You know you're in trouble when a witch tells you your aura is unnatural. Alan deals with his problem by turning to magic, but then magic seems to be making things worse. What will Alan do next, and just who is Allie? Read on and find out. :)

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Phantom Boobs
by Terry Volkirch

Part 3 of 3

The morning before the next full moon, Sarah made an unusual request before breakfast, but I listened because it involved money. I'd become a human dynamo the past three weeks doing extra chores for money. I even started looking for a part time job. I was desperate for more shopping money.

"It's a full moon tonight," she said, stating the obvious to me. "Can I stay with you tonight and see what happens?"

"I don't know about that."

"You said you experienced a lot of pain last time. Maybe I can help. Please? You won't have to pay me back for the makeup if you let me."

Forgiving my debt made the difference. I agreed to let her sit with me, thinking we'd probably do nothing but talk all night. Playing dress up didn't occur to me at all, and it's a good thing it didn't. If I thought she'd help me dress up in my girls clothes, I wouldn't have let her stay, and it might have taken several more months to find out exactly what the full moon did to me.

***

I woke up the next morning well before my radio alarm clock could do its job. I didn't see any sign of Sarah so I began my daily routine of stretching and groaning. It usually took me a long time to get out of bed.

I happily noted that a blanket covered me. I wasn't shivering like I did after the last full moon. That was an improvement so I hoped for the best and slowly managed to swing my legs over the edge of my bed. The weight of my legs helped provide leverage to get me up the rest of the way. I really hated mornings.

After finally sitting up, still wrapped in my blanket, I rubbed my eyes and realized I wasn't completely naked. I usually slept in a tee shirt and underwear, and though shirtless, I felt something hugging my derriere. It had to be underwear but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it felt different.

A chill went down my spine as I cautiously slid my blanket up my right leg to investigate. It was like being in a horror movie. I had to see.

After revealing my upper thigh, a stretchy purple cotton fabric came into view. I gasped and ripped off the blanket to find myself wearing panties!

Everything in my bedroom suddenly snapped into sharp focus and every sound seemed ten times louder than normal. Though the power saver function had turned off my monitor, the computer fan continued to hum, and I clung to that sound, trying to use it as a distraction to block a rising surge of panic.

I absently covered myself back up with my blanket, and listened to my computer fan until something else occurred to me. My computer had been shut down before Sarah joined me last night. Now I wondered why it was on. I jumped out of bed, nudged the mouse to wake up my monitor and saw the following message displayed in an open text editor window:

Thx for the clothes, Alan. They fit great!

Sarah thinks so too. :)

<3 Allie

I couldn't believe my eyes. I had to talk to Sarah, and soon. First things first though. I needed a trip to the bathroom. I pulled my panties down and used my foot to sling them under the bed. Then, after a quick, nervous glance to confirm I had the right plumbing, I threw on my bath robe and marched into the bathroom.

After locking the door, I muttered to myself and thought about how just when you think things can't get any worse, they do. So I had a bad feeling when I hung my robe on the clothes hook on the back of the door. I turned and saw my reflection in the mirror, and I screamed. I was wearing makeup!

The next thing I knew, the sound of insistent knocking filtered into my brain, and I looked up at the door from where I sat naked on the bathroom floor.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"Alan? It's me ... Sarah. Open up."

"Just a minute. I'm not quite done."

My subconscious mind still operated on some level when I got up off the floor. I sat on the toilet seat to pee and even wiped myself before I realized what I'd done. When my feminine actions finally sunk in, I gasped and practically flew off the toilet.

"Are you okay in there?" my sister called through the door.

"Yeah. Sure. Just a second."

I put on my robe and unlocked the door for Sarah. She barged in and immediately wrinkled her nose.

"Ew, Alan. Why didn't you flush?"

"I'm sorry," I said, on the verge of tears.

Sarah flushed the toilet and then turned back to look at me with concern. I think she saw the tears building up in my eyes first. Then the makeup got her attention.

"Oh, look at you. We need to remove that."

She grabbed my wrist, gently pulling me into her room and shutting the door behind us. After moving a chair, she got me to sit at her vanity and removed my makeup while whispering soothing words in my ear. It was a surreal moment but I had to admit that somewhere deep down inside myself, I liked it.

Sarah finished her job and looked me over to make sure she hadn't missed anything. She smiled at her efforts but she rapidly changed gears and surprised me by getting angry.

"You're lucky you didn't wake Mom and Dad," she growled. "What were you thinking?"

My lower lip trembled. I didn't know what scared me more, my sister or the answer to her question. I decided to try something different and focus on how I felt at that moment, and I told her.

"That I'm a freak," I said, just before the tears ran down my cheeks.

My sister's anger vanished and she bent down to hug me. She tried to console me but she couldn't stop the tears. I had to cry myself out on my own.

"Feel better now?" She asked when I'd finished.

I nodded.

"There's nothing like a good cry to make a girl feel better," she added before she could stop herself. She put her hand over her mouth but I gave her a weak smile to show her it didn't bother me.

She smiled back for a brief moment. Then her face turned serious.

"We have to talk," she said.

Unfortunately, I'd already had more than I could take. My sister tried to tell me what happened last night but I slipped into severe denial and wouldn't believe what she told me. I couldn't believe her and still keep my sanity. Having phantom body parts were one thing but what she told me went far beyond that.

"Alan," she said, trying to get my attention. "Alan!"

"No. It's impossible. I don't believe it. I won't."

"Oh! You're impossible," Sarah fumed. "Next time I'll take pictures. Then you'll have to believe it."

"Pictures can be faked."

"Alan! Please! I'm not lying. Why would I lie?"

I refused to listen to my sister or anyone else ever again about my condition. What Liz had told me in the bookstore kept replaying in my mind. I stubbornly believed that I had some rare form of multiple personality disorder and nothing else would make me change my mind. Nothing.

***

I kept my recently acquired love of shopping under control by window shopping on the Internet. I still worked hard to make money so I could supply my feminine habit but the more I bought, the easier it became to resist buying something new.

In addition to my fashion sense, I noticed another change in myself that was no doubt influenced by the last full moon. I became much more emotional, and what's more, I could easily read emotions in others. I read people's faces and body language like a book, sensing their moods and often predicting what they'd say before they said it. I amazed myself, and I think I would've appreciated the ability if I didn't associate it so strongly with girls.

I shouldn't love to shop, and I shouldn't be so emotional. I felt my male self slowly slipping away and I cried. I couldn't stop it, no matter how hard I tried.

Sarah helped me a lot. We seemed closer than ever, chatting at school during lunch and resuming our conversations long into the evening at home. I thought it counterproductive to indulge in girl talk but I couldn't help myself. It came naturally to me and effortlessly slipped out.

With less than a week before the next full moon, I realized something had changed when my mom started joining my sisterly girl talk sessions. Sarah must have told our mother something about what was happening to me. I tried to be angry about it but I couldn't bring myself to be angry at my sister or mother so I directed the anger inward. I hated the girly boy I'd become.

"No more!" I cried. "No more talk. This is crazy!"

"You're talking now," my sister teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes. Don't be silly, Alan," my mother added, but it was too late.

I didn't respond after that. I went to my room and locked the door, vowing to withdraw with renewed vigor. In my imagination, my self-imposed isolation took the form of a huge castle of ice on a mountain peak. The outer wall curved around into an oval shape to surround the keep with its single, tall tower. The round tower had a spiral staircase that led up to a room, and the room had a locked door that both prevented entrance and exit. Inside that room, I laid on a soft bed of snow, looking up at the white conical ceiling of the tower. Tears ran down the sides of my face, crystallizing into icicles. My cold fortress symbolized my supreme effort of will to keep my emotions in check, only allowing a controlled, slow trickle of sadness to escape.

***

Liz made an appearance at my house on the afternoon before the night of the full moon. I heard someone drive up and come in downstairs, and I recognized her voice after she lightly knocked on my bedroom door.

"Alan? May I please come in?"

I felt bad about it but my anger still seethed, so I ignored her. Luckily, she took the hint and left without another word. If I let her in, I imagined we'd have a good cry together and I'd be back to my new, chatty self. I couldn't let that happen.

Sarah must have contacted her because I hadn't emailed her since I withdrew from the world. Liz had sent me messages recently but I ignored them. I went to school, came home and did my homework. That's all anyone would get out of me.

As dinner time rapidly approached, I considered leaving my sanctuary to eat. My stomach eagerly encouraged me and it was hard not to give in to its incessant gurgling. I contemplated going on a starvation diet, but that sounded more like something a girl would do. I was trying to avoid being a girl.

If I went downstairs and ate dinner, it might be worse. I looked outside frequently to check for the moon and saw Liz's car still parked out front. My mother, sister and the young witch undoubtedly waited for me so they could ambush me with their feminine ways. My brain would turn to mush in no time and I'd be one of them.

"Alan! Dinner time! Come down and eat!" my mother called, startling me out of my daydream.

I couldn't ignore her so I briefly unlocked and opened my door to shout down to her.

"I'm not hungry, and I'm going to bed early! Good night!"

An eerie silence followed my proclamation until my stomach basically called me a liar by gurgling.

"Shut up," I told it. "My other personality will probably get you something after the moon rises."

My words had no effect on my hunger. With a heavy sigh, I flopped back onto my bed and tried to muffle my stomach with a pillow. I spent the next 45 minutes or so like that until the moon rose and the pain made me black out.

***

I woke up long before my alarm, just as I had after the previous two full moons, and started the long slow process of getting up. It didn't help that my bed felt so nice and warm and comfortable. I'd do anything to stay in it.

As I laid there, stalling, I tried to remember past last night's intense pain but couldn't recall a thing. I stubbornly kept trying, staring up at the ceiling until a soft, fuzzy lump under my left arm got my attention. There, under the blanket, I saw my sister's favorite pink plushie.

"Hello Loopy," I mumbled, half awake. "What are you doing here? Are you lost? Poor little bunny."

I cuddled the little toy rabbit and giggled at my silliness until I realized that I'd regressed once again. I'd become more feminine than ever.

"You stay here and keep the bed warm," I told Loopy. "I have to get up and go to school."

I moved the little plushie's head up and down like it agreed with me. Then I tucked my blanket around it and looked at it for awhile. I imagined it quickly falling asleep and softly snoring, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought.

I'd been cursed with a love of fashion, excessive emotion and an appreciation of everything cute. Is that what girls are all about? Had I become a male girl? The thing that bothered me the most was that I didn't really feel any different. Had I always been feminine, deep down inside?

I crawled out of bed and carefully got dressed. No more throwing on clothes for me, I thought, while at the same time shaking my head. It wasn't like me to care so much about how I got dressed.

In spite of a mostly calm exterior, a severe inner conflict raged. Insanity beckoned and it was all I could do to keep from running through the house, screaming. The least little thing could've set me off, but luckily, nothing did.

Just before I left my room, I looked around. It seemed strangely quiet that morning and I realized my computer wasn't on. There were no notes or messages. The only thing out of the ordinary was waking up with Loopy. I couldn't remember the last time I slept with a plushie, but it didn't bother me at all.

I cautiously entered the bathroom and found my face free of makeup. So far, so good. I finished there and then bounced downstairs to find a deserted kitchen. In fact, the whole house was empty. I enjoyed a peaceful breakfast by myself, humming little tunes while I ate a bowl of cold cereal.

As I rinsed my empty bowl, suspicion crept up on me. Everything was too quiet, too perfect. It had to be the calm before the storm. I imagined some sort of intervention with Liz and my family forcing me to go to a hospital for a sex change operation. I left the house for my long walk to school and my inner conflict continued.

I got through the rest of that morning by letting my mind wander wherever it wanted. I pretended I had a girlfriend who produced all of the feminine thoughts, while I played the stereotypical male. I simply watched my date, humoring her indulgences to soften her up for some kissing and fondling later on.

Time actually passed rather quickly with my daydreaming, and the lunch bell surprised me. So did Sarah. She didn't show up. I ate alone and remained lost in thought.

My Physical Education class eventually interrupted my escape from reality, rudely reminding me that I was still a boy on the outside. The time had come to pound the floor with my feet while bouncing and throwing a large round ball around. Most people called it basketball but I called it hell. Basketball had to be one of my worst sports. I bounced enough on my own with my phantom boobs. I didn't need to do it with a ball.

Class started in the usual way, with me being picked last for a team and standing off to one side, trying not to get in anyone's way. Everything changed though when our opposing team got the ball. What remained of my inner boy compelled me to make a last desperate attempt to salvage some masculine pride. I actually got involved and used my virtual invisibility to intercept the ball. No one on either team expected it. They all stood with their mouths hanging open while I managed to clumsily make my way to our basket. I threw the ball up to make a lay-up and I scored. I actually scored!

Of course everyone knew it was a fluke. I scratched and clawed the rest of the game but I didn't score again. I had a moment of glory and returned to being the Amazing Clod Boy.

Receiving a liberal dose of insults actually helped me make it through the rest of the day at school. I regained some measure of emotional numbness, wearing it like armor to protect against the barrage of feminine thoughts.

I had one more class that I sailed through before school ended. Then I slowly made my way home. I walked slowly and carefully as usual and kept my thoughts tucked away. I hoped that staying on autopilot would allow me to get home safely.

Unfortunately, my mind began wandering once again. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself walking on the balls of my feet as if I was wearing high-heeled shoes. The first thought that occurred to me was that walking in high-heeled shoes wasn't so difficult. Immediately after that, my thoughts involved lots of profanity and embarrassment. I blushed and returned to my usual gait.

Just a little farther, I kept telling myself. I was only a few blocks from home. In 10 or 15 minutes, I'd be lying on my bed with my mind imprisoned in the tower of my imaginary ice castle. It was Friday so I'd have the whole weekend to get myself under control before I started another five days of torture.

I kept my eyes on the ground just in front of my feet so I didn't notice the cars parked in front of my house until I almost walked into them. Both cars looked very familiar and I shivered with dread. Bernice and Liz were visiting.

Making plans to sneak inside didn't help. Everyone had been watching for me from the house and they poured outside before I could even think of running. Liz took one of my arms and Bernice took the other.

"Hi Bernice," I said, thinking quickly to try an escape. "I haven't seen you for awhile. How about a hug?"

"Nice try, Alan, but I'm not letting go," she replied. "We can hug later."

The two women led me into the living room and kept a firm grip on me the whole time. When they sat on the couch, they forced me to sit down with them. There was no escape.

"Welcome home, Alan," my mother said. "We've all spent the day working very hard so please watch the television. We have a video to show you."

My father stood together with my mother in the dining room, and they both watched me closely, waiting to see how I'd react. It was unnerving, like being under a microscope. Their eyes held mine and I couldn't look away until motion caught my eye to break the spell.

I turned to see my sister kneel by the television set and feed a DVD into our DVD player. After a minute or so, the DVD player finished loading the disk and a video began playing.

The first image consisted of a light blue screen with black letters that read, "Alan's bedroom on Thursday, December 11, 2008, the night closest to the full moon. Full moon occurs at 8:38 A.M., Friday, December 12."

I next recognized my closed bedroom door and heard my sister's voice.

"Mom. Dad. Alan has a very strange and severe reaction to the full moon. You stand and watch from the doorway while I go in and video tape it."

Someone opened my door and I saw myself lying on my bed. My face contorted with pain and dripped with sweat. I looked horrible, but that's not what bothered me.

"Hey!" I shouted. "You broke into my bedroom!"

Sarah paused the DVD player.

"No," my father said calmly. "We used our master key ... the one we keep for emergencies ... and unlocked your door to help you. Now please keep watching the screen."

"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry."

The video resumed and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I couldn't believe what I saw next.

Random parts of my body pulsed and slowly changed shape. Muscles smoothed and what little facial hair I had seemed to get finer and shorter until I could no longer see any. My face became rounder with prominent cheekbones and a small, delicate chin. My hands still rested on the pillow that I'd used to cover my noisy stomach and I could see them getting shorter and more slender. Since I'd been wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, I didn't expect to see any more changes, but then two rounded mounds pushed out slightly on my chest. With the addition of breasts, the change appeared to be complete, and I saw a girl lying on my bed. She opened her eyes, slowly propped herself up on one elbow and looked towards the video camera.

"Hi Sarah," she said, smiling. "Did you make it in time to video tape everything?"

I heard my sister's voice answer, "Yes, and look who else is here to see you."

The girl looked to one side of the camera, suddenly noticing she had a larger audience. Her eyes widened a little and she spoke nervously.

"Hello Mother. Hello Father."

"Alan?" I heard my mother's voice say, followed quickly by my father's voice.

"Holy shit!" he yelled.

I started whimpering then and Sarah paused the DVD player to let me try to adjust to what I'd just seen. According to the video, I transformed into a girl by the light of a full moon. I was a weregirl!

"No!" I wailed. "It's not me! I'm not her! It can't be!"

Tears ran down my cheeks and all I could think about was getting out of that room, away from that shocking video. I couldn't watch any more. It destroyed my sense of self and I felt even worse than a freak. I felt ... broken. My fragile male ego shattered into millions of pieces and fell away, leaving me to drift slowly away into nothingness.

I slumped down on the couch and my crying got worse, causing my two guards to relax and cry along with me in sympathy. They also got sloppy. They loosened their grip, and I noticed.

Before anyone could react, I launched myself from the couch, pulling free from Bernice and Liz. I ran upstairs to my sanctuary. I had to escape at all cost. My family and friends shouted after me but they were too slow to stop me.

I slammed my door shut and flopped on my bed. I tried lying on my stomach but my phantom boobs bothered me too much so I rolled over into a fetal position. Then I waited for the inevitable visit. I knew I wouldn't be left alone in my current state.

I wondered who it would be. Who would draw the short straw and have to console me? Whoever it would be would have their hands full, but some part of me hoped they'd be successful. I couldn't go on living like I had for much longer.

Luckily, it wasn't very long before someone knocked on my door.

"Alan? It's Liz. May I please come in?"

"Why don't you use the master key and barge in?" I replied sarcastically.

"I don't want to come in uninvited, Alan. Please?"

"It's unlocked. Do what you want."

Liz came in and sat on the edge of my bed. She lightly placed a hand on my side and I flinched, but I let her keep it there. It felt mildly reassuring.

"I'm very sorry about all this," she said. "I know it seemed cruel to force you to watch that video but you should know that it was really your idea."

"Huh?"

"Well ... I mean it was Allie's idea. She's the girl you become, the girl you truly are inside."

"What?"

"Search your feelings, Alan. You know it's true. You created a thin facade to match your male body. Allie is trapped inside you, and she's desperate to come out. It's obvious to me now."

I just grunted. I didn't know what to say to that.

"You remember those questions I asked when we first met? Most of your answers were very feminine. Everything about you tends to match your phantom body. I think you've denied your true self so strongly that something inside you snapped and started you down this path."

"That's stupid. I'm a boy."

"On the outside, but not inside where it counts."

She knelt down and looked deep into my eyes. I could feel her sweet breath on my face and I could sense her compassion and concern, radiating out to warm my heart. It was so nice, but then I felt something else forcing its way back, something all too familiar. The darkness returned and I finally recognized it. After denying my feelings and true nature for so long, I finally had a label for my underlying problem.

"I'm scared," I told her. "I'm really, really scared."

"I know it's scary but you have to let go. You have to free your inner girl before the denial kills you. Please Alan. Let go. Let go and live."

"I can't!" I cried. "It's too hard. Please. Help me."

"There, there, Young One. I'll help you," she said softly. "Let my love set you free."

She moved forward and surprised me with a kiss. She kissed me with a passion I imagined was only reserved for lovers, and it briefly made me wonder if I was dreaming. My hesitation didn't last long though. I began to kiss back, and as I did, I felt my male facade slowly slip away. The last traces disappeared just before an intense pain hit and caused me to black out.

***

"Allie? Wake up. Wake up, Allie."

I heard Liz's voice and felt her gently shaking me. I opened my eyes and she smiled down on me.

"Oh!" I gasped. "He's gone. Alan is gone! I still have all his memories but I don't feel him inside me any more."

"Interesting," said Liz. "I suspected that would happen."

"Oh Lizzy! It was so awful!" I cried. "I hated being a boy!"

Liz bent over and hugged me on my bed while she whispered soothing sounds in my ear.

"There, there, my Love. Everything's going to be okay. I don't think Alan will be coming back."

She kissed me lightly on the lips and pulled back before I was ready to end it. I pouted, trying to get more but she smiled and shook her head.

"Not yet, my Sweet. You're still too young."

"But we're only seven years apart," I whined. "Why can't we be together?"

"Seven years is too great a difference for most people to accept for someone as young as you. Wait until after you start college. Then we'll do more than talk," she said with a wink.

I folded my arms and frowned, but nothing I could do would change her mind. Even for the few hours we chatted during the last full moon, we knew we were soul mates. Still, she insisted we wait. It drove me crazy.

"That doesn't mean we can't do things together," she added. "All great relationships are built on a foundation of friendship. We can be the best of friends. You'll just have to be patient."

And patient I was.

***

Life improved drastically after I became a girl. It became a bed of roses. Sure, I got stuck by a thorn now and then, but the sweet scent and beauty of the roses more than compensated for any hardships.

A year after I graduated from high school, Liz and I became a couple, and we dated for two years. We were handfasted three months ago and have lived together in her little gray house ever since. I've helped her tend to her herb garden and she's taught me about witchcraft. It's been a sweet, happy life and I wouldn't have traded it for anything.

I'm currently a senior in college studying Astronomy, and I go by Allison, or Allie to my family and friends. Every full moon I look up and thank my lucky stars that I found Liz. Without her, I'd still be suffering in the wrong body, and I might never have experienced the love she's shown me. I'll never again deny the power of love or the beauty of my feminine spirit.

*** The End ***

 © 2008 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.