demure white lacy dress that made me look very young and innocent. That was just for practice. The outcome of this hearing is pretty much set.
I was the last in line. His other victims, similarly dressed, and looking scared and devastated, recounted the horror that they had faced. When it was my turn, I was shaking. It was hard enough for me. It must have taken every bit of strength that the other girls had. Fortunately for them, the defense lawyer didn't cross-examine. There was no point.
Like I said, the results were pretty much set before we even arrived. The rapist would be held without bail. A jury trial was set for mid October. This allowed the prosecutor and defense to prepare their cases, but it also pushed the trial right into the next school year.
After the rapist was led away, and we left the court room, I was surrounded by the other girls. They all hugged me and wanted to thank me for catching the cause of their nightmares. The friends and family of the girls stood in a rough circle around us when this was going on. Then, they all had to express their gratitude. It was really quite overwhelming.
There was one older lady who seemed to be hanging back and surveying the situation. I wondered if she was a reporter, or maybe a court official. It turns out that she is the facilitator of the support group for the victims and their families. She invited me to join them, along with Jan and Joe. I hope the sessions are at different times, or it'll be difficult to arrange this. As it is, it's going to be difficult to come up with excuses for not attending the trial.
As we left the building, a group of reporters was just breaking up. Later, on the news, we saw the familiar picture of a man being led out in chains, doing his best to cover his face.
But this was the rapist. That put a whole new personal twist on it.
Anyhow, the reporters started to converge on us. The police deterred them and made a clear path for us to get to our cars. The names of most of the victims couldn't be divulged because they were minors, so we should be pretty safe from phone calls by overzealous reporters.
Day 99;
Wednesday, July 8, 2021:
I'm an emotional wreck again today. I held myself together when I had to, but now I'm falling apart. Luckily, Jan is home today. I don't know what I would do without her.
Day 113;
Thursday, July 22, 2021:
And again it comes. And again I bleed.
This time, I saved up a few hours of heavy labor. I might end up dipping into my growing cache of Joe time, but it's worth it. I would rather be sweating and doing heavy work than bloating and cramping and bleeding. Besides, my Joe form is starting to get lean and muscular. I think it turns Jan on. Maybe watching me work hard and get sweaty will get her all hot and bothered for tomorrow morning.
At one hour, I knew that I was now out of my freebie time. At two hours, I could tell that I was dipping into my banked time. Who needs a clock, eh? At three hours, something else happened. I couldn't quite tell, but the impression I got was "reset". After a little more than three hours of picking up rocks and tossing them on to the trailer, I walked into that little tent that I put up. I dropped my sweaty clothes to the ground and shifted. To my surprise, there was no cramps. No bloating. No bleeding!
Day 135;
Friday, August 13, 2021:
Wait a minute! This can't be right. I'm four days early. Well, at least I know how to fix it.
I guess what's happening is that any time over three hours spent in a particular form will cause the other form to reset. My Joe form always comes with a perfect brush cut and a clean-shaved face. Apparently, if I spend three hours as Joe, then Tiffany will come back to a particular part of the cycle. This could be useful later. Shoot, this is useful right now.
Day 142;
Friday, August 20, 2021:
Jan and I went down to the middle school to get me registered. The most difficult part was convincing them to enroll me into the advanced classes. The guidance counselor, Mr. Spencer, though he didn't come out and say it, didn't seem to think that girls needed to bother themselves with advanced classes. Of course, Doctor Jan had a few things to say about that. Finally, he relented, allowing me to sign up for algebra, advanced science, social studies, music, and college English. I also had to take a half a year each of physical education and home economics.
Day 143;
Saturday, August 21, 2021:
Jan should have started her period yesterday.
Oops! If my appendectomy scar is gone, it probably means that I still have my appendix. Maybe my vas deference is fixed, too. Oh crap!
Day 145;
Monday, August 23, 2021:
Still no period. Jan took me to one of her colleagues for testing. I shifted to Joe form just before getting out of the car (I was already dressed appropriately). I gave a sample, and my sperm count was zero. I sat around for three hours and gave another sample. This time, there were a few pollywogs in there. Not enough for conception, though.
That definitely answers another question. My reset Joe form starts out with no facial hair, no plaque on the teeth, and no sperm cells swimming in the seminal vesicle. If I want to get Jan pregnant again, I'll have to stay in my Joe form for a while first. That's a definite relief.
Day 146;
Tuesday, August 24, 2021:
I never thought I would be so glad to see the period start. Jan has my sincere sympathies, though. Hopefully, our mysterious benefactors will soon give her the same advantages that they gave me.
Day 149;
Friday, August 27, 2021:
School starts in a couple weeks. I wonder if I'm ready. It's been a long time since I attended any classes.
Theoretically, I should have no problems. After all, I have a high school diploma and a college degree. For sure, math and science are going to be easy classes. English ought to be relatively simple, too. Music will be fun. Home economics will be a mixed bag. I can cook well enough, but I have no idea how to sew. This new body of mine ought to do OK in gym, though I have no real sports skills. Social studies is going to be the class that will require the most effort. I don't think I remember anything from my old history and geography classes.
Physically, I'm ready to go. If I dress right, I look like a genuine eighth grader -- sort of. I look like an eighth grader who has developed physically a bit more than her peers. I will have to make sure that I dress down a bit.
As promised, my physical development is pretty much complete. Both of my bodies are healthy, strong, and mature.
My Joe body is still 5' 11 1/2" tall, but my weight is down to 195 pounds. My musculature is a bit better developed than it was when I was in college and working out five days a week. I have a full head of hair (a brush cut) and no wrinkles, but I still somehow look like I'm in my 30s or 40s.
My tiffany body is 5' 7" tall, with a C bust and plenty of curves. Since my legs are proportionately longer, they are actually the same length as my Joe legs. That means that I can wear the same sweat pants on both bodies. Also, I have some men's jeans that are designed for mature men (with a bit more room in the seat) that fit both bodies reasonably well. My favorite 'shift clothes', however, are the bib coveralls that I have. They are supposed to look loose. On top, I can use sweat shirts or t-shirts that fit well. They are quite long on my Tiffany body, but that's no big deal. I have to deal with the bra before switching back and forth, but it is otherwise not much of a problem.
Jan and I had to carefully choose some school girl styled clothes that tend to hide my curves. I really don't want to attract too much attention. When I'm wearing them, I really look like an eighth grade girl.
But I'm not the only one getting new clothes. With plenty of encouragement from me, Jan is dressing up her new, improved body. It took me a while to talk her into it, but she is now getting a nice assortment of shorter skirts and dresses. I told her that if I can wear them, she can wear them. She wanted to disagree, but she really couldn't come up with a valid argument.
It's easy to wonder why our mysterious benefactors are going all-out to make us look good, but it really isn't that hard to figure out. If you're going to design and build a car, are you going to design an ugly one, or a beautiful one? Similarly, since they have a lot of creative control over how we look, and they have knowledge of what we like, they are doing the logical thing. As an engineer, I can understand that.
Part Two: School Days
Wednesday, September 8, 2021:
The day started out easily enough. As usual, Jan and I got up and got the kids ready for school. We all walked down to the bus stop at the corner. It's the same quarter mile walk that either Jan or I took every school day since we moved up here. The difference is that, instead of walking home, I got on the bus with the kids. It's my first day of school, too. I don't get to walk home and spend some special time with Jan.
Still, I need to do this in order to learn how to be an authentic young lady. I need to understand the school culture, and I need to be able to fit in with my age group. I don't know why, exactly, but I'm confident that it's necessary. I don't know what God's plan is for us (my family), but I recognize the necessity for growth.
Did you ever have a dream (or nightmare) where you are back in school, and maybe about to take a test, but don't know a thing?
So here I am, dressed in a light knee-length skirt with matching leggings, a blouse, and flat shoes. My backpack contains a single tri-fold folder with dividers, a scientific calculator, tablet, old cell phone, new cell phone, and an assortment of pens and pencils.
The classes went well enough. I decided that it would be best if I don't attract much attention. With that in mind, I sat near the middle of the class and busily took notes -- not that there are many notes to take on the first day.
Friday, September 18, 2021:
Well, the first full week of school is over. In that time, all of the teachers managed to find time to give us a quiz. Mrs. Troybrange, my algebra teacher, gave out two quizzes. She gave us one last Thursday (the second day of school) just to find out what we all know. There was much griping, even though she explained that the quiz wouldn't count toward our grade.
I was trying to decide whether I should purposely blow some questions, or ace it. I didn't want to attract undue attention by knowing more than expected, but being dishonest just doesn't sit well with me. In the end, when she asked me where I learned all that stuff, I said that I had received some home schooling. That was only partly deceptive because I have done a whole lot of learning at home in the past several years.
I did well on the second quiz, too, of course. This stuff is pretty simple.
Wednesday, September 23, 2021:
I'm doing well in all of my classes. I need to pay attention and read the text in social studies class, but I can get by with just skimming the rest. Music is a lot of fun. I have always loved music, but I never took any formal classes. It's ironic that it took a trip back to eighth grade for me to take a music class.
Phys Ed is easy enough with this body. It certainly isn't any more of a physical challenge than I routinely face on our little hobby farm. It takes some practice to learn the physical skills and reflexes for the various games and exercises, but that's no big deal.
Monday, October 11, 2021:
Despite my efforts to keep a low profile, I'm being noticed. While class participation is mandatory, I manage to keep it to a bare minimum. I keep my voice calm, and rarely volunteer. Still, the tests and quizzes get the teachers' attention, and my calm demeanor and history of always having the correct answers has managed to get the attention of my fellow students. I suppose the gift from our mysterious benefactors has something to do with it, too. I am dressing modestly, but nothing I wear is likely to hide the artistry of those who designed this body that I inhabit. Still, if I continue in my attempt to be unobtrusive, and do nothing to seek attention, I should be able to eventually fade into the background.
Wednesday, October 13, 2021:
Today is the big day. Jury selection is done, and they are calling the witnesses in.
Making this voluptuous body look demure and virginal is going to be a challenge. Still, with some help, we got it figured out. I am wearing a lacy dress that isn't tight anywhere, has a high neck, and goes just below my knees. I don't want to show too much leg, but I also don't want a formal-looking long dress. Young innocent girls generally wear short dresses. White leggings added to the 'young and innocent' look. I also wore a little makeup, but it was applied to make me look young, dewy-eyed, and innocent. They called it 'make down'.
The trial was ugly, as I predicted. They started by going through a bunch of DNA evidence. The rapist's DNA was found in all of the victims, except for me. They found his pubic hairs in their clothes and on their bodies. They found the girls' clothes, hair, and skin flakes in the van and in the rapist's apartment (where he had a stash of souvenirs). They ended it with the recording I had made, along with some testimony from an expert witness who said that he analyzed the voices, and that they match.
Then, it was my turn. I gave my well-rehearsed accounting of the attempted rape. I didn't have to fake the shaky voice and sniffles. Then, the recording was played again. It was stopped frequently so that I could describe what happened at each point.
Of course, I left out the part about shifting to Joe. All they need to know is that I surprised him by kneeing him in the groin, then I got the upper hand and doused him with pepper spray.
Then, the dreaded cross-examination came.
"You were dressed seductively, weren't you?"
"No, I wasn't," I replied. "Besides, since when does dressing prettily excuse someone?" I chose 'prettily' instead of 'attractively' or 'nicely' to stay as far away as possible from any synonym of 'sexy'.
"Did you do anything to lead him on?"
"How could I? He grabbed me from behind and threw me into his filthy van! After that, all I did was cower in the corner -- that is, I cowered until I realized that it was up to me if I didn't want to get raped. But then, you heard the recording. You know what happened after that."
I had been trying to hold it together, but I realized that it was useless. I started sobbing at that point, and the jury just looked disgustedly at the lawyer. The lawyer released me and the prosecutor called his next witness.
It got really ugly after that. The prosecutor was kind and considerate, but he had to ask the questions. The defense lawyer was ruthless in his attempt to make the witnesses lose credibility.
Finally, all the witnesses had been called. Recess was called for the day, and the jury would start deliberations in the morning. After we all filed out, the support group facilitator lead us all to a comfortable room to recover. We were assured that the worst was over, and that the jury would have no choice but to find him guilty.
Thursday, October 14, 2021:
We were all in court again. The jury filed out for deliberations. It took them all of ten minutes to return a verdict of guilty. We all hugged each other as the author of our nightmares was led away in chains. Sentencing is set for next month.
Tuesday, October 19, 2021:
Now, my gym and swimming teachers are getting into the act. My gym teacher wants me to try out for the volleyball team, and my swimming teacher wants me to try out for the swim team.
OK, so volleyball is kind of fun on occasion. That changes when you take it seriously and feed all of your life time into the hungry maw of athletic perfection. I simply don't want the stress. I also have better things to do with my time than to spend it honing some skills that have little practical application. I would rather ride my horse or exercise my creativity in front of the computer while making some money.
Swimming is more appealing, but it would still take way too much of my time. I love the water, but I'm just not that interested in proving how fast I can go. Give me a pair of flippers, and I'll outswim anyone on the team. Anyhow, I told the teachers that being a part of a team is a big commitment, and that I can't make that kind of a commitment without failing in other commitments.
Friday, October 22, 2021:
I'm beginning to really like Mrs. Troybrange, my algebra teacher. She seems to understand that I just want to quietly take the class without drawing any attention to myself. She still calls upon me to participate in the class, but she doesn't single me out. She also doesn't make a fuss about my test scores.
I had kind of noticed before, but now it's obvious that she's pregnant. I think the other kids just assume that she's fat, but anyone who has been with a pregnant woman up close and personal can definitely see the signs. The rounded shape of her belly, and the fact that it appears firm instead of floppy are strong indicators that she will soon be cradling an infant.
Tuesday, October 26, 2021:
I was walking to lunch when I overheard some of the other kids gossiping. Apparently, someone had started a rumor that there is a cross-dresser in the school. There is a boy who is dressing like a girl and using the girls' locker room. The school adults know about it, but aren't doing anything about it. One of the boys sneered and pointed at me. "I'll bet it's her!" The girl walking next to me jumped just a bit at the sudden rudeness of the boy.
I almost panicked, but I calmed myself down quickly enough. "You think so, eh?" Then, I suggested that he ask some of the girls in my gym class. He said that he would like to have a look himself, but I just snorted. "You wish."
"You see? She's acting like a boy!"
I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to point out that he's acting like a gossipy girl.
Later, as I was getting dressed for gym, I noticed that people were sneaking peeks at me. In gym, I was uncomfortably aware of the stares. If my sense of humor hadn't abandoned me, I would have rolled up a sock and stuck it in my shorts.
But I don't need that accusation. It's close enough to the truth that I really need to remove all doubt. With that in mind, I purposely got undressed as far from the shower as possible, grabbed my soap and shampoo, and paraded past most of the girls on my way to get washed. I took a long shower. A number of people came in, showered, and left while I was washing up. Finally, I wandered back and dressed in my regular clothes. That should take care of that little rumor.
Thursday, October 28, 2021:
Jan is picking me up after school so that we can go on a date. Of course, I don't call it that when I'm in school.
I went to the locker room to change clothes. There are no sports teams practicing after school today, so I was surprised to hear a shower running. Soon, the shower stopped and I could hear someone walking out of the showers. She came out, then turned around and ran back in. Oh my gosh! The rumors are true! It's that new girl... what's her name? Oh yeah.
"Hi Myra", I called.
She came back out with a towel wrapped around her body. Her face was as red as a beet. "Don't worry. I won't out you," I assured her.
She looked like she was about to cry. She composed herself as she was getting dressed. Then, she walked shyly over. I think it took all her courage. "Thank you", she said meekly.
I smiled at her and held out my hand. "Tiffany Miller", I said. "I'm new here, too."
She tried to smile back. She isn't afraid that I'll let her secret out, is she? She looks so sad and nervous. "Myra Jones. I'm pleased to meet you." She tried to make conversation as if nothing is wrong. "I think you're in my algebra class. Mom is making me take all the advanced placement classes. Algebra is so hard!"
I don't think that algebra is hard at all. In fact, it's one of my major skate classes. Of course, I can't tell her that algebra seems easy after going through the math classes that they make you take in engineering school.
She really looks like she needs a friend.
"Would you like to study it with me? My foster mom is taking me out for shopping and ice cream in a few minutes, but we can get together after school tomorrow." We exchanged phone numbers. Later that evening, Jan teased me about picking up junior high chicks.
Tuesday, November 2, 2021:
It turned out that Myra and I were in a lot of the same classes. I wonder why I never noticed that before. Maybe she's better at fading into the background than I am.
I found out that she picks up on stuff pretty well. It didn't take much instruction on my part to get her caught up. What she mainly needed was confidence. I guess that's pretty hard when what's left of your world is falling apart.
We learned a lot about each other over the past few days. I had to be careful about what I said, of course. It's really hard to feel good about making a friend when you have to hide so much about who you are. And what's a 41 year old man doing making friends with a junior high girl, anyhow?
But it's not Joe that's her friend. It's Tiffany. Tiffany is very much the young teen-age girl. Tiffany is learning how to be a proper teen-age girl, just like Myra is learning how to be a proper teen-age girl.
I didn't lie to her, of course. I never gave her the cover story that the legal papers use. I never talk about my past at all. The time before I moved in with the Jeblonskis is simply never discussed. I let people draw their own conclusions about why that is. She knows that Joe and Jan are my legal foster (not adoptive) parents. She knows that I'm adapting to my new life here.
Myra is spending a lot of time here. Her parents don't care. They are wrapped up in their own issues and in their divorce. And, even in the best of times, they were too involved in their professional careers to worry about their marriage or family. They had other priorities.
Myra is the youngest of four. Her two big brothers and her big sister are all out on their own. Neither her mom or dad seem particularly interested in having custody of her. They say that they love her, but their actions speak louder than that. They both want to be done with raising kids. They got three out of the house, but hey, there's still one left.
I had discussed this with Jan. We all love Myra, but she is clinging a little too closely to me. She needs more friends. We started by including her in some of our family outings. That way, instead of just being with me, she is interacting with the whole family. She and John have gotten to be pretty good friends, and Jan enjoys having yet another girl to fuss over.
Thursday, November 4, 2021:
Myra has been riding home on the bus with us lately. She really doesn't have any life at home, so she comes here. She seems desperate for love and acceptance. She has taken to helping out with the farm chores. She does a good job. She didn't even need any help learning how to milk the goats. When I asked her about it, she smiled and told me about Ron and Rosie Farmington. Myra and her family had lived next to them until about two years ago, when her brother moved out and her parents moved to another house.
I know Ron and Rosie from church. They are a wonderful couple that raised five kids of their own. They also cared for countless foster kids, and adopted three special needs children. When the strange and unloved Mark Jones started coming over to play with their kids, they took him in and loved him. They encouraged him to help on their farm, which gave him a real sense of belonging. He didn't just eat at their house. He actually helped to put the food on the table.
"So that's who loved you!", I said to Myra. She gave me a puzzled look. "Nobody learns to be as warm and loving as you in a sterile atmosphere. To love, you need to be loved. Ron and Rosie are the people who gave you the gift of love."
Myra smiled and said, "I never thought of it that way!"
* * * * *
Interlude
Vrall walked into the room. "I got your message. How did it happen that you added a person to the integration plan?"
Snrxl replied, "I didn't add her. Tiffany and her family did."
Vrall looked at him questioningly.
"Tiffany met young Myra Jones a few days ago, and they have become good friends. Tiffany sympathizes with her because she has gender dysphoria, and the rest of Tiffany's family have quite fallen in love with her."
"Gender dysphoria?", asked Vrall
"Myra has a male body, but a female soul. That happens in our culture, but our technology makes treatment a trivial issue. In their society, the clash between the gender of the soul and the gender roles demanded by society result in some real soul-crippling pain. It gets so bad that many of them opt for hormone treatments and primitive surgery just to take on the outward appearance of their true gender."
"What are your plans, Snrxl?"
"Well, I have already done all the scans and set up a primary and secondary body for her. I am also taking the precaution of teaching Tiffany how to implement those changes via her implant. Myra is in real danger."
"In danger? Why?"
"Well, " replied Snrxl, "Many transsexuals get murdered when they are found out by their peers. It is considered by many to be an extreme form of perversion."
Vrall could only frown. It's hard to not be shocked when one learns of the atrocities of a primitive culture.
I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
There is some violence in this installment. It is brief, off-stage, and resolves well.
Friday, November 5, 2021:
I had a really strange dream last night. The strangest part is that I remember it so clearly. Dreams normally fade very soon after we wake up, but this one stayed with me.
I was looking at my Tiffany body. Somehow, I could see it from all sides at once. I could also see the internal organs, and even some of the programming of the brain. I could focus in and see anything I want in detail. Then, I saw my Joe body the same way. The brain was mostly identical to my Tiffany brain, except for some gender-specific programming or, rather, neural pathways.
Then I saw, or rather sensed, my soul. My soul was male, but it also had some female characteristics. Those characteristics have always been there, but my recent experience has made them come out into the open -- making me a more complete person. None of my maleness was muted. I am no less male now than I was in the past. Still, I have grown, and become more balanced. This experience made me sad for those who are stuck with one identity. When I thought of Myra, I became really sad.
Later, I noted that I could move my soul to one or the other body. After that, I woke up.
I stood up and shifted to my Joe body briefly in lieu of a shower. When I did that, the vision of moving my soul to my Joe body came to mind. When I switched back, the vision came to mind again.
Saturday, November 6, 2021:
The dream returned, but this time it was followed by another. Instead of my own body, I saw Myra's. I didn't see her current body, but a fully female body with all of the appropriate plumbing and neural pathways. Next, a male version of her appeared. It wasn't the hormone-modified body that she now wears, but an idealized male body that was in no way modified by female hormones.
Then, I saw the body she now wears, but it was faded and imperfect. Inside that body is her soul -- a truly female soul. She is, indeed, a female trapped in a male body. I tried to move her soul into her idealized female body, but a voice that isn't a voice stopped me. "Not yet. Soon, but not yet. It will happen, but it can't happen now."
Monday, November 8, 2021:
Myra looked on the verge of crying today. I did my best to be there for her, but she was really focusing inward. It wasn't until we got home that I found out what happened.
The divorce is final. Myra's mom and dad are no longer married.
Without so much as a "good bye", Myra's mom left for Oregon. She had already sent all of her worldly belongings there. Everything was moved into her boyfriend's house. In the courthouse, she took the check for her part of their joint property, walked out, and took a taxi to the airport. She didn't even look at Myra, let alone say "good bye".
That must have hurt.
Myra's father drove her home in silence. When they got there, she saw a for sale sign on the front lawn. Her dad will be moving to New York City in a week to start his new job. Myra is being enrolled into a military school about five hundred miles from here. It is costing her dad a pretty penny -- much more than the child support payments that will be sent by her mother. Still, it is worth it to him to not have to worry about raising his daughter who was his son.
She tried to put a bold front on it, but was soon bawling on my shoulder. I tried to console her, but what could I say? Soon, she cried herself out and just slumped on to my bed. I pulled her shoes off, rolled her all the way on to the bed, and covered her up. She was soon sleeping.
I found Jan and talked to her about it. She was appalled as I was. An all boy military school? What is this man thinking? Does he think that they'll somehow turn her female soul into a male soul?
It didn't take long for us to understand that we had to act. We both agreed that Myra is now a part of the family. The guest room that she used a couple times can now be hers. We hatched a plan, then called her dad. When we pointed out to him that he could save lots of money by fostering her to us, he was only too happy to sign her over.
Tuesday, November 9, 2021:
Jan called our lawyer just as soon as he got into the office. He took it from there and made an appointment for us all to see the judge and get everything straightened out. He had to point out to the court that Myra's dad would be moving to New York next week, so the appointment had to be soon. Fortunately, the judge is very familiar with the case, and has a good heart.
Thursday, November 11, 2021:
I had to use up a few hours of Joe time today. As Tiffany, I walked the boys to the bus stop, but I turned around and left before the bus came. I hid out in my office as Jan prepared Myra for the appointment. Then, when it was time to leave, I shifted to my Joe body, put on a suit, and drove us all to the courthouse. Myra's dad, the two lawyers, and we sat in front of the judge and explained our case. The judge was pleased that we were willing to take care of Myra.
Much to the consternation of Myra's dad, the judge ordered him to pay child support based not on his current income, but the income he would be receiving as a Wall Street stock broker. Myra's mother is also paying child support to us, and it is based on her income as a lawyer out on the west coast.
It actually didn't take that long, and we considered taking Myra back to school to finish off the day. Instead, Jan drove us to Myra's old house. Under the watchful eye of her dad and a court officer, we removed all of her stuff. Her father didn't want her to take her computer or video games, but Myra stood her ground and pointed out that they were gifts. When I pointed out to him that he would have to move anything that Myra didn't take, he loaded us down with a bunch more stuff.
As we left her old house for the last time, her father didn't even look at her or say good bye. That had to hurt a lot, but she put on a happy face when we moved all of her stuff into her new room.
There will always be a mom and dad sized hole in her heart, but we will do our best to fill it for her.
Saturday, November 13, 2021:
I guess I should join the church youth group. John will do much better if I am there with him. Also, if I can get Myra involved, she will be sure to make lots of new friends. When it comes to loving someone into the fold, our church is the best.
We had just finished with our science homework when I broached the subject. I told her that we would be going to church this Sunday, then John and I would go roller skating with the youth group. She looked touched, but very nervous. She looked like she had just been invited to a place where she clearly doesn't belong. "If I were to set foot inside a church, it would cave in on me!"
OK, so I know where she's coming from. She isn't used to unconditional acceptance, and she feels sinful and dirty.
"Why?", I asked.
"Why? You ask why? You know what I am! The church hates my kind! I'm a freak! I'm a pervert! How can God love me? How can I ask those people to love me?"
Then, she put her head down and sobbed. I walked around the table and put my hand on her shoulder. I let her go until she had pretty much cried herself out.
"I love you and accept you. Jan loves you. Joe loves you. What makes you think that God won't love you even better?"
I know the answers. I know how she will answer, too. So, I ask the questions, let her come out with it, and then talk to her.
"But... I'm such a sinner!"
"So am I."
"You know what I mean! I'm trying to be something that I'm not! I'm polluting my body, and I plan to mutilate it just as soon as I can."
Yes, that pretty well sums up the standard attitude that all too many have about gender disorders. Still, the Bible has a different story to tell. I sat back down, then reached across the table and brushed a lock of hair from her face. I lifted her chin and looked at her. "Who am I? Who are you? Are we just bags of biological goo wrapped in a skin, or is there something else there?" There was a distinct lack of comprehension on Myra's face. "You don't have to study much biology or biochemistry to figure out that what we call life is little more than a very complex bunch of chemical reactions. As you study the more complex multicellular organisms, you see everything from the rudimentary control systems of things like worms and bugs up to the more complex control systems contained that are the brains of mammals."
Myra asked, "Are we studying science now?"
I continued, "Most behavior can be attributed to nothing more than a complex control system. Many say that even our most complex human behavior can be attributed to that, but others see our appreciation for beauty, our ability to write a symphony, or our ability to design a jet or computer as proof that there is something else there -- something that can't be explained away by a gob of gray goo that was originally designed do little more than your typical industrial robot's control box."
"What do you think?," I asked.
"We have a soul," Myra replied.
"I think so, too. So does God. Here, let me lay a little scripture on ya.
I googled up the scripture on my tablet:
1 Samuel 16:7 New International Version (NIV)
7 But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”
See? God agrees with you! Those who disagree can tell you that your gender is determined by what's between your legs, but anyone who believes that you have a spirit or soul has to agree that there is more to it than that."
"And those who go to church have to believe that I have a soul!"
I smiled. "Right you are! We Christians believe that we are spirit, and that we just wear this flesh while we are here on Earth. One day, we will cast off this imperfect flesh. Then, who cares what was attached to it?"
"But they're going to see things differently," Myra pointed out.
"They might -- it depends on the person. Still, it's not like you're going to strip down to your altogether in front of them. They'll see what you want them to see. What do you want them to see?" I looked straight at her. "What are you? Are you a boy who is trying to be a girl, or are you a girl who is trying to be the person that she was meant to be?"
She looked a bit shocked that I would ask that question, but then a smile slowly came to her face.
"To gain any level of peace and happiness," I told her, "You have to come to love who you are inside, and be totally convinced in your own mind that you really are the person you are trying to portray. It's OK to have doubts and concerns about how others see you, but you must have no doubts about who you really are inside."
"I was born with a boy's body. I had all the hormones and body parts of a boy. I tried to be a boy, but it just didn't fit. It would have been so much easier if I could have been what my body was born to be." There was a tear in her eye.
"Instead," I said, "You are what your soul was created to be. Our bodies are products of this fallen world, but our spirits are the breath that God has breathed into us -- our true essence."
"So I really am a girl..."
"Myra, if you listen to the people who don't know you, and try to change what's inside to match what's outside, you're doing it backwards."
She looked up at me as if a new light had just come on.
"It's not a lie! I'm not a lie! It's not me that's lying, it's my body!"
I held her as she sobbed uncontrollably. This was the kind of breakthrough I was looking for.
"God doesn't make mistakes, but this fallen world produces things like birth defects, cerebral palsy, ADHD, autism, Down's syndrome, and yes, gender dysphoria."
She had a hard time taking all of that in, but she's a smart girl. She understood enough to see that she isn't condemned. You could almost see a load being lifted off of her back. Yes, Jesus does carry our burdens for us.
It is our custom to pray over all of the children once they are put to bed. I changed to Joe to do that, as is my custom. Jan and I prayed over Myra, too.
It just happens that my room and Jan's room are not visible from the other rooms. That made it possible for me to sneak in to sleep with Jan once everyone was tucked in.
Sunday, November 14, 2021:
Myra did come to church with us. She was very attentive in Sunday school, and seemed to understand what was going on. That is probably Ron and Rosie's doing
She did well in church. That is, she sang with us. She has a lovely voice. She listened attentively to the sermon and even enjoyed talking to everyone afterwards. When we went to youth group, we all had a good time. A few of them privately commented to me that they were glad to see me finally join.
Monday, November 15, 2021:
The strange dreams are back. I'm beginning to wonder if they are really dreams. It looks like I am being trained. I am learning about the technology that our mysterious benefactors used to turn me into Tiffany. I'll try to explain what I have learned. It's difficult because some of the concepts don't translate readily into words.
Imagine some of our ancestors rubbing amber with silk to create static electricity. How much of a jump in imagination would it take to imagine that the stuff they are playing with would eventually lead to the computer, or even the light bulb?
There is a kind of a potential that acts like a pattern. We aren't even at the level of rubbing amber with silk, but they have a full-blown technology based on it. They use those fields or potentials to pull some formless matter/energy (dark matter? dark energy?) from somewhere and form it into the bodies that I wear. To actually create the pattern requires a bunch of computing power, and the supervision of someone with the equivalent of a doctor's degree. There is no way that I am going to be creating any patterns anytime soon.
Also, it turns out that we are actually three-part beings. The real 'you' is your spirit. Little is known about that, since there is really no way of imaging or detecting it. The only thing that they could tell me is that God is a spirit, and that a spirit is necessary for a sapient and self-aware soul to exist. The soul is kind of a wrapper for the spirit, or an interface between the spirit and the body. It is the soul that contains (or perhaps expresses) a lot of what makes us what we are. It is our soul that is male or female. All souls contain a combination of male and female traits, and it is the balance of them that makes one male or female (or, maybe somewhat androgynous). Souls can change. Souls can grow.
When I switch from one body to the other, I am pulling my soul and the pattern together. The pattern sends the matter from the old body into the void, and uses the dark matter or whatever to create a new body. That is why I always end up with a fresh, new body when I shift. The mysterious voice that isn't an audible voice taught me how to shift someone else, and warned me that it might be necessary in the future.
After school, I decided to do some research. Some of the information that I received last night sounds vaguely familiar. I looked up information on things like NAET, Homeopathy, accupuncture, accupressure, kinesiology, Morphogenetic fields, naturopathy, and other metaphysical and alternative medicine information. I also read some essays written by the skeptics.
It was amusing, in a way. There is a fine line between a crackpot and an innovator. For instance, tectonic plate theory was definitely considered to be a crackpot theory until a mechanism was found, and other evidence was discovered.
That's how science works, of course. A scientist will form a theory, devise a test, sort through the data that comes from that test, and attempt to come to some kind of a conclusion. The cycle is then repeated. Other disciplines are not so rigid. In general, you go with what works, and maybe devise an explanation later. If bread mold helps cure infections, and you have no idea that there is a chemical called penicillin, you may come up with an explanation that involves spirits or humors or something.
So, when I started reading about energy flows and life forces, I had to remind myself that they are not rigorously applying the scientific method, but are simply trying to explain the unexplainable.
But the nay-sayers are just as amusing. On the one hand, they discount the idea that the mind can have an effect on the body. On the other hand, they blame the placebo effect for any cases where the treatments seem to work. What is the placebo effect, if not a rigorously documented example of the mind's ability to affect the body?
Anyhow, after a bunch of study, I still couldn't tell how much of the alternative medical methods work due to the pattern potentials, and how much is pure crackpottery. Homeopathy looks like a good bet, though.
Wednesday, November 17, 2021:
There are three boys in school that are harassing Myra and me. They are accusing us of being lesbians, of being boys in disguise, and a number of other things. They are miffed because neither of us are interested in dating them. I told them that I'm really not interested in a junior high romance. Myra is following my lead.
I'm starting to get worried. They are getting angry, and I worry that they might get violent. I'm confident that I can take care of myself, but Myra could get hurt badly. The hormones that she is taking don't do good things for her strength.
Thursday, November 18, 2021:
There has been a lull in my business, so I decided to do more research on gender disorders.
While the clinical studies and dry reports are informative, it's the stories that really hit you in the gut. I read the true stories of boys who grew up confused. They tried to do what was expected of them, but always envied the girls and their pretty clothes. I read story after story about the agony of being in the wrong place. Some decided at an early age that they needed to change, while others fought it and even went as far as to get married and raise a family -- only to later realize that their attempts to be male were nothing more than a sham. Some gritted their teeth and kept going, while others finally succumbed to what they felt to be their true selves, and started on the hormone treatments.
The fiction was equally telling. The fantasies of being given the gift of femaleness by Santa or a genie or some machine indicated the depth of their despair and desire.
Friday, November 19, 2021:
Myra had to stay after school to make up a test. She assured me that she can walk home, and that the three mile walk would do her good. Why am I such a worry-wart? She's not a little kid, after all. She's older than John by a few months.
I was lounging in the over sized sweats that I wear when I want to shift easily when that voice that's not a voice spoke to me. "Myra needs your help!" I sprung up, pulled on the thick slippers that I use for padding, and then pulled on my Joe-sized running shoes. I grabbed a large hooded jersey and bolted out the door.
"Where?"
The voice led me down the driveway and toward the bus stop There, in the secluded area where we wait for the bus, I saw three people kicking something on the ground.
I shifted to my Joe body on the run. I have never tried it on the run before, and nearly fell. My feet hurt because of the slippers, and the bra constricted my chest. Still, I wasn't about to try to fight those three as Tiffany.
They saw me coming and ran off. I shifted back and knelt down. Myra was laying naked in the snow, bruised and bloody. Her groin area was nothing but a mass of raw hamburger. I felt for a pulse. Her body suddenly went into convulsions. I fought back the tears. I have seen those convulsions before when butchering animals. I have seen the final death throes of an animal that has just lost the last of its blood.
What can I do but pray? As I put my hands on her head, the image of her new female body appeared. The voice said "Shift her now!" I did so. Her new body appeared, naked in the snow. All she had on were her shoes.
The voice said, "Take her home. You have email."
Myra woke up, shivered, started to cry, and passed out. I could tell that she was OK, though. I pulled off my hooded jersey and put it on her.
As Joe, I was able to lift her and get her dressed. I took a little time to pull my shoes and slippers off, stuff the slippers into my pocket, and then put the shoes back on. I lifted her and cradled her just like the sheriff had done for me at the car wreck. She opened her eyes again and I smiled at her, assuring her that she was safe. I carried her home. She was still shivering when I laid her on her bed. "Don't leave me!", she said as I went to walk out the door.
"I'm getting Tiffany." When I saw her frightened look, I added, "Don't worry. You're safe here."
I dashed to my room and pulled off my shirt. I shifted, redid my bra, and put on one of my Tiffany shirts. It took all of thirty seconds.
Myra was in rough shape. I let her cry on my shoulder and talk about what happened.
Apparently, the same three boys that were harassing us in school followed her home. As soon as they got to the secluded area by the bus stop, they jumped her and started to call her a wimp, girly-boy, and a whole bunch of unprintable names. They ripped her clothes off while beating her up, then started to kick her in the groin as soon as it was exposed. By the time I came by, she had passed out from the pain.
She looked at me. "Your foster dad is such a dreamboat! He came and rescued me and carried me home and brought me my best friend to help me."
"He's your foster dad too, you know."
It still hadn't sunk into her head that she was OK.
After she had cried herself out, I led her to the shower and pulled the jersey off. She stepped under the warm water and soaped herself as if trying to wash away all the pain and humiliation. What does she have left? She can't even go back to that school.
There was a gasp, then an excited cry. "Tiffany! Tiffany! Look! I'm a girl! I'm a real girl! It's a miracle!"
That wasn't quite the same reaction I had when I found myself changed. I couldn't help but to grin.
She rinsed off, grabbed a towel, and ran to the full-length mirror in her room. She just stared at herself, not really allowing herself to believe it.
"Yes, Myra, you really are a girl. You're a girl down to your very soul, and now you have a body to match."
I didn't know where to go from there. What should I tell her? Then, I remembered that the voice had told me that I have email. I ran to my room to get my laptop, and was back in a jiffy. Myra was still staring at the mirror when I booted up and synchronized my email through the wireless network.
Dear Tiffany:
Your compassion has brought another person to the team. Though she was an unplanned addition, she is none the less very welcome. You appear to have great taste in friends.
You should let Myra know everything. In fact, after briefing her, you might want to let her read your journal.
She will be staying in her new female body for a while, but will eventually need to try on her male body. She will never be forced to stay there, so she need not worry.
Also, don't worry about any future attacks from the three boys. We will take care of them.
When I was done reading the email, I noticed that she was still looking in the mirror with an expression of disbelief.
"Yes, Myra, it's really true. I have been living it for the better than half a year, and it isn't going away."
She looked at me questioningly.
"Last April, I woke up to the shock of my life. I had been changed into a little girl as I slept. It took me months to truly become the Tiffany that you see before you."
"You mean, you're not really Tiffany?"
"Yes, I am really Tiffany! I wasn't born that way, but I'm Tiffany now -- just like you were born Mark, but became Myra. The difference is that I can go back to my old identity. You will be able to go back to your old identity if you want to as well."
She shook her head. "No. I don't want to go back. Please tell me that I don't have to go back!"
I smiled at her. "You don't have to go back, Myra. Then, I showed her the email. After that, I stood up and removed my top and bra. "I'm not one to do strip shows, but we can pretend that it's just us girls in the locker room."
The "us girls" part made Myra smile.
While I had her attention, I shifted to my Joe body. She reflexively grabbed the towel to cover up. I shifted back. "I have already seen both of your new bodies -- inside and out."
After she put on her night gown, we sat and chatted for a little while. She was still somewhat in shock, but she also had a level of peace and happiness that I have never seen in her before. She finally yawned and crawled between the covers. I shifted to my Joe form and prayed over her. She was asleep before I left her room.
I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
* * * * *
Interlude
Jack, Harry, and Jock were drinking beer and laughing about how they beat the crap out of that cross-dressing pervert when they saw a bright light outside the front door. They went to investigate, and immediately felt their feet leave the ground. They tried to escape, but couldn't do a thing about it. They floated into what looked like a flying saucer -- kicking and screaming all the way.
Once they were all the way inside, the door closed. They felt their clothes being pulled from them as if by invisible hands. They stood naked, scared, and shivering.
A deep voice came from nowhere. "You killed Myra Jones. If we had not intervened, she would still be dead."
Putting on false bravado, Harry said "You mean 'he'. Myra is no girl!"
"Myra's soul is that of a girl. You have no idea what it's like to be trapped in a body that doesn't fit who you are, but you are about to find out!"
Instantly, all three became short, fat, and pimply-faced girls with scruffy hair and cracked fingernails. Full-length mirrors appeared in front of them.
They started to cry. Really, they couldn't help it. "Please don't leave us this way. We'll do anything!"
They sat there for several hours, not knowing what was going to happen. The thought that they may end up being short fat girls for the rest of their lives started to really sink in.
"If you want your old bodies back, you must agree to do three things!"
"Anything!," the three agreed in unison.
"First, you must each write a sincere letter of apology to Myra."
That would be easy enough.
"Second, you must each buy her a gift that we will specify. Understand that it will take all the money that you each have been saving."
That was more difficult, but what choice is there?
"Finally, you must tell anyone who asks that she is a real girl. That is not a lie, since we turned her body into that of a real girl, just like we did to your bodies."
The three girls felt themselves being lifted and pushed out of the flying saucer. "Remember, if you don't do as you promised, you will be changed back."
They were then deposited in a heap, along with their clothes, on to the front lawn. When they got up, they realized that they were boys again.
It was getting light out. They ran into the house before anyone could see them.
* * * * *
Saturday, November 20, 2021:
Jan, Myra, and I went clothes shopping. Myra needed some new clothes to fit her new body. Jan was only too happy to help. I just went along for the ride.
Myra was happy to toss the bird seed from her falsies to the chickens. Now, she is getting a bunch of new bras to fit her newly modified torso. She can still wear a lot of her old skirts and tops, but her narrower waist and wider hips made it necessary to get some new pants. When we passed some swimsuits that were on sale, she just had to get some. She purposely chose styles that she could never wear before. Now, instead of hiding her 'unsightly bulge', she is choosing clothes that show off that newly flattened area. It may seem immodest, but I can hardly blame her. Besides, wearing clothes like that in gym and swimming is a sure way to squelch the rumors that she is a he.
After we got home from the store and stashed our loot, I printed a copy of my journal for her to read.
Sunday, November 21, 2021:
After a stressful week, there's nothing like a good church service to bring you home and make you realize what life is all about. We all had a lot to be thankful for today. We couldn't announce it to everyone, but God knows.
Myra, much to her delight, found that her singing voice is even lovelier than before. She has an effortless three octaves of full-voice range. She was all smiles for the entire day. A weight has truly been lifted from her heart.
Monday, November 22, 2021:
Myra and I were chatting before our first hour class when Jack, Harry, and Jock approached us. A mixture of fear and anger hit me in the pit of my gut. They didn't look hateful or aggressive, though. They looked ashamed, embarrassed, and just a little scared. One by one, they approached Myra, asked for her forgiveness, and handed her a card and a small, wrapped gift. I was in shock. What had our mysterious benefactors done to these boys? I hope I get to find out someday.
They all headed for their next class, so Myra and I ducked into our classroom early and just looked at each other in shock. She opened the cards first, and each contained a carefully worded and hand-written apology. The gifts turned out to be a set of diamond earrings, a necklace, and a brooch. Myra was all smiles when she put them on.
She wore her new suit in swim class. It's a sleek one-piece number with high hips and no place to hide a 'tuck job'. She told me later that she did the same thing that I did. She let a bunch of the girls in the locker room see her. Hopefully, that should squelch the rumors.
Thursday, November 25, 2021:
Happy Thanksgiving!
We have a lot to be thankful for this year. Myra is just bursting with joy, and was only too happy to share it all with my family.
My family kidded me about picking up strays, but they all love Myra. She fit right in, and was soon chatting with my nieces. When the musical instruments came out, she added her voice to the sing-along.
Monday, December 6, 2021:
Mrs. Troybrange had her baby this past weekend. I knew that she was getting along in her pregnancy, but I didn't know that she was that close.
Mr. Spencer will be substituting for her for the next three months. I hope he doesn't give Myra and me a hard time. His attitude about girls taking advanced science and math classes is well known.
Wednesday, December 8, 2021:
Myra and I have managed to get ahead in algebra class. She is more confident if she is already familiar with the material before the teacher presents it, so I help her out by looking ahead in the book and explaining the material. We had been multiplying polynomials, so the next step is to factor trinomials. Last night, I showed Myra a couple tricks so we would be ready for class today.
I like math, but Mr. Spencer has mastered the fine art of making anything boring. I passed the time by practicing my drawing. Myra diligently took notes, but I could tell that her heart wasn't into it. Suddenly, Mr. Spencer was standing over my desk. "Do you think this is art class, young lady?"
"No sir." It rarely does any good to make an excuse.
"Do you think that maybe you should take some notes?"
I really don't like his attitude, but I have to remember that I am a teenie-bopper, not an adult with an engineering degree. Still, I can't let him ridicule me.
"I already know how to factor a trinomial."
"Then maybe you would like to show the whole class how to do it." This yielded some snickers.
"Yes sir."
I walked up to the board and quickly wrote down one of the problems from the book. I carefully went through each step, showing the class the same tricks that I had shown Myra last night. When I was done, I put the chalk down and took my seat.
Thursday, December 9, 2021:
It's time to go to court again. As far as I'm concerned, all is over but the shouting. Still, the girls who went through hell with that rapist will be there, and I should be there too.
As expected, he got several life sentences without parole. The devastation on the faces of the girls, and the sickening nature of the recording made it difficult to give him anything but the max. As he was being led away in chains for the last time, I told the girls that he would never be back to plague anyone's life again. Then, we all went to the counseling room. I really wish I could help those girls break out of their private nightmares.
Friday, December 10, 2021:
The educational dreams are back again. I am learning a lot about how to use the technology in the field. I'm also learning a few things about the construction of the pattern for a body, but it'll take a whole lot more than a few nightly sessions to learn all the ins and outs.
I found out that our mysterious benefactors have made templates for everyone that Jan and I deeply love. I saw templates for my parents and grandparents, my brothers and sisters, and everyone else that is dear to me. This heartened me greatly.
I paid special attention to Jan's new forms. Her new female form is lovely. It's not all that different from the body she wears right now, except that all of the scars are gone, and her skin is smooth, tight, and totally wrinkle-free. Currently, she has no fine wrinkles, but her skin has some larger wrinkles because it hasn't shrunk down to her new size. Another difference is that the eyes on her new body are a more brilliant shade of green. Instead of the standard hazel-green, they are a bright emerald green..
Her male body looks to be about sixteen years old, and is well-muscled. Seeing that body when I'm in my Tiffany form does things to me. It looks like we're both going to have to make some adjustments when she wakes up in that body. Part of me is fearful, but part of me is excited.
Tuesday, March 1, 2022:
I haven't updated my journal in quite some time. Really, little exciting has happened. Life has settled down to a quiet routine.
My business picked up at the beginning of the year. It seems that everyone wants to get projects rolling right after Christmas vacation. This put me in a big time pinch because the school isn't going to listen to some student saying that she's busy running a business.
Fortunately, Myra was happy to learn how to do some routine coding. She's also quite artistic when it comes to laying out web pages. This, of course, inspired John to join in on the fun. Soon, the three of us were yelling across the house to bounce idea off of each other.
To make things easier, I spent this past weekend cleaning out one of the storage rooms in the basement, painting it with sealer, adding insulation to the walls, and building benches. Once everything was finished, I set up four work stations, the printers, the scanners, and the servers. Putting all of the computers into one room keeps the room warm enough. Now, we can all sit down there together and work in peace.
The extra money that came in from our mysterious benefactors (child support money and Tiffany's stipend) allowed us to pay off our debts early. Now, with the debts gone, Tiffany's child support and stipend money will handle all expenses. The money from my business can go into our income mutual funds, as well as give us extra money for fun stuff. Switching our health insurance to a special high deductible type that is only used for emergencies saved us a bunch of money. After all, Myra and I will never need medical attention, and it's not likely that anyone else will. Everyone has a template, and can be shifted to a new body if necessary.
So, Jan has put in for a one year sabbatical. She wants to stay home and enjoy her family. She wants to vacation with us all in the summer. Maybe we'll even do the circle tour of Lake Superior. John, Myra, and I can even work at our business while we're on the road. It's not an ideal vacation, but it beats staying home and working in the basement.
Myra's child support checks, by the way, are being deposited into a special mutual fund that she'll be able to access once she turns eighteen. We had been using some of it as an allowance for her, but she told us that she doesn't need it anymore. She likes using the money that she earns in our business. It looks like she's going to start life with a nice little nest egg. Also, she is learning how to take care of her money. And her mom and dad are still on the hook to get her through college.
Wednesday, March 2, 2022:
Mr. Spencer announced today that Mrs. Troybrange will be back next Monday. Myra and I are excited about it. We always liked her, and we're looking forward to chatting with her about her new baby. Jan assures me that she'll be only too happy to tell us all about her new little bundle of joy. She also suggested that we bring a gift.
We were wondering what to get her. Some baby bottles? Formula?
Jan pointed out that she will have plenty of that stuff already. Everyone gives new mothers that kind of stuff. She ought to know, since she's been there.
Myra and I looked at each other as the same thought came to both of us at once. Neither of us thought that we would ever be mothers, but we now have that ability. It's quite likely that Myra will get married and become a mom. I have already done the reproduction thing, so I have no plans of doing it myself. Still, who can tell? After Jan gets her male body, and after our current crop of kids has been sent out into an unprepared world, who can tell what will happen? After all, we have plenty of time.
But anyhow, what does a new mother who's just going back to work need? Jan tells me that she needs time and sanity.
So, we went down to the cellar and brought up a big box of assorted home-canned meals. We had truly instant meals like chicken soup, pasta with tomato and ground chevon, beef strogenoff, and lemon chicken. We also got some desserts, like apple sauce, canned peaches, cherry pie filling, and apple pie filling. We wrapped the box with a baby blanket, tied it up with a ribbon, and added a card.
Monday, March 7, 2022:
Mrs. Troybrange is back! Yay!
Mr. Spencer hadn't bothered us since the day that I factored that trinomial on the board, but the class was still uncomfortable. I was sure that he wouldn't give either of us a break. Fortunately for us, we didn't need one.
Mrs. Troybrange was really touched by our gift, especially when she found out that Myra and I had done a lot of the canning ourselves.
When some of the kids in the back started whispering things like "teacher's pet" and "brown nose", Mrs. Troybrange pointed out that Myra and I are already earning a solid "A", so we don't have any reason to try to butter anyone up.
Thursday, March 31, 2022:
Tomorrow marks he one year anniversary of our little adventure. It is far from over, I am sure.
Again, I haven't had anything to say in about a month. Things are settling down nicely. The excitement seems to be over for a while. Myra, of course, got to experience her first period in December. She was thrilled because it was the final proof that she's a real woman. After two more of them, she was somewhat less thrilled. That was when I told her how I managed to avoid them.
Ever since I had discovered that becoming Joe for three hours will reset my cycle, I have made it a point to spend a three hour session as Joe every three weeks or so.
By this time, Myra was intrigued by the idea of switching bodies. I put my hands on her and switched her to her (male) Mark body. I gave him a set of John's clothes and let him walk around the farm and enjoy his stronger body. When he asked me to switch him back, I told him to imagine his Myra body. It took a couple seconds for him to get the hang of it, but Myra was soon standing in front of me. She switched back and forth a couple times for practice, then put her girl clothes back on. I suggested to her that she work out and build some muscle in her Mark body, and reminded her of the time I was almost raped. She agreed readily enough, and started working three or four times a week.
Wednesday, April 1, 2022:
Happy April Fool's Day!
The joke was on me last year, and is on me again this year. While I wasn't paying attention, my loving family plotted. Jan found an excuse to drive me over to the church fellowship hall. For some reason, it was full of people.
"SURPRISE!", they yelled.
I was overwhelmed. I didn't realize that I knew that many people. Even my parents and grandparents made a special trip to come here. Also there were the girls that I met at court, their families, and the people that were involved in the accident. When I thought of all the people that I had touched as Tiffany, I could hardly keep my emotions in check. Our mysterious benefactors have not only given me a challenge and an opportunity to grow, they have improved, and even saved the lives of a number of people. They have given me a wealth of friends. It ended up being an all day birthday party with an 'April Fool' theme. I wonder if our mysterious benefactors gave Tiffany an April first birthday on purpose.
When evening came, all of the various musicians, and there were plenty, got out their instruments and we had a jam session.
Friday, April 15, 2022:
Happy tax day.
Actually, we got ours done early just to avoid the rush. With two extra Dependants, the business, and the child support payments, the paperwork was rather complicated this year.
But today is a good day for us, anyhow. We don't have to think about the taxes right now. We can concentrate on celebrating Jan's first day of sabbatical. We went out to our favorite Mexican restaurant and pigged out. I really wanted one of their giant strawberry margaritas, but I wasn't willing to use up any Joe time to get one. There is no way that I could get served as Tiffany. It's a small price to pay.
Part Three: Together
Monday, April 25, 2022:
As usual, I woke before Jan. I used to be the late sleeper, but my new Tiffany body requires no sleep for body maintenance. More accurately, my bodies (Tiffany and Joe) need no sleep if I switch bodies a couple times a day. My brain still needs sleep, though. One of the characteristics of a neural net computer is that it needs some downtime to work properly. Depending on the stress level, emotional level, and the amount of intellectual stimulation, I need anywhere from three to six hours of deep sleep every night.
Since it was only 4:00 in the morning, I went to my office and did a little administrative work. I reviewed the time sheets, billed the clients, and set up the list of tasks. I often recommend a task for either John or Myra, but I generally let them choose their own projects. Still, I often insist that they take on a project that will be educational to them. Also, everyone has to do their fair share of the boring projects -- except for the big boss... hee hee hee.
After setting everything up for the day, I still had time to go through some of John's and Myra's code. They did well. I have been teaching them techniques for writing reliable and easily modified code, and they are quick learners.
I went back up to our bedroom in the hopes that Jan would be getting up -- and would be up for a little hanky-panky. We had about an hour and a half before we would have to get everyone up and encourage them to get ready for school.
Jan was just starting to stir. It wasn't Jan, though. I felt my heart flutter as I saw Jan, or rather Butch get up and look himself over.
"Good morning, Studmuffin!"
Butch wore an expression of confusion. He's a smart lad, though. He just has to shake the sleep out of his handsome head. He looked at me and his eyes widened. His heart strings were pulled the same way mine were. We were literally made for each other, and our mysterious benefactors made sure that our emotional makeup reflected that. Still, the situation was awkward for both of us.
"I love you dearly, but I'm not a lesbian."
"You have a few things to learn about being a man, Butch." I smiled at him and took up a sexy pose. "First of all, there are times when you can't hide the fact that you're aroused. Lesson number two is the fact that you're at the 'raging hormones' age."
Butch looked very nervous and uncomfortable. Blast it all, Jan teased the snot out of me a year ago, but it appears that she, I mean he can't take it back.
"Thirdly, you can't be a lesbian if you're a male."
I really need to inject some levity into this situation.
I grabbed some of my Joe clothes and tossed them to him, then I switched to my Joe form. "Come on, son! It's time for me to teach you how to chew, spit, watch football, guzzle beer, and write your name in the snow!"
That, at least, got a smile. I left him to get used to his new body and went to my room. As much as I would love to help him through the transition, I have other commitments. I went to my room, became Tiffany, and put on my school clothes. We still had an hour before we would need to wake the kids.
I checked in on Butch. The clothes I had tossed to him fit amazingly well. In fact, he looked very handsome wearing my clothes. He looked over at me and smiled.
"First of all, you can't teach me to chew or spit because neither of us will touch tobacco. Secondly, nobody in this family bothers to watch spectator sports. Thirdly, I have yet to see you guzzle the microbrewed beverages that you seem to prefer. And finally, there won't be any snow here for at least another six months."
It appears that his sense of humor is back. "OK, then, I guess we can get by with a game of 'sink the Cheerios.'"
We chatted for a while about the trials and tribulations of getting used to a new body and gender. After his initial shock, he has become quite used to the idea. We had both known that this day was sure to come, anyhow.
I went around the other bedrooms to get the kids up, and Butch went downstairs to make breakfast. Myra did a quick shift and back to freshen herself, and John showered. The other two boys just needed to get dressed.
Everyone went down to eat breakfast. Butch was nowhere to be seen. Soon, though, he came back in from doing the morning chores. As he came in, I said, "Hey, everyone; Butch here will be staying with us from now on. Mom will be out of town for a couple months, though." Everyone knew what was going on, of course. Soon, it was time to walk to the bus stop. We all hugged Butch good-bye and left him alone in the house to contemplate his situation.
School was... school. Things just went along as they always did. Myra and I are really enjoying the music class. Algebra is a skate class for both of us, now that Myra has gotten the logic of it figured out. Some of the immature boys are still causing us trouble. They are referring to us as the 'ice queens', and loudly speculating that we are having a lesbian affair. We just reply that we aren't interested in a junior high romance, especially with the immature boys that we keep running into. That, of course, earns us the title of stuck-up witch (with a capital "B") (or something like that.)
When we got home, Butch was going over a pile of legal papers that came from the same legal firm that had sent the Tiffany papers to us. Butch wordlessly handed an envelope to Myra. It contained a certificate for the live birth of a one Myra Jones. That leaves Myra with two legal identities to go with her two bodies.
Our mysterious benefactors have been at it again. We now have a birth certificate for Butch Kettering, adoption papers, a driver's license, a PADI diving card, and a few other odds and ends. Butch turned sixteen today.
So, Butch is sixteen years old, and is Joe and Jan's adopted son. I was wondering why he was adopted, while I was only fostered. Then it hit me. Since we aren't legally brother and sister, and are not genetically related, we can legally get married. That'll make me a Jeblonski again!
Butch's back story is similar to Tiffany's. His parents left him with a nice inheritance and an 'allowance' stipend. Joe and Jan get a nice child support check every month from a special trust fund. There was, of course, the inevitable personal/confidential letter.
Dear Butch and Tiffany:
You have done well, and we are very proud of you. We think, too, that you have come to trust us. Do you agree that life is better for you now?
You know the drill, Butch. You will get your new, improved Jan body once you have fully embraced your new male identity. This means that Tiffany will have to embrace yet another facet of womanhood.
Always remember that you are a married couple -- body and soul. Bruce and Tiffany are as married as Joe and Jan are. Your memories may make it difficult to remember this, but your bodies and brains are fully ready.
You, Tiffany, may find it difficult to make yourself vulnerable. You need to remember that butch is your soul mate, and loves you dearly.
You, Butch, are used to seeing Tiffany as a daughter. That is but a memory from your Jan body. When you wear your Butch body, Tiffany is your wife. She needs a special kind of love and tenderness that only you can provide. Whether she wants to be or not, she is vulnerable to you, and can be hurt easily. She may not want to believe this, but she knows it deep down.
Summer vacation is coming. Resist all temptation to dump the extra time into your business. Invest your time with each other, and with the kids. And you both need to remember to act with love and tenderness. Don't let your raging teen-age hormones override the respect that you have for each other. The hormones are there to enhance, not detract.
By the way, Tiffany can now be Joe for six hours a day. As before, only one can be stored. That leaves five free hours. When Jan comes back, she'll have three hours a day with two free hours.
With love and respect:
Your Mysterious Benefactors
Butch and I couldn't help but smile. The next adventure is starting. We celebrated by dressing up and going out to our favorite Italian restaurant for dinner. I brought my digital camera and we took turns snapping pictures of each other, much to the amusement of an older couple that was enjoying a walk by the lake. We asked them to take some pictures of us together. After we got home, I copied the pictures to the server, and printed off some of the best ones.
I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
Tuesday, April 26, 2022:
Butch and I slept cuddled against each other last night. That's as far as it went. We were tempted to do more, but felt that we just weren't ready.
School was great today. The classes were the same, but I finally had something to say to all those annoying boys. I told them, loudly, that my boyfriend is finally back, and will be starting school next year as a Junior. Then, I pulled the pictures out of my purse and showed them off.
Ice queen, indeed.
Myra was smiling, but there was a wistful look in her eyes. I whispered to her that her time is coming. "Don't be impatient! You're still young. You have lots of time, not to mention the right plumbing."
That got a smile from her. She can now pursue a relationship without feeling that she needs to hide some deep, dark secret.
Friday, April 29, 2022:
Butch is taking over a lot of the farm chores. He's stronger than I am (in my Tiffany form), but needs to work out more if he wants to match my Joe form. He has been diligently working on the farm, and also working out with Mark.
Meanwhile, Butch and I are still sleeping together. We set up the last bedroom for him, but he never sleeps there. It's there for window dressing, really. If someone comes over, I want them to see that there is a bedroom for Joe and Jan, plus an individual bedroom for each kid.
It may seem a waste to use up six bedrooms when we could get along with four. On the other hand, I set up my personal (non-work) computer in Tiffany's room, along with all of Tiffany's clothes and personal stuff. Butch did the same with his stuff. That leaves our joint bedroom much less full of junk, and much more romantic in appearance.
By the way, I had fun setting Butch's room like a typical teen-age boy's room. He has models hanging from the ceiling, posters, and other paraphernalia.
Saturday, April 30, 2022:
Joe and Butch need to do some father and son male bonding. We decided to go fishing, then did some target practice. We both took a few shots with that same 7 mm deer rifle that had knocked me on my can last year. It felt good to be able to handle that rifle with confidence again. My Tiffany body has grown enough that I can probably handle it as Tiffany now, but that's beside the point.
Sunday, May 1, 2022:
I think we're starting to get a reputation for picking up strays over at church. Everyone welcomed Butch, of course. Since I went as Tiffany, a few people noticed that we seem to be an item. Still, when it came time to go out with the teen youth group, Butch begged off. He had to drive the boys home. Myra, John, and I had to arrange for other transportation.
Later, when John saw Butch and Mark go down to the exercise room, he decided to follow them. Not to be left out, I shifted to my Joe body and went down. We did the usual macho "see how much I can lift" stuff -- though I insisted that nobody lift enough to hurt themselves. Still, the male-type friendly competition is a good way to make the workout more fun.
Tuesday, May 3, 2022:
Butch, Mark, John, and I (Joe) decided that doing the workouts together was a good way to discipline ourselves to keep it up. Butch and Mark are already showing some improvement. It appears that our new bodies respond much better to the exercise. It's as if the body detects what is desired of it, and responds. Based on what I have learned about the technology, that is very likely true.
Meanwhile, Butch and I (Tiffany) are still sleeping together, but are still keeping our hands to ourselves. What I wouldn't give for a chance to put on my Joe body and enjoy my marital relationship with Jan.
Still, this is part of the process. Butch and I (Tiffany) need to go through a genuine courtship as we become comfortable with our new roles in our Butch and Tiffany personae.
Friday, May 6, 2022:
Butch surprised me by picking me up from school. Everyone else went home on the bus, including Myra (much to her disappointment.) He was waiting for me when I left my last class. I smiled and ran to him, and he held me in his arms and gave me a kiss. Then, we took the long way around as we walked hand in hand out of the school, past the buses, and over to his car.
We went to a nice Thai restaurant for dinner, then bought him some clothes so that he could stop borrowing mine. He did his best to imitate the impatience that I used to display before the transformation, but it's still Jan inside of that studly body. I don't think that Butch will ever become a 'bag it and drag it' artist.
Sunday, May 8, 2022:
I can't believe we keep pulling this off. Nobody is batting an eye when we tell them that Jan is off to visit family, and won't be back for a while.
This past week, I had talked Butch into practicing his music. His bigger hands make fingering the guitar a bit harder, but he is getting used to it. Also, the extra finger strength helps. We found that he, too, has a full three octaves of full-voice range. He has a wonderful resonant baritone voice, but can hit all of the tenor notes.
He sang with confidence in church today. After church was over, he dropped John, Jim, and Joshua off at home and came back for the teen group.
Monday, May 9, 2022:
It seems that Butch's little visit made quite an impression. I was never status-minded in school, even the first time. Still, my status went up a couple notches. I tell myself that it means nothing, but it still feels good.
Wednesday, June 8, 2022:
Last day of school! Yay!
What a zoo! Everyone, especially the boys, seemed to find it necessary to bring a squirt gun or two to school. The teachers, of course, take a dim view of this. A whole lot of squirt guns got confiscated, but what else could they do? There could be no three day suspensions, but a couple kids ended up having to stay after school.
Today was pretty much a sham day, anyhow. Finals are over. The only reason to go to school today is to say good bye to all our friends, and enjoy the party atmosphere.
Despite the fact that I had come to school with every intention of remaining as invisible as possible, I had managed to make lots of friends. Things didn't go according to plan, but I can't say that that's a bad thing.
Butch came to school just before lunch time, and hung out with Myra and me for the rest of the day. Then, we collected John and drove to the elementary school to pick up the two younger boys. When we got home, we packed all of our beach stuff into the big Jeep for tomorrow. I thought about taking the scuba gear, but it's not likely to fit. Once Butch gets to go back to being Jan, we'll have to go down to the local dive shop and pick up new gear.
Come to think of it, I can probably wear Jan's stuff, and Butch can probably wear my stuff. I put the gear into the Jeep.
After we got all packed up, Butch put together a picnic lunch for tomorrow and made dinner. Myra, John, and I went down to the computer lab and managed to get most of our pending work done. After dinner, we went back down and tackled the rest. We sent John up at around 8:00 because he needs his beauty sleep. Myra and I just did a quick switch and switch back to refresh ourselves. Myra built a web page while I reviewed the code, did some QA, shipped everything out, and billed it. We expect some more work in a few days, but it feels good to have everything cleared off of our plates so that we can just goof around without worrying about work.
Thursday, June 9, 2022:
With everyone pitching in to do the morning chores, it was easy to get an early start. Everyone was upbeat as we drove off to Lake Michigan. There is a shallow bay off the beaten path where the water warms up early in the year. We took the Jeep because the seasonal roads tend to be sandy and rutted. In fact, we ended up pulling a Mustang out of a deep rut. I gave the young teenager who was driving some off-road tips, but I wonder if he took them to heart.
Once we got to the beach, the kids were out in a flash. They already had their swimsuits on, so they headed straight for the water. The rest of us hung some old blankets on the doors of the Jeep to use as a makeshift changing room.
Myra changed into that same sleek one-piece that she had bought for swimming class. She had filled out since last fall, so she stretched it a bit. It's a good thing I was in my Tiffany form. I didn't need to get turned on by my foster daughter.
Not to be outdone, I put on a sleek shiny dark blue two-piece number.
Actually, being outdone has nothing to do with it. It's my mission to help Butch fully accept his male role.
John changed, and he and Myra ran off to soak up some sun for a while. I called him back and insisted that he put on some sun block. He isn't tanned yet, and getting burned on the first nice summer outing is no fun. Butch wanted some lotion, but I assured him that our new bodies are good at taking care of themselves. By the end of the day, the three of us will have good tans.
Now, it's Butch's turn. It's also payback time. I reminded him of all the times Jan had dressed me in frilly stuff, took his clothes as he shucked them off, and handed him a pair of skimpy speedos. He was uptight enough about the idea of going topless, so the speedos were just icing on the cake. Hee hee.
He balked, but I told him that the changing booth was coming down in about ten seconds. He remembered what he had done to me just after my transformation, and decided that it would be prudent to not call my bluff. Payback... hee hee hee
I hung on his arm and said, "Come on, stud; let's go get wet."
"Those guys are looking at us!"
"No, silly. They're looking at me, and thinking about what a lucky dude you are. Ya gotta love the bodies that our mysterious benefactors fitted us out with!"
I started to lead him to the water, but he got stubborn and sat in the sand about twenty feet from the waves.
I walked over to John and Myra, who were looking mighty amorous. Suspicions confirmed! "All right, you two! Break it up!"
They both jumped and looked guilty. "Come on, Myra. I need your help dragging mister grumpy pants out into the water. Then, you two can go back to playing kissy-face."
"This I gotta see," said John. "I think he's going to pull the two of you into the water."
"Together, we outweigh him," I pointed out.
Myra and I each grabbed an arm and started dragging him to the water. He dug in his heels, but Myra and I are not exactly weak.
Quick as a flash, he broke Myra's grip and, in one fluid motion, lifted me over his shoulder and into a fireman's carry. Then, just as Myra was picking herself up out of the sand, he scooped her up and ran out into the water. Soon, we were in water up to his chest, and Myra was floating. He released her and tossed me out into the deeper water. I blew out my nose as the water closed over my head. I came up sputtering. "You brat!"
We both climbed on him and tried to dunk him, but he just folded his knees, kicked off of the bottom, and swam away. Jim and Josh, of course, had to come out and join in the fun. They each begged Butch to throw them. When John came out, Myra did her best to dunk him. It didn't work.
After about an hour of horsing around, we were all hungry. Butch and I grabbed a big beach towel, the picnic basket, and the cooler.
Gotta love living near the Fresh Coast. No sharks. No jellyfish. No salt. I love the ocean, but I don't love the feeling of sat drying on my body.
Butch, Myra, and I were all starting to get nice tans. John, even with the sun block, was starting to look pink. Myra volunteered to rub more lotion on him. She tackled the job with enthusiasm.
I was looking out at the water when Butch sat down behind me and put his arms around me. I leaned back into him. Jim and Josh went back to the sand castle that they had been building when the horse play started. John and Myra were busy talking and gazing into each other's eyes. Butch and I went to the Jeep and started pulling out the diving gear. Now is as good a time as any to try things out.
I pulled out my Lycra dive suit and handed it to Butch. It was way loose, but it fit. Jan's Lycra dive suit was slightly loose, but serviceable. Similarly, my neoprene wet suit billowed out in the belly and seat on Butch, and Jan's wet suit was just slightly loose.
My BC (buoyancy compensator) vest fit Butch just fine, and Jan's fit me. The weight belts did a good job of keeping the wet suit from billowing around Butch's waist. The masks and flippers fit fine. We had already removed the prescription lenses and replaced them with the original glass.
OK, ready to go.
We checked out the tanks and regulators, then dragged them out and put them on in the chest-deep water. We checked the seal on our masks, put the regulators in our mouths, nodded at each other, and dropped under the surface. Once we were floating, we brushed the sand off our feet and pulled on the flippers.
There really isn't much to see under the Great Lakes. Just sand, rocks, and lots of zebra mussels. Cruising just off the bottom, we managed to scare up a few crayfish, and saw some bass and perch in the rocks. It's nothing like the colorful coral reefs that attract divers to places like Belize, the Cayman Islands, and the Florida Keys. We weren't there for the scenery, though. We were there to see how well our new bodies got along with our dive equipment. After about twenty minutes, we did our safety stop at a depth of ten feet, surfaced, switched to snorkels, and swam back to the beach. We agreed to hold off on any new purchase until after Butch got his Jan body back. We also agreed that we ought to pay a visit to Tiffany's house by the sea next Christmas vacation.
As we were walking out of the water, we noticed that John and Myra were looking faintly guilty.
We let John and Myra borrow the snorkeling gear and laid the rest on the tailgate. We draped the Lycra dive suits and the wet suits over the Jeep to dry off. Then, we decided to splash around a bit to freshen up before changing back into our regular clothes.
It took a while to round everyone up, get them changed, and get everything loaded. Once we got that accomplished, we grabbed a bite to eat at a local greasy spoon, and headed home.
After doing the evening chores, I dressed in the sweats that make it easy for me to transform. I hadn't used any of my Joe time today, so I decided to wear my Joe body for a while. I walked downstairs and saw John and Myra all cuddled together on the love seat. I smiled at them. "You're a good step daughter, and you'll be a great daughter in law."
The looked kind of shocked. "Who said anything about marriage?"
I pulled a chair up to the love seat so that I wouldn't have to talk to them across the room. "You have already gone past the point of no return. You either go forward and have a relationship that will enrich your lives, or you break each other's hearts. Jan and I will be here to help you pick up the pieces, and the two of you may each find someone else, but you will have to go through a lot of heartache to get there."
They both looked at me solemnly.
"You're playing with fire, but nothing good in life comes without a risk."
John asked, "What should we do?"
"Is Myra someone you can spend the rest of your life with?" I looked at Myra. "Is John someone you can spend the rest of your life with?"
They looked at each other, still holding hands. They do make a cute couple. Furthermore, they really do seem to be made for each other.
I looked at John. "Your mom and I committed a few ummm... indiscretions when we were younger. There was nobody there to yell at us, but we paid the price none the less. We struggled with our marital relationship for years because of it."
A tear leaked from my eyes as I said this. I didn't try to wipe it away or hide it. The memory still hurts. If they learn something by seeing that; if they learn something from our mistakes, they may be spared some heartache. "There are lots of traps. Some people go all gung-ho, then get scared and run away. By the time this happens, they are past the point of no return. Their attempt to avoid heartache leads, ironically, to heartache."
Are they taking this in? They're still holding hands. Good.
"Some people let hormones and passion drive them way beyond the place they are emotionally ready to go. Some of them get ripped apart forever. Some swear off relationships forever. Some become overwhelmed by guilt and never try again. Some accept that that's just the way of life, and go from loveless relationship to loveless relationship until they they have nothing left but a hollow and joyless life." I paused for a second to think. "Your mother and I did our best to pick up the pieces. I made an honest woman out of her, as the saying goes. We made our commitments, kept them, started raising a family, and tried to tend our marriage like a garden. Through all the rocks and trials, our love grew deeper. Our physical intimacy left much to be desired, though."
The best gift that I can give my children right now is to open up to them -- no matter how painful it is to me. I had to put my head in my hands and sob for a few minutes before I could go on.
"A marriage has several components, and all of them are necessary. The romantic love that you feel at first is just one piece, and it comes and goes. For some, it goes away and never comes back."
I was recovering, but my cheeks were still tear-stained.
"Sex is more important than many will admit, but it is by no means sufficient."
I leaned forward and told them earnestly, "You must have a true unselfish love -- a sincere caring for each other. Furthermore, you have to be friends that can discuss everything without holding anything back. That means that you must never give each other a reason to hold back."
They were still holding hands. John was looking distinctly uncomfortable, though.
"John, are you sunburned?" He definitely is showing some red. "Well, John, today is your lucky day! You get to get rid of that nasty sunburn, and you get to start practicing at being Myra's friend." I put my hands on his head and visualized his girl form. It's about time some of my other loved ones got to enjoy the technology.
He looked relieved, then startled. "Myra, meet your new best girlfriend Clarisse"
John jumped up and said in his new higher voice, "What did you do that for?"
"I cured your sunburn, didn't I?" I looked at Myra. "Your job right now is to go through Tiffany's old clothes and find some that fit Clarisse here. Make sure you dress her up really pretty!" Clarisse just scowled.
"Now, don't get all grumpy on me. How do you think I felt when I woke up in a little girl's body? I didn't know what was going to happen to my marriage. At least you have the advantage of knowing that you'll be shifting back before school starts next fall. Meanwhile, enjoy your new body and work hard at being Myra's best girlfriend."
Clarisse still looked pensive. "How long do I have to stay like this?"
"That depends on you. You will have to go through at least one period. Beyond that, you will be able to shift into your improved John body once you have become comfortable with your new Clarisse identity."
She made a face. "P-period?"
I just snickered. "It's something that all men should experience."
I shifted to my Tiffany body.
"Don't look so morose! I, for one, love having an extra identity!"
I shifted back.
"My relationship with your mother was still suffering greatly when I was first transformed. We became better 'best friends' when I was stuck as Tiffany. Now that I can be Joe whenever I want, the sex is better than it has ever been. Whether you know it or not, our mysterious benefactors and I have just given you a great gift."
I got up, carried the chair back to its place, and shifted to my Tiffany body. I looked over at Myra. "Go get your girlfriend out of those boy's clothes."
* * * * *
Interlude
Alerted by the level of emotion from the three players, Snrxl and Vrall watched the drama unfold. They saw Joe prepare to shift John to his new body, but did nothing to stop him. Though he wasn't explicitly instructed to do this, Snrxl judged that it was a good idea. Also, he had chosen Joe for his wisdom and compassion. He's not about to undermine a leader that is doing so well.
* * * * *
Butch and I (Tiffany) made our rounds as usual. When we got to Clarisse's room, we found her morosely sitting on her bed, dressed in the same silky flowing nightie that Jan had once foisted upon me. I shifted to my Joe body and walked into the room. I scooped her up and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Butch turned the covers back, and I laid her gently in the bed. "Good night, Princess."
Then we each prayed over her. She tried to hide it, but we both saw her smile sleepily and burrow down into the pillow.
Finally, everyone was settled. I shifted back to my Tiffany body and slipped into a light silky nightie. It had the desired effect on Butch.
"That was quite an impassioned speech that you delivered."
"It was impassioned because it was a lesson hard learned. I'm so glad that we're getting our stuff together now."
I wish I could shift him to his new Jan form so that Joe and Jan could enjoy their marital relationship tonight. I probably could do it, of course, but it wouldn't be the right thing to do. Our mysterious benefactors know more about this business than I do, and they want Butch to be stuck as Butch until he fully becomes the man that he should be.
I didn't mention this to him, of course. He isn't going to embrace his new identity if I keep reminding him of his old identity.
He surprised me by wrapping his arms tightly around me and kissing me deeply. It caught me by surprise, but I soon surrendered to it. Yep, there are a few parts of my Tiffany identity that I need to embrace, too.
We bid each other good night, and I snuggled back into his embrace. I fell asleep with his warm breath on my hair and his arms circling protectively around my torso.
Friday, June 10, 2022:
I woke up with Butch's arms still circling protectively around me. He generally requires two more hours of sleep than I do, so I carefully unwrapped myself so that I could slip away. Suddenly, his arms tightened around me and he nibbled my neck.
"Where ya going, foxy lady?" He has never called me that before. I was nervous and excited at the same time.
I won't go into details. Suffice it to say that Butch and Tiffany are both still virgins, but only just barely. We were both nervous at first, but hardly inexperienced. He turned out to be a skillful lover. I guess he knows what girls want. In the end, we were both quite satisfied, and just laid in each other's arms for a while.
I shifted and shifted back while Butch was showering. That gave me time to get dressed and start cooking breakfast.
The kids started wandering down just as I was flipping the first batch of pancakes. Myra and Clarisse quickly set the table, and sat down just in time to get the first batch of pancakes. The other kids came down and thought that that just wasn't fair, but I pointed out that Myra and Clarisse were the first ones here, and that they set the table. Jim whined less, so he got pancake number three out of that batch.
Butch came down just in time for the next batch. I gave him two and gave the third to Josh. Myra looked suspiciously at the big smiles that Butch and I were wearing. She shook her finger at us and we just smiled wider. After breakfast, Butch and I went out to do chores while everyone else went upstairs to get dressed. I was going to do the morning chores in my Joe form, but I decided that Butch needs to see me more in my Tiffany form.
I have another reason to want to use my Joe form, of course. I spend a three hour stint as Joe at least once every three weeks so that I won't have to experience a period. Doing it once every two weeks should keep me well away from ovulation. Once a week is even safer. In other words, spending a lot of three hour stints as Joe is a good form of birth control. As close as we came this morning, I am going to make doubly sure that I'm not fertile. I'm sure Butch is fertile.
Butch was pitching some hay to the goats when I finished up my part of the chores and walked in. I heard giggling coming from upstairs, so I went up there to see what was going on. The giggling was coming from Clarisse's room. "Come on, Clarisse! If Tiffany can wear it, you can wear it!"
Clarisse was wearing white ruffled panties, a training bra, and knee socks. Myra was holding that white ruffled dress that Jan had forced me to wear to church one Sunday last year.
"Oh, Sweetie! You are even cuter than I thought!" Clarisse just scowled at me. "Come on, missy, listen to your best girlfriend. She's trying to help you out."
I left them and went down to the computer room. I usually have time to think quietly just after waking up. Today, things went differently -- not that I'm complaining. Still, I wonder why I needed as much sleep as I did.
Then, it occurred to me. I had received some dream training last night. Since my mind is working when that happens, it doesn't count as sleep. I needed a good six hours of down-time because of all that happened yesterday, and the dream training brought that up to a solid eight hours.
Last night, the voice told me that it's time for me to learn to use my implant -- whatever that is. It told me that I would have to open myself up to communications during the day.
Just then, the voice came. "Tiffany, before we can start, I need permission to access your implant."
I was a bit confused, but I said, "OK, you have permission to access my implant."
Immediately, I was sitting in a strange room looking at a man who seemed young and old simultaneously. At the same time, I was still sitting in the computer room.
"Close your eyes and things will be less confusing."
And thus started my lessons.
It turns out that the implant isn't something that can be seen in an x-ray. Rather, it is a complex of that pattern/potential stuff that underpins the technology that allows the transformations. On the physical side, there is a bundle of nerves that interfaces with it -- much the same way that your soul interfaces with your brain. Also, any thing sensed through the implant is separate from perceptions that come through the physical senses. That's why I had earlier described hearing "a voice that isn't a voice".
The first thing that the man, who introduced himself as snrxl, taught me was how to push the perceptions from my real body into the background so that I could concentrate on the virtual room that I shared with him. He assured me that I can do the same with anyone who has an implant and knows how to use it. Butch will begin his training a couple weeks after getting his new, improved Jan body.
He told me that my own training was accelerated because of the initiative that I had displayed yesterday when I transformed John into Clarisse. I wasn't supposed to be able to do that yet, but my emergency transformation of Myra had taught me how to do it. He could have stopped me from transforming John, but he let me do it because it was a good idea.
I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
Sunday, June 12, 2022:
I woke again in Butch's loving embrace. For the third time in a row, I was unable to sneak away quietly. He was already awake, watching me as I pretended to sleep.
Even though I no longer need to receive training during my sleep, Snrxl is still doing it. I suspect that he's purposely timing things so that I wake up slightly after Butch does.
But I'm not about to complain. It's hard to complain when you have such a big grin on your face. I'm just glad that the master bedroom has thick walls.
After our morning constitutional, Butch headed for the showers and I shifted to my Joe body, put on some farm clothes, and dragged the kids out of bed and outside to do the chores. Myra and Clarisse took care of the milking, Jim grained the horses and fed the dogs, and Josh fed the cats and gathered the eggs. I pitched hay to the goats and made made sure that everyone had water. I switched to my Jan body before going back into the house.
Butch came down, set the table, and helped me prepare breakfast. He cooked the bacon and cut up the ham and veggies for the omelets. By the time the kids were done with their chores, breakfast was ready to be served.
Myra and Clarisse finished first and disappeared upstairs. I heard the shower going for about ten minutes. I sent Jim and Josh up when it stopped. After stuffing them into the shower, I went to my room and looked for something dressy but modest for church. I settled for a flower print dress, nude nylons, and low heels.
After setting that stuff out, I went to haul the two boys out of the shower. I tossed each of them a towel and went to their bedrooms to set out their clothes. On the way back, I heard giggling in Clarisse's room.
Myra was dressed in a short pleated skirt, a somewhat less than demure (but not immodest) blouse, coffee colored nylons, and two inch heels. Her lipstick matched the rosy pink fingernails.
Both girls were giggling as Myra helped Clarisse apply her lipstick. Clarisse had to be careful to avoid messing up freshly applied fingernail polish -- the same stuff that Myra was wearing. It looked like they were going for the 'big sister/little sister' look, because the outfit laid out on Clarisse's bed was remarkably similar to Myra's. I poked my head in and asked them if I should dress in my pleated skirt, too. They both made a face.
But I wasn't about to spoil their fun. Besides, I chose my ensemble to compliment Butch's casual cotton pants and light short sleeve shirt.
Here we go again, picking up strays. Nobody was surprised that John was visiting relatives with Jan. Clarisse was welcomed warmly, and everyone loved the way that Myra was sticking with her and helping her feel comfortable.
Monday, June 13, 2022:
The training dreams came again. This time, I asked Snrxl if he was intentionally timing things so that I wake up just a little later than Butch. He just grinned at me and asked me if I was complaining. I blushed. How can I blush in a virtual chat room when I'm not really there?
I asked him why, out of the billions of people in the world, that he chose me.
"Actually, I didn't choose from billions. There were only four countries that would work for our purposes."
"OK, so out of the half a billion or so, why me?"
"Are you complaining?"
This time, it was my turn to smirk. "What do you think?"
Snrxl is actually quite a delightful character. He has a sense of humor that won't quit. This time, though, he was serious. "The short answer is that we picked you for your compassion and wisdom. Intelligence is a plus, but intelligence is of the body, and can therefore be enhanced. In fact, we knocked the intelligence of all of your loved ones up a few notches, and their improved bodies will be even smarter."
"What's the long answer?"
"Several factors go into it. When we chose you, we chose all of those that you deeply care for. Some are just going along for the ride, but most of them will play an active role in the plan."
"What is the plan?"
He smirked. "Now, now; you know that to forewarn is to inhibit."
Then, he got serious again.
"You and Jan were chosen because you make a good team, and because you have displayed some leadership and counseling abilities. Also, because of the attitudes about sex in your culture, we needed someone who could fulfill both gender roles, and do a good job of it."
"I was never particularly androgynous. I always liked being a man."
"No, you weren't androgynous. You are kind of the opposite. Instead of having no strong gender-specific traits, or having sort of middle-of-the-road traits, you have traits from both end of the spectrum. Your soul has strong male and strong female traits. You took on the traits that match your body, and expressed the female traits by telling yourself that you are strong enough to be gentle, that you protect by nurturing, and similar rationalizations."
He has a point there. I always said that real men can wear pink. I said that men who are secure in their masculinity don't have to worry about someone else thinking that they're effeminate. I also had to reflect that I was never particularly macho. I enjoyed my strength, but my gender identity was never a big part of my self image.
"Another reason that we chose you is that you are actively seeking a closer relationship with The Maker."
"The Maker?"
"You call him God. Do you think that God is just a local God who only watches after your planet?"
He had me there. "No, of course not!"
He smirked. "I didn't think so. Still, those who only know one planet generally don't look beyond that planet."
"Come to think of it, this experience gives me more insight into the nature of God. After all, I am Joe and I am Tiffany, but there is still only one me.
His eyes lit up. "You have great insight, grasshopper."
"Grasshopper?"
His eyes sparkled with humor again. "Before starting the plan, I had to learn about your culture. That included lots of time watching your entertainment and news."
"Ah, OK. I'll just have to trust that you understand that television reflects a caricature of our culture, not the culture itself."
He smiled at me. "That is common knowledge."
We chatted for a bit more. Then, he said, "It's time for you to go to sleep if you want to keep your appointment with lover boy tomorrow."
Even though most of my attention was on our conversation, I had purposely kept enough peripheral awareness of my physical body to luxuriate in the warm embrace of my love.
"How about if you let me stay awake for about ten seconds so that I can enjoy Butch's embrace, then drop me off to sleep. Can you do that?"
"Of course!"
I was suddenly in Butch's warm embrace. I snuggled back and fell into a deep sleep.
* * * * *
As always, I woke up refreshed. Butch was gently stroking my hair. I turned around and gave him a hug, then a kiss, then... but nobody really needs to know the details.
This time, Butch decided to come do the chores first and shower later. He had been feeling guilty about having the chores done by the girls and the kids. This time, he pitched the hay. What a stud.
Jim and Josh begged to go to the beach again. Why not? Most of the swimming stuff is already in the Jeep for just such an occasion. We even kept the scuba stuff in the back. We rinsed everything and refilled the tanks, but then put it right back. I quickly put a picnic lunch together, and carried it out to the Jeep just as everyone was piling in.
Myra was coming out the front door, but she turned around and quickly ran back in. In less than a minute, she reemerged. She hopped in and we were on our way. I was wondering what Myra had gone back into the house for. She turned to Clarisse and asked, "What are you going to wear in the water?"
"My swimming trunks are already in with the rest of the swimming stuff." Then, she put her hand over her mouth. "Oh no!"
Myra giggled. "You're so lucky you have me to take care of you!" She pulled a skimpy bikini out of her pocket and handed it to Clarisse, who took it and blushed.
We made a changing tent like before. Myra and Clarisse changed together. Butch, remembering the speedos that I had foisted upon him last time, brought a pair of trunks. I chose a sleek red one-piece.
After swimming for a bit, Butch and I decided to pull out the scuba gear and take another dive. There might not be much to see down there, but it's still a joy to float weightlessly in the water. We practiced using breath control to control our buoyancy. We both found it to be slightly different in our new bodies, but we soon got good at holding our depth.
We swam around, enjoying the three-dimensional freedom. All too soon, we had to make our ten foot safety stop and surface. We swam along the surface with our snorkels until we were in knee-deep water. Then, we removed our flippers, got up, and walked to the Jeep. Once we divested ourselves of our gear and set it out to dry, we noticed that Myra and Clarisse were keeping an eye on Jim and Josh, as instructed. They were also prancing up and down the beach, enjoying the attention they were getting. Clarisse seems to be adapting all too well to her new body. I think I have created a monster.
* * * * *
Butch, Myra, Clarisse, and I all have nice tans. Jim and Josh managed to get sunburned pretty badly. They were practically crying by the time we got back.
Well, now is as good a time as any. I put my hands on Jim and changed him to his female form. Then, I immediately changed him to his male form. I did the same with Josh. They were both relieved to get rid of their sunburn, and I am happy that everyone in the family is now immune to pretty much any disease or injury. Tonight, I'll have to talk to Snrxl about the situation. I don't really see any point in bending their genders at that age, and I don't think it's a good idea to give them the ability to transform. I let them try on both bodies so that the emergency transformation feature would work, but I don't expect to see them as girls any time soon.
Tuesday, June 14, 2022
I had a nice discussion with Snrxl last night. He was perfectly happy with my decision to give my youngest sons their new improved bodies. When I asked about the rest of my loved ones, he replied that I could use my own discretion, but that they should read my journal before deciding for themselves. Also, I was to tell them that they would be receiving training like I had. Apparently, none of them would be forced to wear an opposite gender body. I didn't know whether to feel cheated or privileged. Snrxl pointed out the fact that any trial or training is good. I wouldn't be who I am right now if I hadn't had to face the challenge.
When it was time for me to drop off to sleep, Snrxl asked me if I wanted to do the ten second cuddle and and sleep, like I did last night.
So, I luxuriated in Butch's warm embrace, then dropped off to sleep.
As Snrxl had planned, I woke up just after Butch. As expected, this morning's romp was even better than before.
The kids surprised us by making breakfast and doing the chores by themselves. Life is good.
After breakfast, I went down to the computer room. Sure enough, Great Lakes RV Rental has come to the startling conclusion that their current application isn't going to work well at their new location. Warms the cockles of me heart, it does. (What are cockles, anyway?)
OK, let me back up a bit.
Last year, they bought a store front, some warehouse space, and some dock space at a marina. They have been diligently setting up a boat rental business. The intention was to use their current software to handle the boat rentals. After all, they're doing almost the same thing. They need to track engine hours instead of miles, but almost everything else is the same. Certainly, the software is versatile enough to do the job. The problem is that they are now working out of two locations. If they use a separate copy of the software at each location, they will end up with information about each location, but there will be no corporate level reports. If they want corporate level reports, they will have to print the reports for each location separately, run one over to the main store, and add them together by hand. My job is to give them some alternatives. They want alternatives, prices, and the pros and cons for each.
One alternative is to use something like PC Anywhere or Citrix or Virtualbox to allow the remote location to run the application while it resides on the main location's servers. Another is to write some special code that will synchronize the two copies of the application periodically. A third alternative is to keep the two locations separate, but write some special code to export the reports and merge them. A fourth is to write web front ends for the components that they want to run at the new location. There are others, but none of them have any particular advantages over the above four. If it had been written as a web-based application in the first place, none of this wouldn't have been necessary. You have to work with what you have, though.
A couple of decades years ago... Three decades ago? Anyhow, I wrote a program that synchronized two applications over a phone modem at about 2:00 every morning. About twenty-five years ago, we (my employers) provided a service where we kept the applications on our servers (providing backup, guaranteed 100% up time, and the like), and served it over the Internet to the clients via Citrix.
I wrote up a detailed analysis, billed it as a consultation, and sent it off. There are no more projects pending, so I shut down my work station and went back upstairs.
I decided to take a walk outside. What's the use of having all those animals if you don't enjoy them on occasion? The chickens came running when they saw me go out the door. I tossed them some scratch grain, and petted a couple of them as they ate out of my hand. Then, I went over and talked to the goats. Goats can be very personable animals, even the stinky old bucks. Alas, we had earlier promised to board some African Pygmy goats. We were going to put them in with our own goats until we found out that they have an intact buck. Why would anyone want a buck goat as a pet? Whether or not they have behavior problems, they definitely have some habits that are disgusting to us humans. They also smell pretty bad; partly due to a scent gland between the horns, and partly due to their habit of peeing on their front legs, beard, and in their mouths. I guess buck goat pee smells like the finest perfume to a doe.
So, the three goats are in a pen well away from our own goats. The last thing we need is for that buck to escape and mate with our does. Fortunately, it isn't rutting season. At least, it isn't rutting season for most breeds of goat. Pygmies rut all year round.
And sure enough, they were going at it. I hope our friends don't mind taking care of some goat kids just before Thanksgiving.
People use the 'birds and the bees' euphemism when trying to explain reproduction to their kids. That's all well and good, but it's the behavior of mammals, like those goats there, that is closer to what they are trying to explain.
Of course, to the goats, it is nothing more than the following of an instinct -- the following of a desire. The act has no more significance than eating or playing. The hormones in their bodies and the pheromones that they detect guide the behavior, and lead to the swapping of genetic material.
I guess some humans see it that way, too. They do it because it feels good, without any thought to the more meaningful components of the act. They follow their hormones, rather than acknowledging that they are rational and spiritual beings that have a higher calling than mere flesh.
I left the goats to their animal behavior and walked over to the horses. Jan's pony came to see me, and it occurred to me that she hadn't been ridden in quite some time. Horses like to be ridden, so I led her over to the tack room and saddled her up. I rode her around the pasture, but that simply wasn't enough for her.
It's been a while since I had a nice walk in the woods, anyhow. With the smooth rolling motion of the horse and the soft sound of hooves on pine needle covered earth, riding a horse is quite conducive to thinking.
I'm pretty sure I did the right thing with Jim and Josh. I gave them the safety and health advantages of their new bodies without goofing with their gender identities. They are too young to have fully formed their identities, so confusing them would not be a good thing.
Clarisse is doing a good job of embracing her femininity. In fact, she is doing a good sight better job than I did at first. She, or rather he, also had a very good year at school. It's amazing how much John has matured in the past year or so. I suspect that Snrxl and crew did more than just increase his intelligence. They probably cleared out the impulsively and a few other issues that used to plague him. The way things are going, he's likely to be mighty bored next year in school. I wonder if we can get him into a few advanced classes. Maybe we can teach him the algebra and advanced science that Myra and I took last semester. Myra would probably enjoy tutoring him. If we can convince the school to let him test out of those classes, we might be able to move him ahead a year.
Changing him to Clarisse was a good idea, but I kind of regret the fact that she is missing out on our workouts. Maybe it would be a good idea to transform her for the workouts, then transform him back when we're done. That would allow him to gain strength in his male body, and continue to have some 'guy time' with all of us guys. I'll have to talk to Snrxl about that tonight.
"Why wait until tonight?" His voice came through loud and clear.
"Do you always monitor my thoughts?"
I could now see him in my mind's eye. My view of the trail wasn't affected because the implant and the normal perceptions come through two separate 'channels'.
"Because of the project, I am authorized to monitor the thoughts of all subjects. I generally don't do it, but I do have the communication equipment set up to alert me when my name is called, or when there is strong emotion."
I had to snicker at that one. "I wonder how many estrogen induced false alarms you have gotten from me."
"Very few, actually. I did my time, and I know all about estrogen induced angst. It isn't hard to filter out."
"You spent some time as a girl?"
Snrxl chuckled at that one. "Yes, of course I did. Most people from the planets with our technology have both male and female identities, but I had to be stuck as a female as part of the training for my job"
"What job is that?"
He smiled at me. "Why, taking care of you, of course! I am your personal trainer and mentor. I am here to help you your loved ones succeed with your mission. Just call on me, and I'll be there to help."
His tone was light, but his words gave me the warm fuzzies. I couldn't help but smile.
"OK, oh honorable master. Do you think that I should turn Clarisse back into John for our manly workouts and grunt fests?"
"Your reasoning is sound, grasshopper. You have done well."
His tone was flippant, but his sentiments were real.
I didn't really know how to ask the next question. Is Snrxl going to give me advice on such a personal issue, anyhow? "Butch and I are having a great time, but he seems hesitant to consummate our marriage in our new bodies."
He looked at me with a serious expression. "You are hesitant, too. In fact, he remembers how it felt to be rushed, and doesn't want to do that to you."
Talk about a guilt trip! He could tell how I felt, of course.
"Don't waste your guilt on the past. You were young, inexperienced, less wise, and simply didn't know better. Your hormones overrode your good sense, and it was the same with Jan. In the end, she felt as much guilt as you did."
I paused to mull that one over. I felt Tina's rolling motion under my rear as she walked the familiar trail. I finally spoke. "So, this time, we are going to do it right."
"Yes. Butch knows that he has to take the lead, but he also knows that you have to surrender the lead to him. Part of your previous problem was that you took the lead before Jan surrendered it to you."
I hung my head, but I know that what's past is past. We have been given a new start that we would have had a difficult time making for ourselves.
Snrxl said gently, "He is your soul mate in the truest sense. Still, don't surrender to him until you are ready to give your all. You can trust him with everything, but you must be able to do that without reservation."
I thought about that. It's his job to be strong, and it's my job to encourage him. Jan was always a strong woman, so Butch shouldn't have too much trouble adapting. On the other hand, I have 41 years of history as a male. Depending on and trusting him in the way that I should may be a bit of a challenge.
"You're doing fine. Just give yourself time. Give him time, too. Nothing good comes quickly or without a struggle."
"Was I wrong to try to drag him into the water?"
This time, Snrxl chuckled at me. "No, what you and Myra did was actually quite in character. Also, the end result did him a world of good."
The trail had looped around, and we were almost back to the farm.
"Thank you for your wise counsel, oh honorable master."
He winked at me. "Any time, grasshopper."
* * * * *
Butch and I went to the feed mill. Butch decided to get everything in 100 pound bags, instead of the usual fifty pound bags. He made me stay in the truck while he loaded everything. I wasn't about to lug 100 pound bags of food around using my Tiffany body, anyhow.
Wednesday, June 15, 2022:
Today, we all went to Mom and Dad's lake house, cleaned it up, and opened it for the summer. I'm sure they will enjoy coming home to a house that doesn't look like it's been abandoned all winter.
When just hacking around, I generally wear my 'transformation clothes'. I made sure that I was set up today because there was a good chance that I would need the strength of my Joe body. As it turns out, Butch suggested that I ride herd over the kids in the house while he did the yard chores.
Ride herd? Myra and Clarisse have been maturing wonderfully. They can easily handle Jim and Josh, who aren't doing too badly themselves.
But who am I to argue? I went in with the kids and directed everyone to their tasks. I took care of the kitchen, running the dishes through the dishwasher to remove last winter's dust, giving the tables and counters a quick cleaning with a damp rag, and the like. Soon, everything was spotless. Butch came in just in time to move the heavy furniture around so that Clarisse could vacuum under it. The final step was to turn on the well pump (Butch did that) and open all the faucets to fill up and flush the pipes.
After getting the house ready for Mom and Dad, we decided that we all deserve a treat. We headed to one of our favorite pizza joints.
As usual, Butch was doing the driving. He and I are the only ones with a license, and it's my Joe persona that has the license. While there are few issues with wasting 'Joe time', I like to stay in my Tiffany persona when I'm around Butch. The only exceptions are the workout times, and some scheduled 'male bonding' time when we go fishing, do target practice, or ride around the quads.
So, Butch was the one who had to fight the steering wheel when a back tire blew. The image of that truck that almost killed two families flashed through my mind. Butch managed to keep the minivan under control and got it pulled over to the side of the road, though. He breathed a sigh of relief and slumped over the steering wheel for a second. Then, he turned off the engine and got out.
I sighed and followed him out. He opened the back of the van, and I started pulling at the jack and lug wrench.
"Nothing doing, young lady! You just get the kids out of the van and keep them amused."
I started to stiffen and wanted to tell him that I am perfectly capable of changing a tire. Is Butch starting to develop a male ego?
Then I relaxed. This is a good thing. He is starting to become Butch, rather than simply wearing the body. I should do as well as he's doing. I put my arms around his neck, pecked him on the cheek, and said, "Thank you, honey!"
I should mention that Jan has never changed a tire in her life. Neither has Butch. I could have stayed and helped him, but I had never asked Jan to help me. I had to let him play his role. I could have given him advice, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. He isn't stupid, after all. I just said, "Be careful, honey!"
He rolled his eyes and said "Yes, dear."
He read the instructions carefully. Soon, he had the van jacked up and started to remove the shredded tire. He put the lug wrench on the nut and gave it a spin. The entire wheel spun. I had to bite my tongue to keep from offering advice.
He lowered the jack enough to jam the tire against the ground and tried again. This time, he had all five lug nuts off in a couple minutes. The car was too low to put the spare on, so he jacked it up.
It's really hard to lift something as heavy as a tire and handle it with the precision necessary to get the studs through the holes. He struggled a little, then stuck his foot under the tire, twisted it just enough to adjust it to the right height, and quickly got the spare on. He spun all five nuts on and jammed his foot under the tire so that he could tighten them. After lowering the van, he tightened them again.
I hugged him and thanked him for getting us back on the road. "I noticed that you were watching me like a hawk. Did the job meet your approval?"
"I was just admiring the way you figured everything out and, yes, you did a wonderful job." That gave me an excuse to kiss him again.
Our next stop was to the tire place. We ended up ordering four new tires. They should be in tomorrow.
Finally, we made it to the pizza joint. Butch ran to the rest room to wash the grease and road grime off, then joined us for a very nice meal.
I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.
It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.
Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.
One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.
Thursday, June 16, 2022:
Snrxl and I had a nice chat last night. I told him about how Butch is doing such a good job of embracing his role, and he said that Butch wasn't the only one who needed those experiences to properly embrace his persona. After our training session, I did the usual ten seconds and down for the count thing. I have come to really enjoy that.
This morning, things were a little different. Butch was every bit as tender and affectionate, but he took a bit more of a leadership role. Somehow, he was more affectionate and protective, and also more masculine and assertive.
We finally consummated our marriage in our Butch and Tiffany bodies. It was everything I had hoped for, and more. It was certainly better than when we had shared each other as Joe and Jan. In the end, it was truly a case of mutual consent and desire. We both made the decision.
Sunday, June 19, 2022:
The last three days have been wonderful. It was as if Butch and I had discovered a new secret. The kids did a good job of taking over the morning chores and making breakfast.
During the day, Butch did some construction around the farm, while Myra, Clarisse, and I hacked out job after job in the computer room. We also found some time to do things as a couple, do things as a family, and just enjoy life.
But this morning, instead of waking up in Butch's warm embrace, I woke up in Jan's warm embrace. I rolled over, gave her a kiss, then shifted to my Joe body.
Somehow, the experience that Butch and I shared made the experience that we share as Joe and Jan all the better. Jan used up better than an hour of 'Jan time', then we switched to Butch and Tiffany and did it all over again. I think that we are the luckiest couple in the world!
After we were done with the morning's recreation... I mean marriage enhancement, I asked Butch to shift to Jan so that I could get a good look at her.
She was mostly the same as before the transformation to Butch, but her skin had a fresher look, and fit her like never before. She was absolutely perfect from head to toe.
At church today, we had a lot to be thankful for. We couldn't tell anyone the details, but everyone could see the joy on our faces.
Monday, June 20, 2022:
Clarisse has been signing all her work as John. It occurred to her belatedly that maybe she ought to build up a body of work under her female name. I had actually doing the same thing myself, but letting Tiffany take credit wasn't really taking anything away from Joe. Joe, after all, already has a huge portfolio.
We finally decided that her John persona would get credit for anything that she hasn't done before, and that Clarisse would get credit for about a quarter of the total work. That way, John's portfolio would contain every type of project that Clarisse's portfolio contained, and Clarisse's portfolio would be about a third of the size of John's. After all, John is his main identity, and Clarisse may never get an actual legal identity.
Wednesday, June 22, 2022:
Mom and Dad are taking their time coming north. Dad isn't feeling good. Mom is getting worried. I talked to Snrxl about it, and he agrees that I should shift Mom and Dad to their new bodies just as soon as I can.
Thursday, June 23, 2022:
We were all getting ready for bed when Snrxl contacted Butch and me through our implants. My dad had a heart attack, and we have to drive to the hospital immediately. Unfortunately, it is two hours away.
We put Myra and Clarisse in charge and immediately ran out to the van. Luckily, we keep it loaded with a 'contingency kit' that includes changes of clothes for everyone, food, beverages, and the like. Butch and I wore our transformation clothes. That includes a fanny pack with a shirt, underwear, slippers that allow female feet to go into male-size shoes and identification for both personae in separate (male and female styled) wallets.
I wrote down the address and directions to the hospital, while Butch drove into the night.
Sure enough, my mother called us. She had called the house, and they had her call us on the cell phone. I told her that we were on our way, and to not let the doctors give up. No matter how hopeless it looks, I can save Dad as long as body and soul are still together. I reminded her that Jan and I have received the gift of healthy bodies, and that she and Dad will soon have the same gifts. He just has to hang on.
It was a long, tense ride. Snrxl kept assuring us that Dad is hanging on. He urged us to hurry, though.
Butch pulled into the lot and up to the main entrance. I ran in, while Butch parked the van, changed to Jan, and put on her scrubs and badge. It may be the badge for another hospital, but it will still make the difference between being tossed out summarily and being allowed to enter.
Snrxl guided me straight to Dad's room. Just before I got to the door, a security guard grabbed my by the arm and asked me where I am going in such a hurry. I jabbed him in the solar plexus with my elbow and burst into the room, just in time to hear the doctor yell "Clear!", apply the paddles, and pull the trigger. The defibrillator caused very little reaction. The doctor just shook his head.
I rushed up to my dad. The image of his new body was clear in my bind. This can probably be done without a physical touch, but that's how I was taught.
I could hear the single tone of the heart monitor. That tone indicates a 'flat line' condition. As soon as I touched Dad's head, the monitor started making a steady "beep beep beep" sound. I saw a perfect sinus wave on the screen. Dad's body lost its gray pallor, his hollow-looking cheeks filled in, and the muscle tone returned. He opened his eyes. "Heal bruthah!," I said in my best Southern Baptist voice.
I leaned down, and said to him in a low voice. "You are now in perfect health. We'll talk more after you get out of this place. Don't tell them who I am."
Then, I went to my mom and told her that she can stop crying now. "Dad is out of danger and in perfect health. Don't tell anyone that you know who I am."
I ran out of the room, but the security guard, who was struggling to his feet, grabbed my foot. I came down with a crash, and he grabbed my other foot. There were other guards running from opposite ends of the hall. "Let go of me, you bonehead!" I wanted them all to hear a very male voice coming from me.
I'm not weak, of course. I rolled and kicked, then I sprang up when he lost his grip. I ran down the hall and then left a side hall. About half way down the hall was an alcove with the men's room on the left and the ladies' room on the right. I ran into the ladies' room, shifting just as I was going through the door. My sweat pants and fanny pack fell to my hips, and my shirt was like a tent.
I knew that they would be looking for someone with blue sweats and a blue t-shirt. I whipped off my fanny pack and pulled out my bra and woman-sized hot pink t-shirt. I stuffed the blue shirt in just as the guard charged into the room.
I screamed and yelled "Pervert!" I covered my breasts with my pink shirt.
"Did a guy come in here?"
"GET OUT!"
He left.
I wrapped the bra around my torso, hooked it in the front, rotated it around, put my arms through the loops, and settled everything into place. Then, I put the hot pink shirt on, followed by the fanny pack. I let the shirt drape over the pack so that it couldn't be seen easily. I didn't want to resemble Joe at all. I smiled as I walked past Jan. She was just on her way in, all decked out in her scrubs.
I found the van, unlocked it, and went through the emergency stash. There was a nice pleated thigh-length denim skirt there, but I wanted something that would make me look a bit older. I found a skirt, blouse, and jacket suitable for office wear. I changed into that, not forgetting to put on nylons and some conservative black closed toe shoes with one inch heels.
I got back up to the room to find some confused doctors. Jan was comforting Mom. It was finally sinking in that Dad is OK, and that the nightmare is over.
The doctors wanted to kick us all out, but Jan told them in no uncertain terms that she is Dad's personal physician, and that it's her opinion that he needs his family nearby.
After a while, Mom had to use the rest room. I went with her like a good granddaughter. Once there, we were able to chat. I explained to her that everyone in the family has new bodies waiting for them, and that I just have to switch them. I had her loosen her clothes, then shifted her first to her male body, then to her young female body, and finally to a body that's perfectly healthy, but looks almost the same as her old body. I explained to her that she will lose weight and wrinkles over the next several months.
The doctors, of course, wanted to keep Dad for observation for several days. We nixed that and asked them to give him a thorough physical, then discharge him. After a bunch of paperwork and other nonsense, the three of us went down to Mom and Dad's motor home and slept for the rest of the night.
Friday, June 24, 2022:
Butch and I woke at the same time even without the nightly training session. After a quick switch and switch back in lieu of showering, we dressed and went to the cafeteria to eat.
Dad was in great spirits this morning. He says that he feels better than he has in a long time. The doctors were still confused, but had no choice but to discharge him.
After the doctors left, we had a bit of privacy. I explained to him what happened, then switched him through his other two bodies. I explained to him how to switch himself, and suggested that he practice in the privacy of the motor home.
Mom soon came in with some fresh clothes for Dad. When she saw him, she got such a look of joy on her face that it took our breath away. I know what they're going to be doing tonight.
We told them that we have learned our lessons. We're going to drive straight to Grandma and Grandpa's house to give them their new bodies. We don't want any more close calls! We reminded them to practice shifting in the motor home, and that they only had identification for their older-looking bodies. We also told them that they need to read the journal that I left for them in the motor home.
* * * * *
We were soon on the road again. Butch drove, so I called ahead to Grandma and Grandpa. They were thrilled to hear that we were coming. They have a hard time getting around, so visiting us up north is quite a strain. Butch and I smiled at each other. That will soon change.
After a pleasant hour and a half drive, we pulled up to their house. The first thing we had to do was to assure them that their son-in-law is OK. We told them that Dad is not just OK, but better than he has been in years. We explained to them what I had done, then had to elaborate with the whole story, including my narrow escape from the security guards. They are probably still wondering who that strange character was, and how he managed to escape.
Of course, we also had to transform to the Joe and Jan that they know and love. Then, we got down to the real reason for our visit. I told them that, after such a close call with Dad, we weren't about to take any chances with them.
I started with Grandma, shifting her first to her male form, then to her pretty female form, and finally to the form that is designed to mimic her old body. Then, I did Grandpa -- first to his female form, then his young man form, and finally to his mimic form.
We explained how they could shift themselves, and watched them practice. When they were both in their same sex young forms, I saw them give each other a sly smile. I know what they're going to be doing tonight.
When you get to be in your eighties, you find yourself with more friends in Heaven than still here on Earth. They are still well loved at church, but have few other close friends. We suggested that they think about wrapping up their affairs around here. They need to go elsewhere some time in the next ten years or so.
They can either move up to our place, or over to Mom and Dad's lake house. It's common enough for people to spend their last years being cared for by relatives. After a few years of slowly losing touch with the people at church, they can simply fade away and exclusively use the new identities that Snrxl and his staff are sure to conjure up for them. They don't even need to fake their deaths or anything like that. There is plenty of time to work out the details.
We ended up spending the night. It had been a long and tiring day. Even though our bodies were fresh, our brains were about worn out. Butch and I crashed in each other's arms.
Saturday, June 25, 2022:
Even though Butch and Tiffany, then Joe and Jan, spent a considerable amount of time in the bedroom after waking up, we were up before Grandma and Grandpa. The smiles on their youthful faces matched ours when they joined us for breakfast. There were tears in their eyes when they thanked us for the best gift that they have ever received this side of Heaven. I passed that thanks on to Snrxl.
After spending an agreeable afternoon, we said our goodbyes, left them with a copy of the journal, and started on the long drive home. Then, it occurred to me that we should take care of Jan's family, too. I called her parents and asked them if they wanted some company in an hour or so. They were delighted.
We hadn't told them a thing because we like to do that in person. It took a while, but we finally convinced them that everything is for real, and that they can have the same thing. I shifted them both through their three bodies, gave them the same spiel that I gave Mom and Dad, and left them with a copy of my journal. We asked them to talk to Jan's brothers and sisters about it
We got home in the wee hours of the morning. It's a good thing that we don't require much sleep.
Sunday, June 26, 2022:
Today, Joe and Jan took the kids to church. We had to leave soon after the service to keep from dipping into the time that Jan would otherwise be storing up for a rainy day. We took Jim and Josh home, leaving Myra and Clarisse to have a good time with the teen group. We told them to call if they couldn't get a ride home. Of course, they had no problems getting a ride.
Mom and Dad called us to let us know that they had made it to the lake house. They thanked us for getting the place ready for them. We all went over for a visit. It felt good to not have to worry about tiring them out.
They like to wear their youthful bodies most of the time. They wear their older-looking bodies when driving, visiting friends, and the like. Since they seldom use their opposite sex bodies, they have an easier time with shift clothes than we do. Their regular clothes fit their youthful bodies loosely, but they are serviceable. It's more a matter of style than anything else.
Butch and I decided to take them into town for some clothes shopping. We talked them into getting one set of teen-age clothes just for fun. The rest, though, were more suitable for people in their 20s or 30s.
After that, the four of us, dressed in our teen clothes, went to the pizza joint. Mom and Dad whispered that they felt like impostors, but Butch and I replied that they'll soon enough get used to it. Then, with a wicked grin, I suggested that they might want to try doing the same thing in their opposite gender bodies. I don't think that they'll be ready for that yet.
Wednesday, June 29, 2022:
Grandma and Grandpa arrived yesterday. They had already blown money on 'kid clothes' (to them, that means clothes that are suitable for someone in their thirties or forties,) so they weren't too keen on getting any teen styled clothes. We convinced them by dressing ourselves up in our best high school fashions and dragging them to the local mall. They finally decided that it would be fun to get into character, then maybe hit the local pizza joint. Their recent experiences with their renewed bodies encouraged them to become more adventurous.
Like I always said, my sense of humor sometimes gets the best of me. While we were relaxing at the cafeteria, I sent Butch back to the van so that he could shift and dress as 'Jan the teenager'. Now, it was four girls and two guys.
Dad and Grandpa were getting mighty bored with all the talk about clothes and stuff, so I suggested that they check out the sporting section. It was then that Jan figured out what I was up to.
It wasn't too long before a small pack of teen boys came over to scope us out. Jan and I put on our best airhead blond act (even though she isn't blond.) Mom and grandma didn't know what to do.
Soon, the boys were doing their standard juvenile show-off stunts. That stuff might impress a real teenager or two, but not many. Mom and Grandma were getting nervous, which made me feel bad. I whispered to them, "Don't worry. They're harmless. Besides, Jan and I can handle things if they get too obnoxious."
The humor was quickly leaving the situation, so I decided that something needed to change. I turned to Jan. "Hey Jan, what was that you were telling me about that article in one of your medical journals... something about using a catheter to repair an aneurysm from the inside out?"
That was right up Jan's alley, of course. Also, Mom likes to keep up with the latest advances, and Grandma was a nurse in World War Two. Soon, the four of us were having an animated discussion. A little later, the boys disappeared.
Once dad and Grandpa returned, we went back out to the van. Jan switched back to Butch, then drove us to the pizza joint.
Mom and Dad and Butch and I have been diligently calling everyone in the family. We told them that this year's get-together is mandatory, no matter what other plans they might have. The fact that Grandma and Grandpa are coming up this year made it easier to talk everyone into coming. The password-protected copies of my journal that we had emailed gave them a hint of what's in store.
People have been filtering in all day. As each family comes, they are greeted warmly. Even though they have been told everything, they are surprised at how good Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa look.
The Independence Day weekend has officially started. Mom and Dad's lake house is packed, and the yard is packed with trailers and motor homes. As much as we would like to camp out there to enjoy the dawn to dusk fun, we found it best to sleep at home and just spend the day here.
"You probably wonder why I called you all here." I was in my Joe persona.
"No, we don't wonder at all. Get on with it, Joey!"
Big sisters. Sheesh!
"All right, Lizzy. What say I turn you into a guy and leave you that way? I always wanted a big brother!"
"That would just mean that I can beat you up twice as good!"
You know, trying to verbally spar with your big sister is generally a losing proposition.
That's when I got serious and started explaining about the ins and outs of using the new bodies. Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa have three bodies each because they need to be able to look like their old selves. Everyone else gets two -- a male and a female body. The same sex body will start by looking very similar to their old bodies, but will slowly start to change into a more idealized form. I suggested that they tell everyone about the diet and exercise program that they are starting. Everyone grinned.
Then I explained about how shifting will fix all injuries, remove all grime, and get rid of unwanted facial hair. A three hour reset will leave a male body with no polliwogs in the seminal vesicle, and will move a female body's cycle to just after the period.
I then shifted to my Tiffany form. "A reset every three weeks means no periods. A reset every one to two weeks is good birth control!" I shifted back.
"Also, a reset kind of acts like a haircut, nail trimming and, if you want facial hair, a beard and mustache trim. Your mind exerts control over what your body does. Our mysterious benefactors have done a bang-up job of designing these things."
I looked out at my extended family. "OK, Who's first?" I looked over at my smart-aleck big sister. "Lizzy-poo! Hows about coming here for a sec? I'm glad you have some extra big sweats on. I would hate to think that you can't follow instructions!"
I said "Alakazam!" and popped her in the forehead with my index finger. Suddenly, her male body was standing there.
"If I didn't love my brother in law so much, I would consider letting you be my big brother for a while. I always wanted to trade in my big sister for a big brother."
I changed her to her new female form, then explained to everyone how to transform. I did everyone in turn. Some didn't feel much different, but others felt healthy and full of energy. I left them all to compare notes and practice shifting.
After a while, everyone was out playing in the water. I pointed out to them that they didn't have to worry about sunburn. I also ended up reminding a couple of the kids that the scrapes and bruises that they had earned could easily be cured with a quick shift and shift back. A run to the bathroom took care of the modesty issues.
We all had a fun day, and dinner was delicious. It was doubly so because nobody had to worry about a diet or any of their old food allergies or sensitivities.
After dinner, we had our usual jam session. I was waiting to see who noticed the voice enhancements first. The increased range isn't apparent until it is tested, but the fact that our voices are smooth, and that we don't have to strain in any part of the range was quite apparent.
Soon, we put up the instruments and started singing acapella. Then, after I sang one song as Joe, then another as Tiffany, everyone started experimenting with their opposite sex voices.
While most people can think of a few things that they would like to try as the opposite sex, leave it to my family to get excited about singing.
We went straight to the lake house after church. As usual, all the guys were engaged in a construction project. This year, we're building a small shed near the place where the woods meets the water, and not too far from the dock. It'll be a good place to store oars, paddles, boat cushions, fishing equipment, and the like.
I had spent two months stuck in my Tiffany form. Part of that time was spent wondering if I would ever be male again. Then, I spent over a year having to limit my time as a male to small forays. As much as I love being Tiffany, Joe is who I really am. Fortunately, I now get five free hours a day. I didn't use them much when I was trying to help Butch embrace his male identity, but that's going to change.
I shifted to Joe, put on some work clothes, and went out to work with the guys. Butch did the same thing. Clarisse is going to have to wait until next year. Myra, of course, was perfectly happy to hang out with the girls.
Butch and I shared the same training session last night. Snrxl assured us that he has plenty of staff to help everyone that we had transformed in the past few days. He also told us that our mission is right on track.
"What is our mission, oh honorable master?"
"That would be telling," smirked Snrxl.