Link: Curse of the Werewoman Title Page and Description

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Chapter 1 - Scratch One Guy

Looking up from his newspaper, John smiled at the woman approaching his desk. She was fairly attractive and in her late twenties, brown hair cascading around her shoulders that bounced as she moved. Quickly glancing over her, he couldn't help but sigh.

"May I help you, Miss?" he intoned evenly, keeping his emotions tightly controlled.

"Yes, maybe you can." she stated nervously as she sat in the seat on the far side of his workspace. "I... I'm looking for a new house. Well, it doesn't have to be new, just new to me, I mean... um... know what I mean?"

Nodding slowly, he tried to put her at ease. "Well, we do have a number of houses available for sale, Miss..."

"Um... Mrs., actually." she corrected him as she fidgeted in her seat. "Mrs. Brookes. Janice." she added her first name on, almost in afterthought.

With a hand extending to her cordially, he shook hers briefly before sitting back down and clearing his throat. "Nice to meet you! Do you prefer Mrs. Brookes or Janice?"

"Janice, please." she answered, only slightly more at ease.

"Very well, Janice!" he settled into his usual spiel. "What exactly is it that you're looking for in a home? Lots of rooms? Storage space? Location?"

"Storage space... I guess." she almost stammered. "I don't really care where it is. I... it needs to have a basement... or a wine cellar... or something."

While a few places in his listings sprang to mind right away, his curiosity was piqued. "Alright, we have a number of homes that could fit that bill! May I ask what it is you need below-ground storage for? I ask because an actual wine cellar is different from a basement, so if you intend it for storing actual wine bottles..."

"Oh!" Janice interrupted him. "No, no! Nothing like that! I just... I need a secure storage space for some... um... valuables. I just need to make sure that no one can get out... I mean in... easily!"

Pursing his lips a moment, John thought briefly about her slip of the tongue and nervousness and wondered if he should go forward with his usual sales pitch or excuse himself and call the police to report a possible kidnapping. Figuring that no one would be that obvious, he chalked it up to the typical homeowner's worry about spending so much money on a place to live.

"Here! Why don't you take a look at these property listings..." he offered as he printed out a short list of homes that had basements and cellars in the area. "...meanwhile can I get you something to drink? Water? Tea?" with a Valium dissolved in it? he concluded to himself.

"Water is fine!" she half laughed, taking the papers with a shaking hand.

Going off to the refrigerator, John shook his head and ran a hand through the short dark hair on his head. That lady's almost a basket case! he mused. Wonder what her deal is? Deciding that he didn't care so long as she had a good credit score and a down payment, he grabbed a water and checked himself quickly in the mirror on the front of the fridge door. Picking a tiny speck of sleep out of his soft brown eyes that he'd missed that morning, he nodded curtly at the image before turning to head back to his desk and the strangely nervous woman. Sitting down across from her again, John waited for her to finish going through the papers as he placed the bottle of water in front of her.

Handing the papers back, Janice shook her head. "I... I'm sorry. I realized that the basement needs to have a bathroom as well. These won't work."

Checking his computer and running a few filters, John shook his head and frowned. "I'm sorry, Janice. It doesn't look like any properties in this area have what you're looking for." Thinking a moment he began to smile a little. "Of course, if you'd be willing to remodel, I have one property that could fit your bill!" Printing out the listing that was for a home that hadn't sold for two years, he mentally crossed his fingers as he handed it to the woman.

Glancing over the listing, Janice's nervous frown very nearly smiled for a moment. "Um... yes! I... I think that might work! It's a little cheap for so much square footage, though. Why is that?"

"Because it's so far out of town." he sighed, expecting the usual decline at this point in the offer of the seemingly cursed property. "Six miles out of town. The nearest neighbor is a quarter mile away, and it's on the highway." He was astonished when the usually bad news brought a genuine smile to her face.

"Really!" she almost sang. "It sounds perfect! My husband won't disturb anyone out... um..." Her smile began to falter briefly before she recovered. "That... that is, he does... um... shop... things... that are sometimes noisy. No close neighbors means no complaints!" she recovered quickly.

Shrugging, John stood up. "Well, I see in your application that you already own a home in town, one valued at twice the price of the old Foster place. With your equity and good credit, even in this depressed housing market, I think we can make a good deal on it quickly and leave you enough financing for a ten thousand dollar cash-out of your current equity, which would let you do the remodeling you're after!" Smiling at her softly, he turned on the charm. "When would you and your husband like to go see it?"

"No!" she nearly shouted. "That is, my husband is too busy for that! I... I can look at it myself and just take pictures for he... him to look at later!"

"O... kay." John sighed. "When would you like to see the property, then?"

"Is today too soon?" she inquired hopefully.

Grabbing his jacket and keys, John shook his head. "Not at all! You can follow me over and see if it's your new dream home!"

Opening the door to his own home that evening, John closed it behind him quietly. Nearly an hour late from work, he could smell the pasta and bread cooking. "Honey! I'm home!"

"Finally!" Diane shouted from the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, honey!" he apologized as he dropped his keys and wallet on the table near the door. "I had to run out to the Foster place this afternoon!"

"That place way out on the highway out of town?" she scoffed. "Who wanted to look at that place!"

Making his way into the kitchen, he smiled at the sight greeting him. Diane was already out of her nurse's scrubs and had changed into a nice blouse and skirt. Still in the 'honeymoon' phase of their eight-month-old marriage, he sighed at the lovely sight of the gracious curves of her body. Slipping up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her honey-blonde natural curly hair gently out of the way and kissed her neck lovingly.

"Thanks for making dinner tonight, honey." he almost whispered. "I know it was my night. I was actually looking forward to pampering you tonight, not the other way around!"

"Yeah, likely story!" she dismissed his apology humorously. "Why don't you go get cleaned up for dinner? You're a little ripe and need a shave!"

"Mmm!" John held her a little more tightly. "Feeling good tonight?"

Shrugging off his obvious advances with a laugh, Diane pushed him away playfully. "I'm serious, John! Go get clean! Fun later!"

"Anything you say, love!" he bowed deeply toward her. "Back in a few!"

Running quickly through a shower to get the sweat of the day off and hastily dressing in a nice polo and slacks, John managed to return to the main room in time to see his loving wife setting the table for two, complete with candles. Noticing the squishy feeling in his belly at the romantic gesture, he quickly shook it off and headed into the dimly lit room with a jaunty strut.

"Let me help you with that!" he offered, taking the shrimp pasta out of her hands.

"Don't think that gets you out of making dinner tomorrow!" Diane joked as she watched him delicately place the bowl between the two place settings. "We'll switch up the meals so it's something you don't burn, but after tonight you owe me two nights of cooking!"

Turning back to face her with a smile, John nodded. "Of course, honey! I wouldn't try and weasel out of our deal! Equal partners with an equal split of the housework! You know I love taking care of you when you get home after a hard day!"

"I know." she answered skeptically. "Makes me wonder if you're human!"

Wrapping his arms around her waist again, this time face-to-face, he put a gentle and quick kiss on her lips. "Very funny! Shall we sit and eat or just take pot-shots at each other all night while your delicious food gets cold?"

Sitting together and after a brief time of quiet while they dug into the meal, Diane broke the silence. "So... the old Foster house, huh?"

With a bite still in his mouth, John nodded and chewed quickly to answer after taking a drink. "Mmm Hmm! Couldn't believe it! She almost jumped at it after barely looking around for five minutes! Took a few pics with her phone for her husband to look at, and said she'd take it! Just need to finalize the paperwork, get them both down to the office to sign, and it's a done deal! The company stands to make twice what that place is worth when we sell her old house!"

Taking it all in, Diane knew a little about real estate from what John had told her. "So no credit problems? I mean, what's the downside?"

"None, as far as I can tell." he answered with a shrug. "Apparently he does a lot of things in a shop, probably woodworking or something, and I guess their old neighbors were complaining about the noise, so moving a bit out of town is what they needed. It's win-win! Should close before the end of the month! After that, I'll need to run out there again and do the whole agent bit... turning over the keys and all that. This sale should net me a good bonus next month!"

"Good enough to make a down payment on our own house?" Diane asked, glancing around their tiny apartment.

"Maybe!" he answered coyly. "Remember that place down the street from your parent's house? Just off Eighteenth Street?"

"The Jackson's house?" she clarified. "The white one with the lavender trim and beautiful huge yard?"

"I have a surprise!" he smirked. "The Jacksons are moving next month to Portland so they can be closer to little Davie now that he's in college! I've put a clamp on their listing with Barbara! All I need is your OK and I'll pull a thousand from our savings for earnest money to hold it and next month's bonus check plus our savings will get the down at less than four percent!"

Stunned into disbelief, Diane stopped chewing her bite and just stared at him. Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath. "Really? So soon? I mean we have a year lease here that isn't up until January! That's four months from now! How can we afford it if we break the lease?"

"I have some money squirreled away." he blushed as he picked up his wine-glass and swirled it around slowly. "Just a little bit from each bonus check I made, but it added up to enough... if you want the Jackson house, that is."

"John!" Diane dropped her fork with a clatter. "Are you serious? You know I've wanted that house since I was ten!" Getting up quickly, she rounded the small table quickly and kissed him fiercely. "Yes! Oh, John! You're wonderful!"

Enjoying his moment, John smiled as he looked up into his wife's eyes. "No, you're wonderful! I just want you to be happy, honey! You're not mad that I was holding back on some of my bonuses? I... I just wanted this to be a surprise!"

Pulling him to his feet, Diane's expression turned from joyful to seductive. "Oh, I'm surprised, alright! Now, how about I surprise you!" Leaning in, she kissed him passionately for several minutes, getting both of them quite in the mood.

Just as she started to pull him toward their bedroom, John leaned over and blew out the candles.

Three weeks later, the sale was closed on the Foster home, ensuring John's September bonus. It was a warm and sunny afternoon the following Monday when he called Janice to give her the good news.

"Janice! This is John Henderson at Blue Moon Realty! Great news! We're ready for you and your husband to come down and sign the final papers! And what do you know, last night was a Blue Moon!" he added cornily.

Sighing in relief, Janice glanced over at her husband who had called in sick that morning, as he had more and more often lately. "That's great, John. Listen... can... can we make it for later this afternoon, Frank isn't feeling... so good, today."

"Nothing serious is it?" John asked concernedly.

"No!" she replied quickly. "Nothing catching, anyway. Just one of those stomach things, you know?"

Laughing lightly, John nodded. "That's fine! I've had my shots! We close at seven, so I'll need you to be here by six-thirty to sign everything. Then we can go out to the house and finish up there!"

Glancing at the time, Janice tried to figure out how quickly they could get down to sign the papers so as to not be so close to sunset when they would be finished. "Um... we'll try to be down there by three... four at the latest."

"That's fine!" John sighed with a smile. "It'll only take about half an hour, then the drive out to the house to go over a last few things, turn over the keys and she's all yours! You'll have until the end of October to move out of your old house, so that gives you plenty of time to get things..."

"Yeah, OK." she interrupted impatiently. "We'll see you then! Bye!" Closing the call quickly, Janice stared at her husband Frank, holding his stomach and rocking gently back and forth as beads of sweat ran down his brow. "Frank? We got the Foster place!"

"Great!" he moaned through gritted teeth. "Perfect timing!"

"It'll be fine, Frank!" Janice chided him. "Once we're out of town and have the room set up, we'll have somewhere to be that'll keep us safe each time! No more breaking out to cause chaos and end up a laughing stock!"

"Sounds perfect!" he grunted through another spasm of pain. "A nice little cage to lock the bitch up!"

"You know, this would have been easier on you if you'd only have..."

"Never!" he barked at her. "I can tough out anything! Even this!" Groaning as another spasm rocked his belly, he fell to the floor in the fetal position.

"Don't be such a baby, Frank!" Janice chastised him. "We need you to get up, get looking presentable, and go down with me to sign! I can't sign for both of us! You need to man-up and do it!"

Gathering his ebbing strength, Frank pushed past the pain, crawling up onto his knees before taking a moment to rest. Inhaling, he held his breath and planted a foot firmly on the floor and pushing himself upright while his hands still held his aching belly.

"Right." he mumbled. "Time ta' man-up!"

When John looked up at the clock and saw that it was a quarter after six, he nervously looked down at his watch, and then at the time displayed on the computer's clock. Each agreed with the other, making his stomach tie into nervous knots. Checking the paperwork again, he made sure everything was perfect and ready for the initials and signatures that would make his love's childhood dream come true. If they don't sign today, the deal's gonna fall through, I'll miss my bonus goal, we won't be able to make the down, and we lose the earnest money!

Just as he was about to pick up the phone and call the Brookes residence again, he heard the distinctive chime of the front door opening. Snapping his head up, John sighed in relief as he saw Janice walking in with a man, presumably the mysterious mister Brookes. Standing quickly, he smoothed his hair back unconsciously and straightened his shirt and tie.

"Mr. and Mrs. Brookes!" he exhaled in greeting. "Glad you made it! We have plenty of time to go over the papers and..."

Frank dropped into the chair opposite the real estate agent like a sack of wet wheat. "Just show me where to sign!" he grumbled while holding his stomach and sweating bullets.

Shaking John's outstretched hand briefly, Janice gracefully sat in the seat next to her husband. "Sorry about that, John. Frank's just... not well. You might not want to shake his hand. It's not catching... right now... but no taking chances, right?"

With a heavy gulp, John sat back down. "Alright. We'll just get right to it then! I'll go over each section, you'll initial that you understand it, and we'll get through them as quickly as possible to get you signed and done!"

At a few minutes to seven, Frank Brookes scrawled his name onto the final line, followed closely by Janice signing hers. Taking the papers and giving them a quick review, John smiled.

"All done! Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Brookes! You have your new home!" Affixing his own signature to the documents, he tore out the copies for the homeowners and filed the originals for processing. Grabbing his coat and keys, John nodded toward the door. "Shall we get going?"

Looking toward the front door nervously, Janice looked back at the agent. "Can't... can't I take care of the rest tomorrow? I'd like to get Frank home! Right away!"

Seeing the man obviously in severe distress, John nodded. "OK, if that's what you'd prefer. We usually do this at the new home, but..." Holding out the keys to the house and other locks, John smiled. "Welcome to your new home for a hundred Blue Moons together, Mr. and Mrs. Brookes!"

Snatching the keys away violently, Frank barely missed nicking John's hand with the doubled-over man's longish fingernails that their real estate agent was sure only a moment earlier had been neatly trimmed. "Thanks! Let's get, Janice!" he growled with a slight hiss as he hobbled toward the door.

Escorting the two all the way, John saw them get in their car and waited until Janice drove them away. Turning back inside, he glanced at his watch, turned the sign around on the door to say 'closed', locked it, and headed for his desk to collect his things.

"John!" Barbara Moon caught his attention before he passed her desk. "What was going on there?"

"Those were the Brookes." he explained briefly. "The ones that bought the Foster house! They just signed! Deal's closed!"

Furrowing her brow, she glanced out the door before turning back to face him. "John, you know company policy! Keys are to be turned over, and the gift basket presented, at the new home! They didn't even take the basket!" she snapped, waving a hand at the stack of plastic-wrapped crackers, cheeses, meats, and bottles of moderately priced champagne.

"Mr. Brookes is ill, Barb!" he tried to explain. "They insisted on taking the keys here and not waiting to go out to the house! They didn't even give me a chance to give them their basket!"

Shaking her head, Barbara sighed. "Policy is policy, John! No gift basket at their door, no bonus! It states that clearly in the bonus structure! All company policies must be followed for each sale during the month or all bonuses are forfeit! So either hustle up and get a gift basket over to their house pronto or you aren't getting a check for September!"

His shoulders slumping in resignation, John nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Moon."

Handing him a basket with a smile, Barbara seemed content. "Thank you, John! You're always so cooperative! None of that macho posturing! Off you go then!"

Taking a breath, he shook his head and went out the door after gathering his things. Putting the basket in his passenger seat, John started his car and waited a moment for it to warm up a little. After a minute, he put the vehicle in gear and headed toward the highway out of town.

It was seven thirty when he finally made it to the Foster house, having been caught in traffic. With the sun beyond the horizon and the full moon rising, John was happy to see the Brookes' car parked in the driveway. Good! I don't have to just leave it on the porch! Pulling up behind their car, he killed the motor and grabbed the basket before opening the car door and walking up to the entryway.

Knocking on the door as there was no bell, John rocked on his heels and put a smile on his face. When the door opened though, it was neither Frank nor Janice Brookes who greeted him. Instead what he saw was a woman in her late-thirties, her wild and unkempt hair sticking out every which way like the snakes of Medusa, a crazed expression on her face, and wearing a man's flannel.

"Mine!" she screamed with a voice so shrill it threatened to shatter the glass of his car windshield. Snatching for the basket, it was withdrawn at the last moment by the shocked real estate agent.

"Woah, lady!" John shouted. "Where's the Brookes'? This is for them!"

Infuriated, the wild-eyed women leapt at him, scrabbling for the basket like a wild badger defending its burrow. "Mine!" she screamed again as her long and sharp fingernails dug into his flesh straight through the shirt he wore, snatching the basket away when he recoiled from the pain.

Just as the wild woman made for the interior of the house, basket in hand and cackling like mad, John saw Janice Brookes move into the doorway, just missing catching the crazed lady's arm to stop her.

"Francine!" she shouted. "Stop that! Get back here with that!" Hearing yet another shrill 'Mine!' from the basement steps, she turned back to see who she needed to apologize to. "Oh! Mr. Henderson! Wh... what are you doing here?" she stammered in surprise.

Holding his right hand over the gouges in his left arm, John looked at her, then past her into the blackness beyond, then back to her. "Um... I... I forgot to give you your gift basket, Mrs. Brookes! Who was that lady?"

Thinking quickly, Janice bit her lower lip. "Um... Frank's sister, Francine. Twin sister! She... um... she came to stay with us. She's leaving Wednesday."

Calming down, John realized that he was in the clear as far as his boss was concerned. "Well, I just wanted to make sure you got your basket. Unless you need anything else, I... I'll be seeing you, Mrs. Brookes!" he stammered as he backed away from the door.

Hearing a raucous cry from the basement and the sound of shattering glass, Janice just shook her head and slammed the door, not even noticing the man's injury before racing off to find out what new disaster awaited her.

Making his way back to his car, John examined his wound briefly before determining that it could wait until he got home and Diane could help with antibiotic cream. Pressing the bleeding area against his stomach to keep it from getting all over the car, he returned home driving one-handed.

"John!" Diane cried as she came up the front steps just as he was unlocking the door. "What happened to you! Were you bitten by a dog?"

"No!" he groused as he opened the house and dropped his things at the door, making a beeline to the bathroom. "Crazy lady staying with the Brookes! She clawed my arm up taking their gift basket away from me!"

Following him into the tiny bathroom, Diane clucked her tongue. "Awe! Poor baby! Here, let me see." Examining it briefly, she scowled. "Sweetie? How long ago did this happen?"

With a shrug, John glanced at his watch. "Um... about half an hour ago, maybe? Just about seven thirty. Why?"

Shaking her head, Diane picked up the antibiotic cream. "Funny. It's red and splotchy, and a bit of a scab is forming... like it happened yesterday. You sure this was today?"

Laughing at her suggestion that he could have lost a day on his way home, John winced when she started rubbing the cream on. "Ouch! Yeah! It was today! Yesterday was Sunday! I spent all day with you!"

Finishing applying the cream like the professional she was, she opened up some gauze pads and lay them carefully over the long cuts before wrapping them loosely in an elastic bandage. "Yes, you did. Funny. We should have Doctor Kelly look at this if it's still looking like that tomorrow."

"It's just a scratch!" John insisted, pulling his arm free. "Besides, you missed the bigger news in all the hubbub!"

Pausing a moment, Diane ran the events of her homecoming back in her head until a smile began to creep across her face. "You closed the Foster house?"

"I closed the Foster house!" he beamed. "You get the house in ten days!"

Screaming in delight, Diane completely forgot John's injury and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Watch it, Diane!" he complained as her arm crushed his covered wound. "My arm!"

"Oh!" she sprang back as though he were a rattlesnake. "Sorry, sweetie!" Carefully this time, she wound her arms around his chest and hugged him tightly. "Thank you, sweetie! You're the best man and husband in the world!"

"Remember that when you're nine months pregnant someday and hating me for what I did to you!" he sparred.

Foregoing lovemaking that night as John's arm was still aching, the two lay in bed next to one another falling asleep peacefully.

It would be the last full moon in a while that either of them would have any peace.

Chapter 2 - Unpacking the Baggage

With a heave, John shoved the last empty cardboard box into the trash bin. Satisfied and weary, his usual get-up-and-go had got-up-and-went. Not any weakling, the man had kept in shape and, at only twenty-seven, was usually in better shape than most men a decade younger.

The day he and Diane had finished unpacking the last of their moving boxes however, he just felt flabby, out of sorts, and irritable. Having worked most of the day, snapping at Barbara twice and having to apologize, then coming home to more work, he bit his tongue and chipped in the same as Diane had, ignoring his odd condition.

Coming back in the house, John flopped on the sofa with a crash. Exhausted and glad the day was done, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his body felt strange all over and his arm where the strange woman had scratched him almost four weeks earlier ached like the day it had happened, just as the last light of the sun disappeared over the horizon.

Sitting up slowly, John felt dizzy and his stomach ached almost as bad as his arm. "Diane?" he called out, his voice squeaking half an octave too high as though he were talking in falsetto. "D... Diane!"

Coming from the kitchen where she'd started dinner, it being her night, his wife was mildly irritated at the interruption after such a hard day. "What is it, John! I'm right in the middle of... Ahhh!"

Seeing her stop in front of him with her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide as saucers, John knew there was something terribly wrong with him. "Am... am I habbing a stoke?" he tried to ask, but his lips didn't seem to want to cooperate, having swollen slightly.

Watching in horror, Diane saw her husband's face squish down from the chiseled features she recognized to a rounder and softer proportion. Even as it did so, the hair on his head seemed to grow in time-lapse, going from his normal half inch to over eighteen inches in seconds.

Looking at his hands, John saw them shrink from the size he'd been used to since high school to thin frail twigs, even as his fingernails grew an inch as though to make up for their smaller size. Feeling a pain in his chest, he looked down to see his pecks swelling under his shirt until it burst the top two buttons and exposed the newly grown breasts.

Looking at his wife for any kind of help, it was then that he noticed that his rear seemed rounder and he wasn't feeling something between his legs that he'd grown used to his whole life. "Ahh! Mine!" he screeched, instantly recognizing the sound as the same as he'd heard that night at the Brookes' new home. "No!" he squealed, trying to hold on to his sanity. "Help me!"

At a loss for what to do, Diane could only watch while the transformation completed. When the wedding band fell off her husband's shrunken finger, she fell to her knees and began to sob. "No! John!"

At last done changing, he first noticed that he couldn't feel the pain in his arm anymore, but that was only because the pain in his belly made him forget everything else. Worse than any case of food poisoning he'd ever had, he doubled over and rolled into a ball on the couch. "Diane! Help me! It hurts so bad!"

Finally gathering the shattered remains of her brain back together, his wife stood up and stopped crying. "I... I'm here... um... John. You... you're a... a w... woman!"

"It hurts!" he repeated his plea in his now screechingly high voice. "God, Diane! It hurts a lot!"

"O... OK." she stammered, stepping closer. "Show me where."

Looking up at her as he held his belly, rage and fury overtook him. "In my f-ing stomach, stupid! Where does it look like?" Instantly remorseful of his harsh words, he began to cry like he hadn't since he was eleven. "Oh, Diane! I'm so sorry! I... I don't know what came over me! I... I just got so mad that you'd even had to ask! It... it's my stomach! It aches like someone just kicked it wearing cleats!"

Diane turned clinical and knelt next to him. "Move your hands. Let me look." When he didn't comply, she used her nurse's authoritative voice as she took his arms by the wrists and pried them away. "John Henderson! Move your hands! I can't help if you don't cooperate!"

Hearing her voice and knowing he needed help, John slowly relaxed and let his wife look him over. Wincing when she pressed on his belly, he was relieved when it didn't hurt worse, but actually felt better. "Oh!"

"Does that hurt?" Diane asked calmly.

"Y...yes." he answered in his suddenly screechy voice. "Not as bad when you pressed on it, though."

Satisfied that he was in no immediate medical danger, she began examining him more thoroughly. It was then that she noticed the stain on John's pants. "John? I need to you come with me, OK? Do you think you can walk?"

Nodding in reply, he didn't want to speak and hear the awful voice he had. Getting up slowly the pain increased, but he bore through it and followed his wife's guidance to the bathroom. When she began to strip off his clothes though, he started to panic. "No!" he screeched, gripping them to himself tightly.

"John, I have to examine you!" Diane insisted. "Now, don't panic, but you're bleeding somewhere and I need to find out where, OK?"

Slowly relenting, he nodded and let her strip him down to his underwear. Unable to handle the complex emotions raging through his mind, John closed his eyes and tried to think of anything other than his current predicament.

When she had him down to his last garment, Diane finally realized where the blood was coming from. Swallowing hard, she guided her husband to the bathtub; his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Step into the tub, sweetie." she soothed him calmly. After he complied, she removed his underwear and drew in a sharp breath.

"What!?" he shrieked as he sat in the empty tub to keep from falling down.

"You... you're definitely a woman now, John." she stammered as she helped lower him down to sit in the tub. "And I know why you hurt. You... you're menstruating, sweetie. You're having your first period."

His eyes popping open at that revelation, John looked down his body for the first time and saw the slow trickle of blood seeping from underneath his seated rump. He also saw the C-cup breasts that hung freely from his chest. Slowly, he moved his hands up and cupped the fatty tissue. The aching pain touching them caused made him immediately pull his hands away and suck in a breath through his teeth.

Seeing his reaction, Diane nodded. "Do they hurt a little to touch?" When he nodded, she smiled a little. "That's actually normal, sweetie." Sitting on the toilet next to him, she wondered what to do next. "I... I don't understand what's happening, John! Why is this happening to you?"

Looking up at her concerned face, he had an inkling of an idea. "I... I think it's the Brookes'." his throat squealed. Clearing it, he tried harder to control his speaking. "I... I think Francine Brookes did this to me!"

Hearing his voice sound more normally feminine, Diane almost didn't pay attention to the words he'd said. "What? How?"

"I don't know!" he shrieked again. "I sound like her, though!" Feeling the ache in his belly overwhelm him, he clutched his stomach and moaned.

"Bad cramps?" Diane winced in empathy. Seeing him nod, she slowly reached out and petted his long dark hair to try and sooth him.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped, instantly regretting it as he began to sob. "I... I'm sorry, Diane! I... I don't know what came over me!"

After several minutes, he started to regain his composure and looked up at her again. "So... now what?"

Biting her lip, Diane thought for a moment. "Well, you should start by getting cleaned up a bit." she suggested. "A shower or at least cleaning up your... um... your mess." she put delicately. "After that... um... I'll... I'll think of something!"

Nodding in agreement, John slowly started to get up, the pain in his stomach getting worse when he did and sending him straight back down to sit again. "Oh!" he moaned, unwilling to do anything that made the cramps worse.

Diane struck on an idea. Getting up, she opened the medicine cabinet and took out her bottle of Midol. Grabbing the plastic cup from the side of the sink, she filled it with water and took it and the pills to the tub. "Take this." she ordered simply, handing him two tablets and the cup.

Doing as instructed, John swallowed the pills and washed it down. Handing the cup back, he winced as a cramp overwhelmed him again.

"You're just going to have to put up with it until the pills kick in." Diane chastised him gently. "Every... woman... does." she barely managed to say.

"You hate me!" John croaked. "I'm disgusting!"

"No!" she replied sympathetically. "Of course I don't hate you, John! This isn't your fault! It just... happened!"

Nearly overwhelmed with the desire to snap at her, John barely managed to bite his tongue and say nothing.

An hour later, after a shower and a bit of his self-control re-asserting itself, John opened the curtain to see Diane waiting for him with a towel. Helping him dry off, she began to explain her thinking.

"I don't pretend to know what you're going through, sweetie. I just know we have to deal with it the way things are." she began. "To start with, you can't just ignore it and hope it goes away. You're a woman and you have practical concerns that trump any other consideration." At that, she handed out a pair of her cotton briefs and a sanitary pad.

John reacted viscerally to the suggestion. "No!" he screeched.

"John! You can't just stay in the tub for the rest of your life!" she pointed out. "You have to face it!"

Breaking into a sob, he stared at the briefs and shook in fear. "No! I... I can't, Diane! I promised!"

Taken aback, Diane wasn't expecting this reaction. "What? Promised who? When? What're you talking about, John?"

"Mom!" he sobbed. "I promised her I'd never wear girl things again!"

Stunned, Diane actually took a step back. "When was this? What do you mean again?"

Sitting in the tub, John cried openly. The cramps were manageable, thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, but the emotional trauma was too much to bear. "I... um... I used to try and wear Vicky's clothes when I was little!" he recounted an all but forgotten time of his life.

Furrowing her brow, Diane stepped closer again. "Your sister?" Seeing him nod, she pressed for more. "Why were you wearing Vicky's things, John?"

With an absent shrug, he turned away from her. "I... I used to think I was a girl... when I was five or so. I didn't want to be a boy like my brother Dave. I... I wanted to be a girl like Vicky."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Diane gasped.

"I forgot about it!" he snapped with a shriek that made him wince. "Sorry." he stated more softly. "OK, I didn't so much as forget about it as much as I just ignored it. I mean, I'm a guy!" Looking down at the bulges in the towel on his chest, he sighed. "Well... I used to be one, anyway."

Sighing in sympathy, Diane shook her head. "Alright. We'll deal with this one thing at a time. First is the practical, though. Agreed?" Seeing him nod, she once more held out the underwear and pad.

"Fine!" he snapped, snatching the items away from her. Swallowing hard, he reached down into himself and drew up the inner strength that he'd drawn on the last quarter century to push his feelings aside and become the stoic boy and man he'd been since Kindergarten. "I apologize, honey." he said evenly. "You're just trying to help."

Waiting for him to partially dress, Diane helped teach him how to place the pad and make certain that it was fully seated to stay clean. Handing him her terrycloth robe, she helped him out of the tub and back to the living room. Once seated back on the couch, she returned to the kitchen and put away the dinner she hadn't yet started making when all hell had broken loose.

Sitting next to the morose man, Diane took his tiny hand. "John? We have to talk about what we're going to do now."

"You're dumping me!" he wailed as he pulled away from her. "I'm a woman now and fat and ugly so you're just going to leave me!"

"John!" she snapped. "Stop it! I'm not leaving you, OK? I love you!"

"You're just saying that because you think you have to!"

Controlling her temper, Diane closed her eyes and counted to ten silently. Looking at her husband again, she drew her mouth into a line. "John, I am not leaving you. You are not fat or ugly! In fact, you're quite attractive, if you could be objective about it! I do love you, but I soon won't if you don't start behaving like the... person... I fell in love with!"

Regaining his composure, he sat up and wiped a sleeve across his damp eyes. "S... sorry. I... I don't understand why I'm flying off the handle like this so much! I don't want to, but I can't seem to stop it! Then the next thing I know, words are coming out that I'm actively trying not to say! Why?"

"Hormones." Diane sighed with a weak smile. "Welcome to the wonderful world of being a hormonal woman, John! It takes a long time for us to learn to cope with the overwhelming feelings pushing us around all the time!" she giggled lightly. "I'm not making light of this, sweetie! Honest! It's just... well, I guess every woman has thought a time or two, 'I wish he knew how hard it is to not rip his balls off right now!' when we get those feelings! It gets easier with time. Does knowing that help?"

"A little." he admitted grudgingly. "So what happens with us? I mean..." His voice trailed off as a dozen problems came to mind and he wasn't sure which one to deal with first.

Seeing the fear in his eyes, Diane smiled and put a hand on his knee. "Let's start with the easy one, OK? I'm not going anywhere! I promised to love you and stay with you in sickness or health! If this is some sort of illness or curse or whatever, I'm not bailing out at the first sign of trouble!"

"Thanks!" John sighed. "I... I guess that was my biggest worry!" His brow furrowed when another popped in its place. "Um... what about kids? I mean, if I'm like this from now on..."

"We'll deal with that later." she interrupted. "Right now we have other more immediate concerns. We have the weekend, but on Monday you're supposed to go back to work. We need a plan, sweetie."

"Work!" he threw up his arms. "There goes my whole career! All that work building up good connections gone to waste!"

"Stop thinking so negatively!" Diane scolded him. "You're still you, right? OK, so you can't keep your old connections! You can make new ones! And saleswomen have an advantage over salesmen! We have sex appeal!"

Scoffing, John turned away from her. "I'm not flirting with guys just to get a sale! Besides, in real estate, most of the biggest decision-makers are the women! They decide if a house feels right to them and are willing to buy!"

"Who says you can't use sex appeal on women?" she countered. "I see it all the time! Oh, I don't mean flagrantly, but subtly. Anytime I'm buying a new outfit, the saleslady will make some comment about how beautiful it looks on me! It's not blatant flirting, but it's still there!"

"OK, I see your point." he grumbled. "Still, I want to find a way out of this, not just roll over and accept it! If I can be turned into a woman, I can be turned back into a man!"

"In the mean time, you need something more than a robe to wear."

Looking down at the cream terrycloth covering, he felt the vague sense of longing he'd so long ago suppressed. "I don't think that's a good idea, Diane. What if I go back to normal? You'd never look at me the same way again!"

"Let me worry about that!" she half laughed. "We'll order some take-out tonight, get you dressed, and try and figure out a solution to this. OK?"

Taking her hand, John wanted to cry at the sweet and understanding way his wife was taking all of it. "I love you, Diane! I don't deserve you!"

"No, you don't!" she quipped. "But then, I don't deserve you!" Leaning over close, she hesitated only a moment before she kissed his cheek gently. "After all, you got me my dream come true, let me see if I can return the favor!"

After calling the local pizza place, Diane led John into their bedroom and had him sit on the bed while she opened her side of the closet. Picking and discarding things in her head and without a word, she eventually settled on an idea. Opening the drawer in the huge closet that included a full dresser, she pulled out a set of stretchy sweats in gray. It was the closest thing she had to something gender neutral.

When his wife offered over the outfit that he'd seen her wear a dozen times, his first instinct was to scream at her and run away. Swallowing that feeling and pushing it aside, John took a breath and nodded. "Th... thanks."

Setting it next to him, Diane took a breath before opening her bra drawer. Biting her lower lip, she knew it would be necessary and took the plunge. Grabbing the plainest bra she owned, a white sports bra, she closed the drawer and turned to face her husband. "You... you'll need this." she added.

"Are you serious?" John scoffed, his voice close to cracking into the horrid screech he hated hearing from his own mouth.

"Yes!" Diane insisted. "You have breasts, John! At least a C or maybe a D, by my guess. You'll need something for support and to keep my top from rubbing you raw. You have to, sweetie! Trust me, OK?"

About to snatch it away from her on instinct, he hesitated before taking it graciously. "Alright, honey." he acquiesced softly, for the first time hearing his new voice and not despising it.

Helping him into the support garment, Diane aided in getting it properly in place, eliciting a few gasps and shocked looks from John in the process that only made her smirk in knowing sympathy. "Every time I start, my breasts are super sensitive too, sweetie!" she offered in consolation. "I understand!"

"I'm never gonna complain about you wanting me to leave you alone at this time of the month ever again!" he promised. "How can you stand it? I wanna crawl out of my own skin!"

"You get used to it." she stated simply as he helped him on with the top that was slightly baggy on her, but fit more nicely on her husband. Having him stand, she helped him into the sweatpants and took a moment to look him over. "You could use a styling in your hair, but other than that, you look... um... nice, John!"

Rolling his eyes, he shook his head. "Gee... thanks!" he squealed, biting back his tongue before taking a breath and looking at his wife sadly. "Sorry! It... it just keeps coming out!"

"I get it!" she laughed, leading the two of them back out to the living room. "One other thing. I... I can't keep calling you John looking like that! Do... or I guess... did you ever have a girl's name? When you were young, I mean."

Shyly glancing away, John nodded. "Um... Joan. Joan Anne."

"...instead of John Abel." she nodded. "OK, Joan. Where did you get it?"

"Vicky gave it to me." he admitted as he sat gingerly on the couch again. "She was seven and thought I needed a girl's name when we'd play dolls and things."

"You played dolls with Vicky?" Diane asked rhetorically. "Um... how seriously did you think you were a girl, sweetie?"

"It was pretty serious to me at the time." he confessed. "After... um... Mom straightened me out though, I just sorta pushed those feelings away. This was back in nineteen ninety or so. Back then no one ever heard of things like 'transgender' or anything... not in this neck of the woods, for sure!"

About to ask more, Diane was interrupted by a knock at the door. "That'll be the pizza." she commented as she grabbed her purse and went to get their food. Opening the door, she smiled when she recognized the young man. "Hi, Dennis!"

Smiling in return, the eighteen-year-old handed her the stack of food she'd ordered. "Hiya, Mrs. H!" Looking over her shoulder, he spotted the strange woman sitting on the couch. "Where's Mr. H? Out while you have company over?"

Glancing back toward her husband who looked stricken, she turned back to him and handed him the cash. "Um... yes. John's... out... now. Keep the change, Dennis!"

With a nod and a smile he backed away from the door, taking one last glance at the woman behind her. "Have a good evening, Mrs. H! Same for your lady-friend!"

Closing the door, she took their food to the kitchen, got out paper plates, and served it up before bringing two plates into the living room. "Sorry, Joan! I didn't know he'd see you from the door!"

"It's fine, I guess." he muttered. "Cute turn of phrase, though! 'He's out now'? I guess I am as far as you're concerned!" he giggled, surprising himself and suddenly covering his mouth with a shocked expression.

Looking at him a moment, Diane couldn't help it as she cracked a smile and giggled back, which made him join in after a moment. Soon the two were cackling like a couple of happy hens before starting to stuff their faces with pepperoni and cheese.

When at last they were fed and calmer, the two sat together and hashed out a vague plan for the weekend.

"You're going to need your own clothes, Joan." Diane pointed out as she held her husband when he cradled his back against her front. "My bra barely fits you, and other than those sweats, nothing else I have will fit you. You're a little... fuller... than I am."

"You mean fat." he squawked, rubbing the dull ache in his belly.

"I mean more curvy, sweetheart!" she corrected him. "Your figure is actually very nice! I'm a little jealous, to be honest! Dennis was practically ignoring me to look over my shoulder at you!"

"Blech!" John stuck his tongue out. "Men are so crude!" Realizing what he was saying, he stiffened. "Um... I mean... other men... besides me."

Petting his hair, Diane smiled and shook her head. "Yes, sweetie. Other men."

After getting a working plan for the next day, which included measuring Joan for 'her' own clothes, the two headed for their bedroom. When Diane started to change out of her clothes, John sat on the bed nervously.

"Um... honey? Can't I just sleep in these? I mean... they're sweats, they're comfortable, and... um..."

"Not too feminine?" his wife finished for him. Seeing him nod shyly, she shook her head. "And what do you wear tomorrow? Like I said before, those are the only things in the house that'll fit you right now. Well... that and my pink sweats."

"What about my clothes?" he grasped. "I mean, I was wearing some of my clothes when this happened! It can't be that much of a difference in size!"

"Size, yes. Shape, no." Diane explained as she pulled out a nightgown to wear. "You popped the buttons on your shirt, sweetie. You may be able to wear your old pants, but even they were straining against those hips you have now!"

Looking down at his rump, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Is my butt too big?"

With a stunned look, Diane stopped dressing for bed and just stared at him a moment. "Wow! I never thought I'd be caught on the other side of that trapped question!"

Blushing and turning away as she resumed getting ready, John shrugged. "I don't even know why I care! I just want to get started on figuring a way out of this mess!" Feeling a pang in his tummy, he groaned a little.

"Cramps getting worse?" she asked. Checking the time, she went into the bathroom and got out two more pills and some water. Returning with it, she handed them over. "Here. This should help you get through the night."

Taking them and washing them down, John tried to relax. "Thanks, honey. You've been so understanding through all this mess!"

Turning around after retrieving something from her dresser, Diane pointed to the bathroom. "Now it's your turn to be understanding. You need to change your pad, get clean, and get dressed for bed. We need those clothes for tomorrow." At that she handed him her least feminine nightgown.

Taking the article, he nodded and went to the bathroom to do as instructed. Coming out after brushing his teeth and getting dressed, he stood nervously by the bathroom door. "H... how do I look, honey?"

Seeing him wearing the cream satin nightshirt that he'd bought her a year earlier but was always just a tad roomy on her, Diane felt a small twinge of arousal. Knowing that this woman was hers, her mind couldn't help but flash through the many times they'd made love together, but after a moment shook herself back into clear thinking.

"You... um... you look very nice, sweetie! Very... um... lovely."

Blushing again, John made his way to his side of their shared bed. "You sure it's OK for me to sleep next to you still? I mean, I wouldn't want to weird you out or anything."

"You're my... spouse." she stopped herself from saying 'husband'. "I love you and you've been through quite enough for one night! I won't have you feeling rejected on top of all that! Come to bed, sweetheart! Please?"

Climbing in as asked, John scooted into his usual position, but found it too uncomfortable to sleep on his left side as he normally did. Rolling over so that his back was to Diane, he sighed as he tried to just relax. All that flew out the window when he felt his wife roll over and spoon against his back.

"Goodnight, Joan." she sighed as she relaxed and held him gently.

"Goodnight, honey." he murmured as his body reacted to her touch, making sleep impossible for the next several hours.