Don is a bit of a geek. But his intelligence was matched by his kind heart, and his flat mate and friend Steve appreciates his help in his university course work.

Don is a little confused as to why Steve and two other friends want him to join them of a motor cycle tour of France in the summer holidays, but he is pleased to be asked, and goes along. On their first stop, a cool group is playing at a night club, but it is a couples only evening, and Don is persuaded to become Donna for one evening, just so the four friends can see the show.

But no one expected to find Donna still there on the following morning.

In fact, Don never returned. And Donna was anything but a Geek!

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Viewing Note: This story should be viewed with the Edwardian Script ITC font installed on your Windows platform in the c:/Windows/Fonts directory. Microsoft Word installs this font automatically.

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Tanya has a new website where she will display her latest works first and then to BigCloset TopShelf a few weeks later is here at Tanya Allan's Tales .
Tanya's Book Shop where she is selling her works in book form is at http://tanyaallan.authorshaunt.com/shop.php . Please Visit!

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The Legal Stuff: It's What I Want  © 2009 Tanya Allan
 
This work is the property of the author, and the author retains full copyright, in relation to printed material, whether on paper or electronically. Any adaptation of the whole or part of the material for broadcast by radio, TV, or for stage plays or film, is the right of the author unless negotiated through legal contract. Permission is granted for it to be copied and read by individuals, and for no other purpose. Any commercial use by anyone other than the author is strictly prohibited, and may only be posted to free sites with the express permission of the author.
 
This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism, and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.
 
The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.
 
This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.
 
 
Chapter 2
 
 
I woke early, about seven thirty. I slipped on the clothes I had worn the previous night and went to the restrooms. I went into the Ladies, and swore never to go to a Gents again. I went to the loo, where I thought about what I had done. The enormity of it all hit me and I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame. I saw my father’s sneering face staring at me, with disgust oozing from every pore.

I felt dirty, as if I had broken all the rules in the book.

I sat on the loo and cried. After some careful thought, I stopped crying and started to think about me instead of everyone else. I started to smile, as I realised that it had made me feel good. I actually felt good about being me, albeit a false female me, but still me. I pulled myself together and showered, cleaning myself as much as I could. When I touched my hated genitalia, I discovered, with a shock, that it had virtually shrunk out of sight. I was left with a kind of flap of tubular skin with nothing much inside. I did find it, but it was tiny, even smaller than it had been last night. To any casual observer, my genitalia appeared female; more importantly - I appeared female!

My scrotum had tightened so it was right up inside my crotch, and I could just about feel two very small, soft spheres. They too had shrunk considerably. The hot water coursed down my chest, and the silicone breasts really felt at home. I felt a little tender underneath and put it down to the unfamiliar nature of wearing a bra for the first time.

I slipped on a clean pair of panties, noticing that I did not need any special arrangements to make myself look female, it just happened. I put on the bra, which felt very tight today, I loosened it off, but it still felt tight. I shrugged, slipping on a tee shirt and a skirt. I then dried my hair under the dryer, and put on my make up.

The girl was back with a vengeance, and I wanted her to stay. I walked back to the tent, buying some eggs, milk, bread and bacon on the way. The young French guy in the shop flirted with me outrageously, which I loved. It was great to actually use French for real, so I just relaxed and got on with it. I made mistakes, but I found as long as I tried, everyone was very forgiving and helpful.

I set up the two-ring Calorgaz stove, and made a nice cooked breakfast for everyone, with hot coffee.

Steve was the first to rise, and he took one look at me and grinned sheepishly.

“Hi gorgeous,” I said.

“Hey Donna. Did what I think happened, happen?”

“Uhuh,” I said.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, I started it, I did what I did, you just went along with me, so none of this apology shit. Okay?” I said, quite heatedly.

“Okay,” he said, raising both hands in surrender.

“Besides, didn’t you like it?” I asked.

“Yeah, it was great, but…”

I just looked at him. I knew the inner turmoil he was going through, and as he looked at me, I knew he was looking to see any evidence of me being male. Our inner prejudices were hard to live with.

“Well, what do you see?” I asked, and his eyes widened slightly as he realised I knew what he was thinking.

“I see Donna,” he said.

“Good, ‘coz that’s who I am. Go take a shower. Your breakfast will be ready when you get back,” I ordered.

“Yes Ma’am,” he grinned, and kissed my neck.

I went weak at the knees, but pushed him away.

“And shave. Your face is like sandpaper,” I said to his departing back. That was another thing; I was still smooth, no facial hair growth at all. This was really weird!

Jenny was next to rise, she took one look at me, and smiled.

“Still here then, Donna?” she said.

“Yup, here for good,” I said with a grin.

“You look really happy,” she admitted.

“Feel even better,” I said.

“How’s Steve?” she asked.

“He’s fine, considering,” I said with a smile.

“Oh shit, you didn’t?”

“Didn’t what Jenny?” I asked, but my smile said it all.

“You did. Oh my God! I’m sorry, I never meant th…”

“Hey,” I butted in, “enough, I’m a big girl now, let me make my own decisions. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, but reluctantly.

“Listen Jenny, on a serious note. I need to speak to you about something,” I said.

“Okay, what?”

I explained about my shrinking bits and the tightness on my chest, and she didn’t have a clue. I turned everything down, and we went into our side of the tent and she took a look for herself.

“Bloody hell!” she said.

“I’m going to ban those two words,” I said, and she laughed uneasily.

“Well?” I asked.

“Shit, I don’t know. If I didn’t know better I’d say you are changing sex.”

“That can’t happen, Jenny. Can it?”

“Shit, I don’t know, I’m doing bloody English and Drama, not medicine, for Pete’s sake.”

We stared at my diminishing willy for a while, and I had to admit that it looked just like I was changing sex.

“I mean, look at your shape, Donna. Your waist is tiny, your hips are bigger, you have gorgeous legs, and no Adam’s apple at all. You look female, even if you don’t have tits.”

I explained about the discomfort I felt on my chest.

We looked at my chest, and she probed under the silicones for a moment.

“I think I know why you are tight,” she said.

“Why?”

“You are growing your own boobs.”

“Get away!”

“Seriously, you are bigger, I reckon in a week you won’t need these,” she said semi joking.

We looked at my chest, and I felt very odd indeed.

“Did you really go down on him?” she asked.

“Might have,” I said. “And, do you know what? It was bloody wonderful,” I said.

“Oh Donna.”

“Don’t - oh Donna me! I have suddenly found what it is like to be able to please a man, selflessly and completely. I wish I had the right equipment, but it was still brilliant.”

I dressed again and we went back out. Mark was getting up, then he and Jenny went to the washrooms. Steve came back and I kissed him. He was smooth and clean. I wanted to have him again then and there. Instead, I gave him breakfast and a cup of hot coffee.

We spent several days at that site. Steve and Mark decided they wanted to try surfing, so I bought a one piece black swimsuit in the shop by the beach and we spent ages just playing amongst the surf. I was so utterly convincing as a girl, that even I almost forgot what I really was. The café by the beach kept us in beer and baguettes. It was a lovely life.

Each night, Steve and I cuddled and explored each other as our guilt and shame diminished, as did our inhibitions. I didn’t want him touching me down there, so kept my knickers on all the time. I admit, I was in denial about the truth, but I found it easier when I made myself believe I was a girl. I came to want him inside me more than anything else, and every night I took him in my mouth until he came. As I got better at it, and worked out to keep him hanging, holding off from climax, it was better fun than I had expected. I found myself heady with lust for him.

On the sixth morning, I felt slightly nauseous. Steve got Jenny, and she came into where I was in my sleeping bag.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I feel odd, Jen.”

“In what way?”

I shrugged.

“Tummy.”

She lifted my tee shirt, and probed my tummy. It was a little tender and tight.

“It could be your appendix.”

I shook my head.

“Nah, I had that out when I was twelve.”

“You may have damaged something if you are having anal sex,” she said.

I shook my head.

“No, it won’t be that, as I haven’t let him do it. I admit I’m very tempted, but I haven’t given in yet. Besides, this is too high.”

She gently probed around my genitals, and then had a look.

“Donna, have you looked down there recently?”

“I’ve felt them, but haven’t looked since we did a few days ago, why?”

“I’m worried, this is so weird.”

“Why?”

“Shit, Donna, you’ve an opening now.”

“A what?”

“An opening. A vagina. You have what I’ve got.”

“You mean I’m thinking about letting him screw my ass, when he could use something else?” I said sarcastically.

She looked at me, amazed, but saw I wasn’t taking her seriously.

“Do you realise what this means?”

“Yeah, I won’t get such a sore ass,” I said, going along with the joke.

“Donna, I’m not fucking about! Really, you’ve changed sex, all by yourself.”

“You are joking, tell me this is a joke?” I said, shock creeping in.

“No Donna, this is no joke. Your tummy pain, is it like cramps?”

“I don’t know, perhaps.”

“Show me exactly where.”

I placed my fingers on either side of my tummy button about four or five inches apart.

“Donna, I think I know what is happening. You're ovulating. You are bloody ovulating, or at least forming ovaries.”

I probed with my fingers, and found that the tube of skin that had been my penis had developed into a labia and I had what felt like a vagina. What had once been my penis was now a small button of a clitoris. Mind you, I was hardly an expert on female genitalia, so I was guided by Jenny, as the only resident expert. My testicles had gone completely. That’s if they were ever there at all. I never seemed to have what I saw others had, so maybe, I was one of those one in five thousand people born inter-sexed.

I stared at her, tears running down my cheeks, as I just grinned like an idiot.

“Jenny, are you sure what I’ve got is the real thing?” I asked.

Stripping off her won clothes, she bared herself for me to see her equipment.

We sat opposite each other, and with the help of some hand mirrors we both agreed that I was now the proud owner of a perfectly normal looking set of female genitalia. I was perhaps a little tighter, and with a grin she said she understood why that should be.

“Let’s look at your boobs. If you’ve developed down there, it stands to reason that you are probably doing the same up top!”

She took my tee shirt off, and using some adhesive remover, she removed the silicone breast forms.

There protruding from my chest were two small, but perfectly formed breasts, only smaller than those now in Jenny’s hands. No wonder everything felt really tight and uncomfortable. Instead of being a generous artificial C cup, I was now a budding natural B. The nipples were already large and were sensitive to the touch.

“Bloody hell!” I said.

“Fuck me!” she said.

“Sorry, a week ago I might have, but I can’t now.” I said, and she looked blank at me, and then it sank in. She grinned and shook her head.

“Donna, how the fuck are we going to explain this?”

“Why should we? Life goes on. Now I know I am not dying, let’s move south.”

“Are you sure, perhaps we should get you to a doctor?”

“Do me a favour. No, we go on. Besides the nausea has all but gone.”

Steve popped his head round the tent flap.

“Hey guys, all okay?” he asked. He saw my breasts, and paled.

“Bloody hell!” he said.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Jenny asked me.

“Yeah, go and pack, I’ll be fine.”

She left and Steve came in and lay beside me, looking at my chest.

“Where did they come from?” he asked inanely. I had to laugh.

“I’ve grown them for you,” I said.

He looked at me.

“How?”

“My love for you has changed me into a real girl,” I teased.

He looked at the breasts again.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

I pulled the sleeping bag down and showed him my crotch.

“Fucking hell!” he said.

“So, you won’t be getting my bum, thankfully,” I said.

“You would have let me?”

“I don’t know, Steve. I wanted you inside me so much; I can’t explain it. I think I understand how and why people do it. I think I love you, and so I’d have been willing to do anything to give you pleasure.”

“Even that?”

“Even that. Our social prejudices weren’t going to be strong forever. I’m just pleased that whatever triggered this means that’s not an option, unless we find we actually try it and like it!”

“Donna, this can’t happen, I mean, it just is impossible.”

“It has happened, and by the way, Jenny thinks I’m ovulating, so you go out and buy some condoms. I do not intend having your baby yet.”

He stared blankly at me, his mouth opening, but no sound emitting.

“Steve, get it through your head, I’m a girl now. A real girl, not just a screwed up bloke who desperately wanted to believe he was a girl. Therefore, I have girl’s bits and if you screw me, I could get pregnant. Okay?”

“I still don’t understand how,” he said.

“Do you care how, really?”

He shook his head.

“If you’re gay and prefer boys, now is the time to tell me.”

“I’m not gay, I promise.”

“Sure?”

He nodded. “This is too weird, I mean, this just can’t happen!”

I shrugged. “Well it has, do you want me to change back?”

“No way!”

“Neither do I, but help pack, I need a shower,” I said, and got up and went to the washroom.

I stepped into the shower, looking down at my body. Words cannot describe the feelings I had at that moment. I felt between my legs, and could find no fault with my new equipment. My smallish breasts with large and beautiful nipples were simply the most wonderful things, and I felt sensationally and properly alive for the first time in my life. The few days of pretence had been fun, but it had been like a voyage of discovery. On the scheme of things, that is all it had been, playacting.

This was for real, and I found a silly grin etched on my face.

I stood in the ladies, with my breasts exposed, applying on my make up. I knew who and what I was, and was damn proud of it. I slung on a tee shirt, without a bra, and got a thrill from the sensation of the material against my nipples. I wore a very short skirt, and walked back to the tent in bare feet.

I packed away my stuff, while Steve kept looking at me and grinning. The boys took the tent down, rolled it up and packed it away. Jenny and I put on our leathers, my trousers were ever so tight on the bum now, so I had to admit to having seriously changed shape in just a week. I lay on the ground but still couldn’t get them done up. The waist was fine, but my hips were too wide.

“Fuck it!” I said, and slung them into my bag. I took out a pair of dark tights and a black mini skirt. I then put them on, with some high-heeled boots. With my leather jacket, I looked very hot.

Steve stared at me. “Shit Donna, you’re never wearing that?”

“I can’t get my leathers on, so yes, any objections?”

“On a safety front, yes, but as far as I’m concerned - none at all. Except, I just want to screw you.”

“You’ll have to wait, so don’t have an accident,” I said, grinning at him.

“Oh come on Donna, you can’t wear that,” Jenny said.

“Not you too, why not?”

“Because I can’t match that.”

“Course you can.”

She grinned, taking off her leathers, and found an equally short skirt and sexy boots.

The guys started the bikes, so we swung our legs over the pillion saddles and made ourselves comfortable. We drove out of the campsite to the wolf whistles of the few men watching. I felt wonderful, smiling at Jenny as we rode down the highway side by side.

I found the vibrations of the bike and being close to Steve very erotic, so I became turned on. I rubbed myself against him, so as the morning went on, I was getting more and more randy. My mind was in a strange whirl. I couldn’t get my head around what had happened, and I kept laughing for no other reason than I was incredibly glad to be alive and a girl.

I slid my hand down the front of my knickers, and I felt very damp. I hugged Steve, sliding my hand down to his crotch and started rubbing him.

He turned his head.

“Don’t, Donna, not while I’m riding!” he shouted.

I was like a bitch in heat, as I kept trying to imagine what it was going to be like with him inside me. It was a strange experience, going from a boy who hardly thought about sex, and who felt guilty and confused as he realised that all his contemporaries seemed to think about it all the time. To a girl who was seriously contemplating losing her virginity the same day as receiving the finest gift she could ever have been given.

We pulled over at a lay-by in a picturesque forest area. There was a pile of logs and a mossy bank leading down to a stream, which meandered gently through the woods. Sunlight streamed through the trees, but I had one thing on my mind.

We took off our leather jackets and drank some water from the bottles in our panniers. It was nice lying on the moss, so I took off my tights, as I was overheating. My kickers were so wet. I stuffed them in a pocket, and did the same with my tights.

Steve was lying next to me, on his side, with his head propped on his elbow.

“Donna, were you ever a bloke?”

I smiled and shook my head.

“I don’t think so, not a proper one. I think I was one of those people that had extra skin or something. All I do know is I am now who I want to be, and I want you so much!”

He reached out and pulled me gently towards him. We kissed, and I felt a rising passion well up inside my whole being.

“Donna, I so want you, but I’m afraid.”

“What of? You want me, I want you, we’re both adults and I can’t think of any reason why we shouldn’t!”

Smiling, he stroked my face with his hand.

“I love you, Donna. I think I always have.”

“Always?”

“Since I first saw you, anyway. That’s what has made it all so hard.”

“Shh, just show me!” I said, and opened my legs so he could see I wasn’t wearing any knickers.

He looked down and then met my eyes.

“Are you sure?”

I simply nodded, reaching for his belt and a condom.

The experience will be something that I will never forget. He wasn’t long, but neither was I. He was annoyingly gentle and caring, seemingly afraid that he was going to split me in half or something. I lay back, guiding him into me. I was more than ready, so he slid into my very moist little hole with no effort at all. The sensations around my vagina were something else. As his pubic area touched my engorged clitty, I was sent up to new heights and stayed there shuddering with pleasure. There was a slight obstruction, but he thrust and I had a moment of pain, but then it was gone. I wasn’t a virgin anymore!

I had nothing to compare these feelings with, but I knew now what an orgasm was, and boy, did I?

To be completely filled, impaled on his manhood, and to gaze into his eyes as he fucked me, heightened my pleasure. I saw such love, or was it lust, in his eyes, so I knew that this man was mine for the asking, so I took him. To feel his weight on top of me, as I wrapped my limbs around him and rocked in rhythm with him, we became as one. It was almost a spiritual experience.

When he finally came, I felt an urge to rip off the condom and allow his seed to enter my womb, and it was a very animalistic and natural feeling.

As he withdrew from me, I kissed him and snuggled into his embrace. I glanced over to see Jenny and Mike finishing as well. Jenny met my eyes and smiled.

“How was it?” she asked.

I simply smiled and she nodded.

“That good?”

I nodded, turning and looking into my lover’s eyes.

“Thanks, that was amazing,” I said, kissing him.

His gentle smile said it all.

“Worth the wait?” I asked.

He nodded and stroked my breast.

I felt a tingle of excitement, knowing that sex was definitely something I was going to enjoy.

We had a lazy hour, just being close, and eventually we had some baguette and cheese, a drink and some apples for lunch, and took off again.

My knickers and tights were still in my pocket when I swung my leg over the saddle, so Steve knew that I had fresh air between me and the bike. My mini skirt hid nothing, so it was almost too much for him to bear.

We drove on. I just hugged my man, and actually almost managed to doze off.

We found a campsite near Cap Ferret, the mussel capital of France. As we rode in, a large group of middle-class English people observed us with some trepidation. They were there with their shiny Volvos and BMWs with the nice clean tents with three bedrooms, and suddenly they were faced with leather clad, mini-skirted bikers, who just wanted to fornicate the day away.

We pitched as far away from them as we could. As soon as the tent was up, we went inside, and Steve was up me. I couldn’t help it, as the bike’s vibrations just turned me on so much, so I just had to have him as soon as we stopped.

We did away with the central dividing wall, so when we fucked, we all fucked. Although the guys wouldn’t do anything with each other, which I teased Steve about, Jenny and I held nothing back. It was fun. I enjoyed kissing her and, considering I had never kissed anyone before, the whole experience was fantastic. Being in France, I took every opportunity to show my new tits off, by walking around topless whenever I could. I bought the most miniscule thong bikini, with so little material in it, as made no difference! The top covered my nipples, just, while the bottom almost covered my pubic hair, which I later shaved off, as Steve liked it that way.

We partied at a local folk singers bar. One evening, Steve persuaded me to take my guitar along. I was reluctant, as I had yet to even open the case. I was finding sex far more exciting.

We sat at a table, outside in the warm summer air, listening to some indifferent French couple warble their way through some unidentifiable number on the small outdoor stage.

“Go on Donna, give us a tune,” Mark said, he was slightly pissed.

I think the rest of the audience had had enough of the couple, as I was suddenly encouraged to give it a bash. The couple stopped and received polite applause, and went to have a drink.

Now the Don whom I had been would have run a mile, but Donna was totally different. I took out my guitar, tuned it up by ear, and strummed a few chords. The Steve told me to go onto the stage. The compere, I think he was the landlord, waved me up.

“Comment tu t’appelles?” he asked.

“Donna. Je suis anglaise.”

“Ah, bon, what, er, are you going to sing for us ?” he asked in heavily accented English.

So I told him that I had composed three songs and written the lyrics, so tonight would be my debut performance.

He went to the microphone, introducing me as — “Donna, from England.”

I had never sung in front of others, ever. Yet, strangely, I was in my element. Feeling invincible and a little nervous, I smiled at the sea of faces and started strumming. I closed my eyes and started to sing.

The voice came from an angel, as it was not the voice I knew, so as I gained confidence, I built volume and depth.

The first song was called Left Behind, and reflected my feelings as someone who was always ignored by others. I had written it about a year ago, as it was how I used to feel, so it was rather melancholy.

The next song was called, If you go, inspired by an event in my past when a good friend moved away, and I missed him dreadfully. The last song I had written over the last few days, and was entitled, I’ve got what I want, and I’m keeping it. Spoke for itself really. I had thought of the lyrics while on the pillion, whilst holding the man I had come to adore.

The last song was totally different, being raunchy and up beat. I got everyone clapping and singing the chorus. The applause at the end was amazing.

The applause kept going, and shouts of “Encore.” rang out. So I played Stand by your man, staring at Steve throughout, as I sang.

Once again, the applause was wonderful, and I was aglow. I felt totally brilliant, as I bowed to the one hundred or so in the audience. I went back to the table, to find Steve looking at me with a really soppy expression on his face.

“Bloody hell!” he said, and we four convulsed into laughter.

The landlord came over, and pulled up a chair.

“Zat was very good, chéri. How you like to play every night? I pay you,” he said.

I was very pleased and flattered, but we were moving on tomorrow, so I told him so.

“You have a good voice — very strong. You look good too. I see you famous one day, and remember, you start ’ere,” he said, smiling. He made me sign a menu card, which he pinned behind his bar. It was weird signing my name as Donna Armitage.

I thanked him and he gave us a complimentary bottle of champagne. We were all slightly pissed as we made our way back to the campsite.

We stripped off and cuddled up in the tent. I was held very close by Steve’s large arm.

“I never knew you could sing like that,” he said.

“Neither did I,” I admitted, giggling.

Jenny and Mark were snogging, and I could see that they would be fucking any minute. Steve and I watched, becoming aroused and very soon we were all at it. It was very erotic as I lay on my back. I looked across and saw Jenny looking at me, as we were both being fucked by our men. I smiled at her and she smiled back. We had all become very close on this holiday.
 

*          *          *
 
The next morning we packed up and rode out, much to the delight of some of the resident English families, who thought we would corrupt their children.

We rode south, spending a couple of nights at Biarritz, before heading east along the foothills of the Pyrenees. It was cooler in the hills, and I managed to buy a new pair of girl’s leather trousers for the bike. I also managed to acquire some really sexy black leather boots with three inch heels. The leathers did manage to curtail some of the vibrations, so I was marginally less randy when I got off the bike.

We settled into a lovely routine, of riding for a couple of hours, then having lunch at a café, and then riding for another couple of hours in the afternoon. Once we got to four o’clock, we started looking for somewhere to pitch the tent, and a few nights we were in a forest or a farmer’s field.

The scenery was spectacular, and I was so happy, I never wanted the holiday to end. Steve was so attentive and loving, I had a hard time remembering who I used to be.

One evening we were actually staying at a hostel in the mountains. We were wearing clean clothes, having showered and cleaned ourselves properly. My hair was washed and flowing free, and I was wearing a dress for the first time, as I really liked short skirts and low cut tops.

We were sitting at a café drinking our usual pre-dinner beer, and Steve looked at me.

“What the hell happens when we get home?” he asked.

I had been putting off that question, trying not to think about the future. I had to face my parents, the university and all kinds of problems. I didn’t want to think about them now.

I shrugged.

“Seriously, Donna. There is no going back to who you were, even if you wanted to.”

“Which I don’t!” I said, quite emphatically.

He grinned.

“That makes two of us.”

“So?”

“Are you going to pretend to be a boy for the last year?” he asked, and Jenny laughed.

“Come on Steve, how can she ever pass as a boy. You even thought she was a girl when she was a boy, and now, there is no way she could ever pass for a boy.”

“Thanks Jen,” I said.

“So, what do we do, hide you away?” Mark asked.

“No way. My first visit must be to my family doctor. He knows me, so will be able to say that there must have been a mistake or a gender condition. That way I can get a new birth certificate. Then I can slowly get legal as a girl. Beside that, I need to go on the pill,” I said, and Steve went red.

“What about your folks?” asked Mark.

“What about them?”

“Will they have a fit?”

“My mum won’t, at least I don’t think she will. But my dad will probably have a heart attack,” I said.

“We shouldn’t have done this to you,” Jenny said.

“Don’t be daft. You didn’t do anything, as soon as I became me, things happened. And I am ever so grateful, as I would never go back to how I was before.”

Steve just looked at me, and Mark took another photo of us all.

“This film has got to be worth a fortune, as it charts the transformation of Donna Armitage, from male nonentity to singing female superstar,” he said.

“Shut up, Mark,” said Jenny, and I just smiled.

The guys went off to get some more beers and Jenny moved closer to me.

“Donna?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it very different?”

“What, being a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, you wouldn’t believe it. But I don’t think I was ever a boy, not completely. I mean, I’d never had sex, so I can’t compare that. I hadn’t even wanked or had a male orgasm. No the real difference is in me, the person.

“You know I was a quiet and shy guy, and just minded my own business. I just went through life, making no waves, yet always seeking for something that wasn’t there. Well, I feel totally different now. It’s as if I’ve been given an injection that improves my confidence and fills out my personality. Jen, I can laugh at myself now, I can cry, I feel so complete. It’s hard to explain, but I’ve found that something, and it’s wonderful.”

“What was it like making love to Steve, you know, before you were a real girl?” she asked.

I smiled.

“I only ever had oral. I was tempted to allow him to screw me, but I suppose, my prejudices held me back. It still seems dirty and wrong, somehow. I know that loads of people do it, but I just couldn’t. I mean, oral is disgusting enough if you think about it. I just couldn’t let him up my bum! It’s so weird, but I just wanted to please him, and I had this irresistible urge for him to be inside me, and there was only one way for that to happen. I’d never had a gay desire in my life, yet I really wanted him to fuck me. But, I changed, so I never had to.

“Now I don’t have to, I’m tempted to try it, just to see what it’s like. But the proper way is so utterly wonderful, I guess I’ll have to be really pissed or highly turned on before even considering it.”

“I wonder what it’s like,” Jenny said.

“You want to try it, don’t you?” I asked, and she smiled.

“Perhaps. I’m not sure, but I’ve tried to imagine what it would be like up my bum.”

“I have too, obviously. I think Steve does as well. In a way I think he was a little in love with Don, and that way he could fuck Don at the same time as Donna.”

“You mean Steve is gay?” Jenny asked, shocked.

“He says not. He told me he fancied me before he knew I was a boy, but I reckon he never stopped fancying me, even after he found out. I mean, we had absolutely nothing in common, and I never could work out how or why we should be friends, let alone share a house together. The only answer is he wanted me close, because he fancied me.”

“Shit!”

“Anyway, back to anal sex. Mark is as big as Steve, so I reckon we need plenty of lube. We should get worked up first, and go to the loo before and empty. I think we should take it very slow, and try to relax as we get penetrated, it should help if they stimulate our clitties at the same time, as it relaxes the muscles, it does mine anyway.”

“Do you want to know a secret?” she asked.

“What?”

“I’d never kissed a girl before you.”

“So?”

“I enjoyed it, and then when you licked me, shit. I thought I would never stop coming.”

“I liked it too, so?”

“Does that mean we are lesbians?”

“No, it means we like sex and beautiful people. You were so sexy when Mark was fucking you, and I was so turned on, I just wanted to join in. You forget, my first sexual experience was with Steve, and we were both technically male. So for me the gender boundaries are all a bit vague. Jenny, you’re a gorgeous girl, and if I were going to go for a girl, it would be you. But I like Steve too much, and I know you like Mark, neither of us will be distracted from them, so where is the harm in a little fun?”

She laughed, and the guys returned, so our conversation had to cease.

“Steve’s Dad called him,” Mark said, as they sat down.

“Really, is he worrying about you?” I asked.

“No, he’s in down in the south of France, he’s in Monaco shooting a movie. He wants us to meet up; he says he will pay for us to stay a couple of nights in a hotel.”

“Cool!” said Jenny.

“What’s the movie?” Mark asked.

“I dunno, some spy thriller with an American cast. I think Matt Damon is in it.”

“He’s hunky,” I said, but Steve looked a little hurt.

“Not as hunky as you,” I added, and he grinned at me.

We reached Monaco early in the following evening, having ridden along the south coast to get there. The promise of a fancy hotel spurred us past some first class campsites near Nice.

Steve’s Dad told us that he had booked us two rooms at the Hotel Splendide. I questioned him about whom he had told his father was on the trip.

“I simply told him that Mark and I had our girl friends with us. He asked me if we were sleeping together, and I said we didn’t sleep much,” he said and grinned.

“Oh, does he know we are sharing a house?”

“I said we were all house mates, and that you and I are a recent thing.”

I smiled.

I had been to Monaco before, but still the sight of the place was spectacular as we rode down the Grand Corniche. We pulled up on the bikes outside the hotel, and the doorman’s face was a joy to behold, as four black leather clad individuals, lugging rucksacks entered the front door.

Steve went to the desk, where a snooty-faced girl reluctantly accepted that there were two rooms reserved for us.

We were shown to our rooms by a bellhop who had decided that there was unlikely to be a tip on this job, but was surprised when Steve gave him a twenty Euro note.

The room was fantastic, with a huge double bed. There was a balcony overlooking the marina, which must have cost his father a fortune. There was the most luxurious bathroom, with gold taps and everything. I started running the bath almost before the bellhop closed the door. I stripped off and was in the bath in no time. Steve joined me, so we got up to all sorts of fun in the foam.

I dried myself off, while Steve just lay in the bath. I had exhausted him, again. I then unpacked my rucksack, hanging up my three slightly crumpled dresses and skirts. I had thrown anything of Don’s away on my first day as Donna, so I had one pair of trousers to my name, and they were the motorcycle leathers. I unpacked Steve’s stuff as well, smiling as this little domestic task gave me a little buzz of pleasure.

I found room service and called them and asked them to collect, clean and press my dresses. I added some of Steve’s trousers, as they were just rolled up in his rucksack. They were very quick, returning them in about an hour.

Steve just appeared when they brought the clothes back, wearing the hotel’s bathrobe.

“Dad will meet us for dinner at eight. So we have two hours to kill,” he said.

I dressed in a little black dress, stockings and high heel shoes. I had little jewellery, so felt completely underdressed when we went down to the bar. The women were wearing several million pounds worth of diamonds everywhere I looked. I just had my dolphin earrings and a crucifix on a little gold chain round my neck. I had a cheap Casio wristwatch, and no rings at all.

Jenny had on an emerald green dress, which matched her eyes, and suited her red hair. She looked stunning. Even the guys looked as if they had washed. As I passed the front desk, I started to giggle.

“What’s up?” Steve asked.

“The date, 15th June, it’s my birthday. I’m twenty today, and I forgot,” I said.

“Happy birthday.” he said, kissing me.

The hotel was oppressively formal and very staid. We all found it rather uncomfortable, so we crossed the plaza and found a little café that was more in line with our tastes. There seemed to be mainly younger people here, and there was a guy playing Spanish guitar in the corner.

Mark bought the beers, and was shocked at the prices. Steve muttered something and dashed off, saying he would be back.

“He just doesn’t want to get the next round in,” muttered Mark.

While we listened to the music, I watched the guitar player’s fingers. He was very good. After a couple of numbers he stopped to have a drink. I got up and walked over to him.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hola.”

“Es muy buen,” I said.

“Gracias, senorita.”

I looked at his guitar. It was very old and beautifully decorated with mother of pearl.

“You play?” he asked, in English. I laughed.

“Do I really look that English?” I asked.

“Si. All the fair girls are English,” he replied, in very good English.

“What about the Germans and Dutch?”

“They are not as beautiful as the English,” he said, with a grin.

I laughed, as he handed me his guitar.
 

*          *          *
 
I sat down and strummed a few chords. It had a beautiful sound, and was perfectly tuned. I grinned.

“Play something,” he said.

Remembering the instrumental piece that Dire Straights played for the movie, Local Hero, I started to play, and his expression of amused interest changed to one of serious appreciation.

Half way through the piece, I noticed Steve returning with an older version of him, who had to be his father. His father was talking on a mobile phone and, as they arrived at the door, Steve pointed at me, obviously telling his father whom I was.

They sat down at the table with the others, but I was worried, as Steve’s dad was staring at me. It was very disconcerting. However, I finished the piece, and was rewarded by a smattering of applause.

“Very good, you know anything else?” the Spaniard asked.

I started to play, I’ve got what I want, and I’m keeping it. And started to sing.

Steve’s dad spoke briefly into his phone and put it away. He turned to Steve, said something and then looked back at me again.

I finished the song and the applause was more appreciative this time.

I handed the guitar back to the man.

“Gracias,” I said, and gave him my best smile.

“You play well, you are professional, yes?”

“Student. But one day, perhaps.”

“Adios,” he said, and I went back to the table.

Steve and his father stood as I approached. Mark looked embarrassed and followed suit.

“That was brilliant, love,” Steve said.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling at him, so he kissed me.

“Oh, Donna, this is my dad. Dad, this is my girlfriend Donna Armitage.”

“Hello Mr Granger. I’ve heard a lot about you,” I said.

He took my hand, holding it for a moment.

“Donna, you’re the first girl of Steve’s that I have been allowed to meet. Believe me, it really is a pleasure. But please call me David. Tell me, that last song, Steve tells me you composed it and wrote the lyrics, is that right?”

I blushed.

“Yes, I suppose I was inspired by events on this holiday.”

“You’re very talented, have you thought of turning professional?”

“Not really, I just want to finish my degree and see what happens.”

“What course are you taking?” he asked, still holding my hand.

“Business studies and French.

He stared at me for a second.

“Wasted on you. You should be doing drama and music.”

“I’m doing drama,” said Jenny. David looked at her and smiled.

“Then when you have finished, look me up, I’m sure I can find a part for you.”

“Cool, thanks,” she said, smiling with surprise.

David turned back to me.

“What are you doing at the moment?” he asked.

I looked down at his hand, which still held mine, and then back at his face.

“At the moment, I’m standing in a café with my hand trapped by a film producer,” I said, with a cheeky smile.

He laughed, releasing my hand, so we could sit down.

“Seriously, have you any plans for the rest of the summer?”

I looked at the guys.

“Not really, we are just bumming around in the sunshine. When the money runs out I suppose we will head back to uni,” I said, and the others nodded.

David looked at all of us.

“Look, I have a problem. Do you know the American movie star Craig Howard?”

I had, so I nodded.

“Okay, well, he has a part in my movie, Tapestry of Deceit, playing a CIA agent trying to trace a mole within the organisation. The plot is quite convoluted, as he traces the guy to Monaco, but there he falls in love with a nightclub singer, called Monique Lasselles. There, some guys try to kill the girl, because she unwittingly knows too much. He saves her, but then they chase Craig all over Europe. Eventually, he finds himself back in Monaco, but the hunted become the hunters, as Craig tracks down the bad guys one by one until he corners the head nasty. However, the nasty man takes Craig down and is about to kill him when she steps in and saves his life. She ends up having her own place, courtesy of a grateful CIA.

“Anyway, Madeline Masters was going to play the singer, but she has gone and over run on another movie, so is not free for three months. It’s not a huge part, as Craig is the star, and most of the action is down to him going solo up against the bad guys. But, I can’t get a replacement in time, but when I saw you singing, I thought, ‘That’s it, I’ve found her.’ - so what do you say?”

---

 
To Be Continued...