"Mom, how could you do this?" I asked looking at the birth certificate in my hand. "This just feels so wrong. Sure, it makes my life a little easier, but seriously. It's against the law."

"Actually, your using it is the only point where we broke the law. See, as long as the county provides it to me, and I only give it for the use of the person depicted, then at worst it is a failure to follow procedure on the part of the county recorder."

She got a thoughtful look on her face, "Actually, now that I think of it, you are only breaking the law if they can prove that an ID is false, and the burden of proof is on the government."

"Wait, so, since it is impossible to prove I'm anyone else, they have to accept this as mine? Especially since no one else can claim it?"

"I'm no lawyer, but from what I know of the situation. . ."

I looked at Mr. Nibs who was sitting in the back seat and grooming himself. "You did this didn't you?"

'Actually, I think your mom is correct. The only reason ID systems even work in the first place is the supposed infallibility of the issuing agency. If the issuing agency recognizes you as the person they are identifying, then it is their responsibility to repudiate their own identification, which in this case, is impossible.'

I didn't feel right about this, but I was outnumbered two to one. I had a completely legal birth certificate, even if it was issued under false pretenses. I had requested the issuing of a Social Security card and number. Soon I would have a new drivers. . .

"I have to take my driving test again!?"

"It's worse than that, Abbie. You have to take driver's ed again. Oh, and get your GED."

This just kept getting better and better.

We drove home, as I really wasn't feeling up to my first foray into the mall, since I'd just found out that I would be losing all of my credentials in the world. I needed something that would make me feel. . .in touch with my life.

Since it will be important for the story at this point, I guess I have to relive the most painful memory I have.

About fourteen years ago, I was on a basketball scholarship. I was damn good at what I did. When other kids went camping with their dads, I practiced basketball. While they played video games, I played basketball. All four years of high school, I played basketball.

There is a certain amount of physical ability that is inborn talent. The rest is perseverance.

I usually hit 1 in 2 two point shots during game conditions, and 2 in 5 out in three point land. Sure, that wasn't in the NBA, but it was during my college career. I'd promised my mom that I would finish college before going on to the NBA. What is so stupid, is that I never would have been on that bicycle in that intersection if I'd never made that promise to my mom.

I was clipped by a Fed Ex truck. Well, that is how the cops recorded the incident.

Yeah, I got a settlement from the company, but it was barely enough to cover medical bills. They had to rebuild my right knee. They told me that it wouldn't stand up to the punishment of playing a full game.

I didn't believe them and was out on the court as soon as I healed up. It almost exploded on me when I came down from a rebound in practice.

Yea, I used the other half for the second reconstruction.

Mom had promised to pay for the rest of my schooling, but I'd dropped out as mentioned before. Without the need to keep up my grades to play, I had no incentives to go to school anymore.

Yeah, I recognize how immature I was acting.

So, we got home, inflated the ball up to regulation pressure, and went out to my old friend the hoop.

I wanted to see if I still had it, so I began sinking free throws. No, I meant sinking them. Outside of games I usually hit somewhere around 992 per 1000 shots. Yes, I kept track when it mattered.

I began walking around inside the three point line. Flat footed, I was able to get about 3 in 4. I took a deep breath, and began doing jump shots. That little extra height made the difference and I was hitting closer to 7 in 9.

I smiled at that. My mom was rebounding for me, so I really started warming up. Evasion drills. Layups. Hook shots. Then I started playing HORSE with myself. I used to do that for hours. Setting up impossible shots, and then making them twice.

I hadn't felt this alive in years. I leapt up to try and grab the rim. . .

"You've got to be kidding me!"

I couldn't jump high enough. Apparently, even though I had the muscle memory, either the loss in a couple of overall inches in height, or simply being out of shape, I couldn't even get within a foot of the rim.

"Honey, I don't think there are many female players who can dunk."

The cool air on my legs felt good, as I walked in drenched in sweat, and then something occurred to me. I'd been doing jump shots in a loose, oh so short, skirt.

I blushed all the way to my toes.

'If I were a man, I can tell you it would have gotten MY motor running. The only thing that would have made it better, from my perspective, would be if you had a nice hairy tail, Mouse.'

I made a swipe for him with my foot, but catlike he hopped out of the way. Shaking my head I went upstairs for a couple of towels and went into the bathroom. I showered, feeling better for the exercise, and squeezed myself into another tiny bra.

"Mom! I want to go bra shopping."

"Ok, Abbie dear. We can do that tomorrow."

I walked down and showed her the current bra I was wearing. She took one look at the flesh pouring over the top and changed her tune. "Ok, get a shirt on and let's head out to get you some bras."

We drove to the mall, and I followed my mom into a small boutique. The dressing area was screened from the front, and I would be able to parade the bras for my mother without worrying about anyone from outside the store seeing me.

The pretty blonde saleswoman turned to me as soon as we got to the back.

"Would you feel more comfortable if I measured you out here, or in the dressing room?"

"I don't know. . .I've never been measured for a bra."

"Well, you'll have to take off the one you're wearing."

"Um, uh." I blushed red. Crimson. I just kept blushing.

"Ok, we'll do it in the dressing room."

I stripped off the tee shirt, and then the bra. "Well, we know you're not a 34A."

She measured me just under my breasts making sure the tape was snug. "Let your arms fall to your sides please."

Then she measured across my nipples. I made sure to keep my arms down this time.

"Well, you fall right between a 36B and a 36C, so we'll try a couple of different brands for each size. You'll probably feel most comfortable in a padded 36C, but we'll have to see."

"Un, I was wondering, well, do they come in front clasp?"

"Of course. I'll get those for you."

So, I tried on bras, paraded them for my mom, and then tried on others. I have to say, whomever invented the front closure was a genius. They were actually the most comfortable fit of any of the bras I tried.

So, I ended up getting the 36C bras, each of them with the front closure. Some of them even had lace on them. It was itchy, but my mom said that it was pretty on me, so I figured I might as well pick it up.

I was walking out of the store when it hit me. I'd just purchased something because I looked pretty in it. I really hoped that wouldn't become a habit.

Mom started heading for the car, but I called a halt to that.

"Mom, since we're here already, I figure I at least need some workout clothing. I don't want to flash everyone every time I go for a jump shot."

"Well, I have to admit that would probably be a good idea."

And so began my first foray into shopping. We would no sooner finish one store when we would realize there was something else we just had to have.

It wasn't until the third time I saw my mother in a dress that was absolutely her that I realized I was having a good time. I also realized I was being very girly.

'Took you long enough to notice.'

"What did you do to me?"

'Other than change you into a girl? Nothing'

"Wasn't that enough? I am going all girly."

'Going girly? There's nothing going about you and girly,'

I glared at him. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting he might be right.

No, not that I wanted to be a girl or anything.

But, I was kind of taking a back seat role to my entire life waiting for someone to come in and sweep me off my feet and lead me into. . .something. I'd never gotten much further than that before realizing that guys didn't get knights in shining armor.

I mean was it too much to ask to have a pretty female knight in shining armor?

It was at that moment that I realized I hadn't thought about sex once since I woke up this morning.

I know, shining armor and sex, perfect segue.

Anyway, before this whole mess, you may remember that I tried to pick up the girl who was trying out for the same position I was going for. I had a healthy libido. Sometimes it was a little too healthy..

Now, on the other hand? I felt literally neutered. I couldn't seem to think of anything that excited me.

Look, I admit that I've read my share of erotica online, and some of it even included characters who were changed suddenly from males into females and proceeded to have sex with everything on two legs.

Some of it was a lot more circumscribe, but they always went out for sex.

Not one had I ever read where they were changed and just not interested any more.

"Hey, what the. . ."

'Language, young lady.'

I glared at him. "Mr. Nibs."

'That wasn't nice!'

I was completely knocked off my train of thought but something that occurred to me. "Mister Nibs."

He cringed, but then relaxed, 'What in the world? How did you. . ?'

"Simple, I change how I thought of your name. Apparently I change the symbol image of the sound in my head and it changes how I say it."

Mr. Nibs body language suddenly changed. He almost looked afraid.

'I just realized that I had a pressing engagement elsewhere.'

And with that Mr. Nibs disappeared from the store.

After a short nap. This sunny rock is so comfortable.