Something Feels Strange…

I reach up and touch the charm on my necklace and wish that I could go for a long run to sort things out.

The Major puts his arm around my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. "In the mean time, Princess, the fish is done," he says with a smile. "Let's go eat."

Chapter 11: Settling In

We are not the only guests at the Jeffers' dinner table tonight.

When the Major and I come inside, I see Laurie talking with a slender young girl who has Tom's arm wrapped around her.

I get introduced to Ashley, Tom's girlfriend–I am told that she is a regular at the Jeffers' dinner table. 

"Wow," Ashley exclaims, "You two really do look like sisters!"

I am wondering what the cover story is now. It is hard to keep this all straight. Ashley will surely know that I am not a member of the Jeffers' family.

"We were surprised too when we first met in school last fall," Laurie tells her. "It got even weirder when I found out that Kris's last name was Jeffers. Can you believe that? It was like she is a long-lost cousin or something. We've become best friends and I just had to bring her with me when we came to visit. She couldn't make it up with us yesterday, so she just got in this afternoon."

What a lame story!  I can't believe that Ashley is buying it. Good thing that she is not likely to do a background check on us.

Dinner is quite the feast. In addition to the salmon–which Tom caught yesterday–we have rice, asparagus, a green salad, and a fruit salad.  Everything tastes wonderful.  Which, in itself, is strange.  I hate asparagus! Or I did before today. The salads were also more attractive to me than usual. It would seem that this new body came with new taste buds.

After dinner, everyone pitches in to clean up and it gets pretty crowded in the kitchen. Laurie washes and I dry the dishes while Tom and Ashley put everything away.  The adults clean the grill and table then sweep the floors, leaving us teenagers to finish cleaning the kitchen.  Throughout the work, Laurie and Ashley are getting on like a house on fire.  Ashley tries to draw me into the discussion from time to time, but they were talking faster than I am used to and about subjects that are, as yet, very foreign to me–shopping and clothes. Ashley and Tom are also trying to think of a couple of boys who can take us out for a triple date. Oh joy!

Laurie glances at me from time to time, trying, apparently to read my mood. I'm doing my best to ignore her right now.  I'm not sure that I want to deal with her until I get some time to think about all the things I've heard and analyze the advice that I have been given.  I haven't had much time for pondering in the past twenty-four hours or so. If you haven't noticed, every waking minute has been filled learning my new job.  I wonder if I get overtime pay for this?

After the dinner mess is cleaned up I am dragging.  It is a little after 8pm but it doesn't feel like it. My body says it is way past bedtime at the same time the sun is still high in the sky and won't set for hours yet, setting a mid-afternoon mood. Somehow, it just doesn't seem right for the sun to be that high this late in the day.

"Kris," Laurie gets my attention. "It looks like I should show you our room"–OUR room?–"before you fall asleep on your feet.  We need to get you unpacked too."

Ashley thinks this sounds like fun and invites herself to come help so the three of us troop up the stairs to the guest room.  The Jeffers have one guest room with a queen sized bed where Laurie and I are staying, and they set up a portable bed in the home office for Aunt Jen. Great!  I get to spend the night with my girlfriend–and in the same bed–but as girl friends and Laurie is not into girls. Not what I would have hoped for a couple of days ago, but it seems to be safe enough.

Brain central is having some issues with the concept as well.  While I am now physically 100% female – with the doctor's certificate to prove it – there is still a lot of maleness left in the programming. As happened when I got dressed with Mom this morning, I am still not comfortable with violating the physical and intimate privacy of girls.  I am starting to get used to myself, but other girls are still a major problem.  Laurie and I will need to work out an accommodation for changing clothes. We'll have to do that when Ashley is not around.

As we unpack my suitcases into my half of a chest of drawers and the closet, Ashley does a thorough analysis of my traveling wardrobe. She gets a look at Laurie's also.  She seems to think that the collection should be expanded.  The California girls are, apparently, missing some Alaska essentials.  At this point I am too tired to care so I just let the conversation wash over me. Somewhere in the conversation, I get the impression that Laurie and I agreed to a shopping excursion with Ashley and her girl friends.

We eventually, get things put in their respective locations. I leave out the night shirt that I wore this morning and my face cleaning kit before we go back downstairs to see the rest of the clan.

It looks as if the fun is just getting underway, but everyone understands as I make my excuses for going to bed. 

"Princess," the major says.  It looks like I have a permanent nickname now. "I am going for a short three mile run before going to work. I understand that you are a runner. Would you like to join me?"

"I'd love a run," I reply, "but I'm so tired right now I think that I'll sleep the rest of the week!"

"Well, if you're up by 6am, you are welcome to join me," he offers.

With final good nights to all, I head up to our room.  After visiting the bathroom to make final preparations for the night, I return to the room to change into the night shirt. I also get out my running clothes on the chance that I can get up in time.

I realize that this is the first time that I have been alone with time to myself since I became a girl.  I wish that I wasn't so tired.

Taking off all my clothes, I stand in front of the full length mirror that hangs on the back of the door wearing nothing but my necklace. Brain central is sending out half hearted warnings that I shouldn't be looking at the naked girl.  The programming is pretty muddled, knowing I'm now a girl but still hanging on to some pretty strong male taboos. I ignore the warnings and start to examine the naked girl staring back at me.

Having avoided porn all my life, the closest that I have come to seeing a naked girl are underwear advertisements, scantily clad women on TV, and the bikini clad girls at the pools and beaches. Even living with three females has left me ignorant concerning the very private parts of the female anatomy. I have had a pretty good idea of what a female body looks like from those experiences but to see a real live NAKED girl is a new experience. I really feel as if I am violating the rules again.

The overall shape looks typical of a teen girl.  I have always been attracted to shapely girls. This girl–me–is a little scrawnier than I like, but she is–I am–not bad looking. I also notice that my nipples and areolas are much bigger than I would have thought. The breasts look smaller than they feel.  My blonde bush hides the complexity of my new crotch. Turning side to side, I try to see as much of my body as I can.  The rear end is rounded and sticks out in a sexy way.

I strike a number of poses and find that expressions and body language can communicate a lot of information, but no matter what I do, my male way of thinking thinks that this girl is cute without firmly connecting me with her. 

On a whim, I dig through my drawers and pull out a matching bra and panty set.  They are pink–Marla was having fun again I see. Putting on the garments, I do another examination. The panties are bikini style and the bra is a push up, I think.  I strike a number of poses and come to the conclusion that a little bit of fabric actually adds to the allure of the female form.  It is nice to leave a little to the imagination.

I am tempted to try on a few more items, but my body reminds me that I am still tired.  Somewhat reluctantly, I take off the lingerie and pull on my nightshirt. Examining myself in the mirror again I think that I am starting to understand why girls like to try on clothes. The mirror is becoming my friend.

Light is streaming in through the window as if it is mid-day. There is a heavy blind to pull down and curtains to close over the blind.  Even after they are closed, some light leaks into the room, but now it is dark enough to get some sleep.

Climbing into bed is a different experience.  The nightshirt takes some adjusting to get right.

Lying in bed, I run my hands under the nightshirt and over my new body.  Handling the breasts is interesting, both from the hand's and the breast's perspectives.  Moving my hands down my torso, the skin feels so soft and smooth. I put a hand over my crotch.  It feels so strange for it to be featureless on the surface.  I am not quite ready to dive below the outer folds, though it seems that my new anatomy is calling for the attention.  I am just not mentally prepared to go there yet.  Interruptions are also possible.

Reviewing the day's happenings, my mind is on overload and pleads to shut down.  I oblige.

---< >---

Something shifts in the bed. Slowly coming awake, I take stock of my surroundings and remember where I am. Looking across the bed I see the sleeping form of my... I'm not sure what to call her: deceiver? traitor? girlfriend? girl friend?  I sigh and resolve to have that looming talk with her today.  But not right now.  I need to go think a little.  I also need to use the bathroom.

Remembering the Major's offer for a run, I look over at the luminous numbers on the clock.  It is 6:20am–too late for the run.  I guess that I overslept. Light is filtering in around the blind so the sun is already up.  I really need to get a run in today.

Quietly extracting myself from the bed, I grab the running clothes that I set out last night and sneak out of the room to the bathroom.  After taking care of the necessary business–remembering to wipe the right direction–I get a look in the mirror.  What a mess!  At least I remembered to take off the makeup last night, but my hair is a big mess–morning hair of the worst kind.  I wonder how to avoid this?  It takes several minutes using a brush to tame it enough to put it back in a ponytail.  I decide to try a high ponytail like my sisters and Laurie often wear.  It takes several attempts to make it work, but it is obviously an amateur attempt.  It looks as if I need some more instruction and practice in hair management.

I change into my running clothes and head down stairs to find Mom Polly in the kitchen reading the morning paper with a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, sunshine," she greets me brightly. "Did you sleep well? You missed Bill this morning, but I hope that you got the rest that you needed.  You looked pretty bushed last night."

"It felt really nice to get some sleep," I reply. "I slept pretty deeply and feel much better. I'd feel better with a run.  Do you know where I could get in a short run?"

"You should ask Bill," she says, "when he gets back.  I expected him back by now, but sometimes he runs further when he is feeling good and doesn't have to be on Post too early. He better give you a few tips before you head out.  It is not any safer for a girl to be out alone here than it is any other city. In addition to the normal lot of creeps, we have animal issues.  Last summer we had two bear maulings in the park down the hill. One was a woman out running the trails and the other was a young girl like you who was participating in an all night mountain bike race. They both spent a long time in the hospital and are scarred for life. They're lucky to be alive. We also have moose issues, but nobody has been stomped by one recently. And then there is the problem with loose dogs. It is best to have a running partner, but my He-Man husband thinks he is immune to the dangers."

This is not sounding good! Maybe I better wait but I need my fix soon or I will explode.  I think better when running alone, but I forgot that girls are much more likely to attacked by creeps than are young men.  I never had any problems with the wildlife in California either.

"We didn't get a chance to get to know each other last night," my new mother observes. 

I'm pretty sure that she wants to talk.  Oh well, now is probably better than when everyone is down here.  My only problem is that I am not sure what she knows and what she doesn't.

"Sorry about that," I apologize, "I had a very long day yesterday."

"Don't worry about it, Kris," she assures me, "I understand."

Continuing, she says "Jen's told me a little bit about you.  She says that you're a very talented and mature young woman who has been recruited to help out as an undercover agent with some special project where she works. That sounds exciting, if not a little dangerous. Bill also told me about his chat with you last night. He was surprised that you only found out about the job yesterday.  I'm also surprised, given that Jen asked us to help months ago. Apparently you were the last to know. That must be unsettling. Bill says you have some issues with how you were recruited, but he thinks that you are the kind of person that can handle it. Not only that, but that you seem stronger and more intelligent than your average teenage girl. Bill has a lot of experience evaluating people, so that's a high compliment in my book."

Compliments seem to be the order of the week.  Are they just trying to butter me up? Am I getting a little paranoid?

"About today," she says getting down to business, "we have an appointment for a 10am drivers test at the DMV– Department of Motor Vehicles. You will want to study for the test this morning before we leave. If we can't find a manual around here somewhere, you can always read it on the internet."

"I was given one yesterday," I tell her.

"Good," she says. "The laws shouldn't be too much different from what you have in California, but you do need to review the manual.  We will be using my Subaru wagon for the practical test.  It'll be much easier than using Bill's big truck or Tom's little one. It would be wise to spend some time letting you drive around and practice parallel parking before we get down there.  That won't leave much time this morning."

About this time, the Major comes in from his run, slightly sweaty. "Good morning, Princess," he greets me with a smile after giving his wife a quick kiss. "I hope that you had a good night's sleep."

"Bill," Mom Polly interjects, "Kris was wondering if you could tell her where she could get in a short run this morning, I warned her about the animal hazards."

"Until someone shows you the local trails," he says, "the best thing to do is to stick to the road.  The only problem with living at the top of the road, unfortunately, is that it is all uphill on the way back, so I don't think that would be a good option right now unless you like hills, plus I don't think that you should run alone until you get familiar with the area."

Thinking for a minute, he says, "I have a young soldier in my unit that likes distance running.  I bet that I could get her to run with you this afternoon out on Post instead of doing 'real' work.  I'll check on that and let you know later this morning."

"That won't work dear," Polly says, "Jen told me that Kris will be pretty busy this afternoon. Why don't you take her for a run tonight before dinner?"

"I'll plan on it," he says before giving his wife a quick kiss and heading off for the showers.

About this time, Mrs. Mercer–Aunt Jen–wanders into the kitchen.

After greetings, she fills me in on the schedule.

"After you finish the driver's test," she says, "we'll have an early lunch then you, Laurie and I will go on Post to spend some time with Susan–Mrs. Harrison.  She has some job orientation items and training for the two of you."

Aunt Jen gives me a sharp look and glances down at my legs.  I am sitting like a boy again.  I try looking nonchalant as I bring my knees together.  I suspect that part of my training today will be more practice at acting like a girl.

Continuing, she says, "I suggest that you wear a skirt today for your driver's test. It never hurts to look good when taking a test. It makes for a good impression."

"Not only that," Polly says with a wink, "if the examiner is a man, most of the time a nice skirt will make him feel a bit more lenient.  Kind of like making puppy dog eyes at your father when you want something."

Okay–I've watched my sisters wrap my Dad around their little fingers with the puppy dog look. Heck, Laurie has done it to me more than once. I always knew it was a conspiracy. Ah–one big advantage of being a girl!

The conversation ebbs and flows as we eat a light breakfast.  I have a banana and a bagel with cream cheese.  It is much lighter than usual, but seems filling.

I spend the next hour on the back deck reviewing the driver's manual before I am told that it is time to get ready to go.  The material doesn't look too bad.

When I get back in, I see that Laurie is downstairs and dressed for the day, which I think will make things easier for me.  That is until I get up to the room and try to decided what to wear.  I could use her help, but I am not ready to work with her just yet.

Digging through my stuff, I opt for the tiered skirt and the top which I rejected yesterday.  I think they will go together.  I decide to use the bra and panty set that I modeled last night and a half slip.  I don't think that any of my three pair of shoes goes well with this outfit.  I am sure that it will look out of place, but I choose some low socks that don't even come to the ankle and my running shoes.  Forget the pantyhose for now.

After laying out the items, I grab my makeup bag and hair dryer and head for the shower.

The water feels pretty good. I don't have a lot of time again today, but I savor the feel of the soapy wash cloth gliding across my smooth skin.  I spend some time running my hands over the unfamiliar curves. Washing my hair proves to be the most difficult part of the deal.  I've never had to deal with so much hair before.  After shampooing and conditioning is done, I spend a few minutes just relishing the feel of the warm water sliding over my smooth body.  It is delicious.

Combing and brushing my hair is easier when it is wet.  I try to follow Sam's instructions with the hair dryer and brush, but it will take more practice to achieve the same results that she did. I am thinking that I'd like to experiment with different looks when I get the time.  There are so many more options than I had previously, when I was a boy.  I try a few but can't seem to get anything to look right, so I leave it hanging loose for now.  I'd ask Laurie to help, but, as I said, we need to resolve an issue or two first.

I forgot to find a robe and I can't run down the hall naked to my room. Wrapping the towel around me and gathering up my clothes and supplies, I crack the door open and look both ways.  The coast is clear.

I scurry across the hall and into our room, quickly closing the door behind me.  I turn around to find Laurie sitting on the bed looking up from my clothing selection.  This is not good.  I am not ready to deal with her right now.

"What are you doing here?" I ask icily.

"I thought you might need some help," she cautiously replies. "Plus, this is my room too."

"In case you don't know," I inform her testily, "you are not on my list of favorite people and we don't have time to deal with it right now. You know, I'd feel a lot better if you let me dress in peace right now."

"Kris," she says, "look, I am really sorry about how things turned out. Really I am. I hope we can talk about it real soon.  They have to let up on you sooner or later, but may I make a suggestion?"

"Sure," I warily reply.

"You might like to try this blouse and I think my sandals will fit you and look better than the running shoes," she suggests holding up the blouse and pointing to the shoes that she has set out.

I guess that she is trying to be helpful.  But I still think that it would be better if she left.

"Fine," I say shortly. "But can you please leave me to dress in peace?"

She looks sad.  Almost like she is going to cry.  I have always hated it when she does that.  It has been hard for me remain cold when she does that. Even though I am now a girl, my thought patterns are still heavily male and these little girl sympathy tricks still work on me. Be strong, I remind myself, get her to leave.  Remember how she deceived you.  I don't even know what her feelings are about us.

"Please?" I beg.  Where did my cold resolve go? Probably the same place that it always goes when she does this to me.  At least I am sticking to my guns here–sort of.

She looks at me with moist puppy eyes as she exits the room.  I hate that trick. I guess that I should try it now that I have a girl's body.

Once she is gone, I get down to business and have my clothes on in a heartbeat–or two–or three.  Well at least I don't waste any time in the process.  The bra thing is still unsettling and the buttons on the blouse are still a problem. My hair needs some work too, but at least the clothes are on.

During that first shopping experience I never really had time to digest the sensations caused by the skirt. Now I do. This one is loose and billows around me.  It feels strange. It also feels somehow exciting? I don't think that 'exciting' is the right word but the sensation of the slip and skirt caressing and swirling around my smooth legs is nice. Very nice. I am not quite sure how to relate to the openness under the skirt though.  It seems as if I am much freer under there, but almost like I am running around in just my underpants.

Speaking of underpants, the panties seem much more silky and smooth than any male underwear that I have ever worn.  The lightly snug feeling is nice on this anatomy.  I really notice the lack of extra equipment between my legs.  The only problem with the bikini panties is that, with their low rise, they feel almost as if they will either fall off or aren't quite all the way on.

I smooth the skirt over my butt.  It feels very nice, both to my hands and my posterior.

Noticing the time, I pull myself away from my exploration, grab my purse and head down stairs. I find that walking in a skirt feels different than walking in pants. A nice different.

By now Tom is up and preparing for the day.  He works as a lifeguard at a local pool and doesn't have to be at work until near mid-day.  He is not an early riser.

When I walk into the kitchen, where everyone is gathered, Tom looks up. "Wow!" he says.

The women, on the other hand, look at me disapprovingly.  Aunt Jen speaks up. "Laurie, will you take Kris back up stairs and see if you can help her finish getting ready to go?"

What did I miss? Maybe some makeup?

I follow Laurie up stairs where she sits me down on the bed.  We are all business now.

"Look Kris," she begins, "I know you're are not happy with me right now,"–an understatement I think–"but we need to at least work together until we can work things out.  Can you let me help you? You can't go out looking like that."

"Looking like what?" I ask suspiciously.

"Looking like a wild woman from the caveman days," she states. "Your hair is a mess and you don't have any makeup on.  Even in Alaska, women are more civilized than that."

Looking in the mirror, I can sort of see what she is saying about the hair. It could be neater. As far as the makeup goes, the girl in the mirror does look a bit less enticing than she did when Sam got through with her, so maybe some makeup would be good.  I just don't feel comfortable with doing it right now.  I need more practice time with both the hair and the makeup before I can do it myself with any kind of proficiency.

"I did the best that I could with the hair," I tell her, "and I need more practice with the makeup before I do it for real."

"Time is running short," she points out, "so I'll do it for you this time, if you will let me." It seems we are always short on time.

I nod affirmatively and she goes to work.  In just a few minutes, she has the hair under control.  The makeup takes a touch longer. She finishes me off with a hint of perfume.

She has me find and wear my running necklace. She says that a girl must have some jewelry on.

Before heading downstairs, Laurie instructs me in the proper way to sit down while wearing a skirt.  She has me practice the maneuver a dozen times on a chair in the room.

Back downstairs, the older women nod approvingly and we head for the door.

Laurie and her mother take off to explore the area a little, while Mom Polly and I go to a nearby high school parking lot where I practice driving and parking her Subaru.  I find driving in a skirt unsettling.  It feels, well, strange.  The whole skirt thing is a totally different experience.  It feels cool too.  Just a little harder to manage, but I find that I am more likely to keep my knees together under the skirt.  I also discover that I have to sit up straighter.  When I try leaning back, the low fiction between my slick panties and nylon slip causes me to slide on the seat.  Who would have thought that would be a problem?

The driving test went well.  I only missed two questions on the written test and got dinged once for improperly changing lanes on the practical examination. Had they been taking away points for unlady-like entry and exit of the car, I might have lost some more. The examiner was a woman, so I don't think that the skirt did me much good in the influence department, though I noticed that I seemed to get a better reception than another girl who was wearing holey jeans and a worn T-shirt with an obnoxious image on it. There is something to be said for looking your best when you are trying to influence someone into giving you what you want.

When it was all over I walked away with an Alaska driver's license in the name of Kristina Marie Jeffers.  The picture isn't all that bad either. Better than my California one. I stick it in my new wallet by my military ID.

While I was out on the roads with the examiner, the Major called Mom Polly to suggest that I bring my running gear out to the Post with me when I meet with Mrs. Harrison so that we can run on Post before coming home for dinner.  So we make a quick trip back to the house to gather the essentials and stick them in my backpack before meeting with Aunt Jen and Laurie for lunch at a popular restaurant downtown.

During lunch, I am quiet and try to avoid interacting with Laurie.  I don't want to get too involved with her until we can work things out and I don't want to try to work things out until I get some meditation time.  Aunt Jen, I can tell, is not happy with me over my frosty behavior. Mom Polly is just confused. The whole lunch experience was tense.

For the rest of the afternoon, I am to be in the care of my loving aunt and cousin, so Mom Polly goes to do whatever it is that she planned for the day while the three of us head out to the Post.

Since the rental car doesn't have a pass, we stop at the main gate visitors station and pick one up for the week.  We also get directions to the location of our training facility which turns out to be a large, two story, log cabin overlooking a small lake in a far corner of the post. A car is already here. It is a very quiet and peaceful setting, that is until a machine gun goes off over the hill.  There must be a range nearby!

Following earlier instructions, I have brought my computer bag with me so I carry that, my purse and my backpack full of running gear into the lodge. Laurie offers to help, but I just icily stare at her and take care of it myself.

Mrs. Harrison brightly greets us.  She is in a happy mood this afternoon until she notices my frosty demeanor.

"Is something wrong, Kris?" she asks.

Okay... I wasn't going to melt down, but I can't stop it.

"Is something wrong? Is something WRONG?" I repeat with mild hysteria, "Yes, something IS wrong. I can deal with the covert background check, the character testing, and the sudden job offer. Heck, I can even deal with the sex change–as long as it's just a temporary disguise. But I'm having some issues with Laurie right now, and no one, and I mean NO ONE, has given me any TIME to deal with it.  There has been no time for me to go running to get my head straight. There has been no time to talk to Laurie to find out what is going on with our relationship.  If I have to work with her, I NEED some TIME to deal with this! And I need it NOW."

My eyes start to water and I feel like crying. My lower lip is quivering.  I have never felt like this before!

The three women just stare at me for a few moments with surprised expressions.

"I see you have a problem," Mrs. Harrison breaks the silence.

"You think?" I reply sarcastically.

---< >---

Gabi does it again!  Thanks for cleaning this up.