Atalanta's Story Chapter Two.Written by Katelyn and edited by William Durr.
The ratings are for some suggestive language.I tried to show how a mother might react to a spontaneous sex change and walk a tight rope between being too explicit and not being too harsh. I may have erred. If I did please let me know.
In this chapter Atalanta has a lot to learn about being female but then so does her mom has to learn that she now has a daughter. I added an extra scene after my editor indicated that mom was being too tough on Atalanta. I believe the extra scene helps to flesh out her mom and explains her actions.
Chapter Two
I sat at the dressing table critically examining my makeup skills that had gotten better with practice. I really didn’t need the mascara as my lashes were full but mom thought curling and applying the mascara and liner would develop a skill set I would need as a woman. As in: attention to detail. My brows were finely arched and needed nothing but an occasional plucking. I liked applying eye shadow and achieving different dramatic looks though I always switched to subtle colors whenever I went out; saving the nighttime look for mom, Aunt Judy or Lindsey. Lindsey is my best friend and was one of the people who knew what happened to me.
My eyes had changed colors when I went through the change, from blue to grey that at times I observed glowing with a strange light that reminded me of a cat I had at night would when light touched at a particular angle. Those eyes were large, wide set, luminous and expressive directing attention to the center of my face, from my finely formed nose and full pouty lips that begged to be kissed to the soft and rounded jaw line and chin sloping gently to my delicate and sleek throat and neck.
My cheekbones were high with their own natural color that needed no blush but mom wanted me to learn to apply bronzers and contours to create illusions. Overall, I used minimal product but learned the techniques for creating different effects. It was strange but I did feel a sense of pride in those accomplishments.
Satisfied that my makeup was just the right image for the ‘look’ I wanted, I finished dressing in a beige skirt and peach blouse that hung loosely below the skirt’s waistband. Another habit Liz and Judy had drilled into me the last six weeks was makeup on before clothes. At first the habits of style, fashion, makeup, hair, and skincare seemed to make no sense to me even when it was explained that because of ‘the change’ I became a girl in the middle of a huge increase in female hormones; not the gradual increase that gives most girls time to adjust. Then add the sudden switch from male to female bodies and that hormone reversal they felt I needed a fast track to girlhood. When my first period came two weeks later I was grateful for the rituals that I could focus on and control. My second period had just ended and even more so than the first one did I accepted the change was permanent: That instead of growing up and living as a man that I now had my whole life before me as a woman.
The changes that happened over almost three days were many but overall the process worked within my body’s frame. I was still about the same height, 5’9”, weight 125lbs, and as a boy had inherited my mother’s bone structure and facial features. But that is not say I look like my mom did at 13. Her eyes are green, mine are grey and she has blonde hair while mine is red with bronze highlights and my complexion has warmer tones.
My new identification papers had arrived I was now officially Atalanta Rose Reed or Atalanta for short: Female age 13. Why the name Atalanta? To be honest I can’t say for sure, the name just came to me ... out of the blue. I could see it spelled out on a blackboard but I never got the spelling correct. That might be because the name was not familiar to me; it took a look of Google searches and different combination of letters before I found it. Atalanta was a Greek or Crete Goddess and as soon as I read her story, something in me clicked. The name contained Alan and Alana the name mom and Judy gave me at first. The “T” is different enough to honor Atalanta; it did in my mind anyway.
I went back to brushing my hair that tumbled in waves down parting across my shoulders and framing my face with it thick healthy mass of curls.
“Atalanta,” I heard Liz call.
“I’ll be right there,” I called back. Today was inspection day; the day mom and Judy reviewed me on my assignment for the week. Once a week Judy, Liz (that’s my mom) and me would have dinner and afterwards pointed out where I was improving and where I was not.
“Very good,” Liz praised, “You’re sense of style and fashion has improved drastically.”
“Hum ... mm,” Judy, replied thoughtfully. “Not really much of a challenge with your complexion for the casual outing. Maybe we should next have her put together a hot evening look.” Seeing my disappointment Judy grinned widely, “I’m just teasing you, you look great. Here give me a big hug.”
As we hugged I whispered, “I love you Aunt Judy.”
“I love you too.”
Liz interrupted us, “Time to get to this week’s lesson and we are changing course a little bit into a more serious subject.”
I immediately sat sensing that mom had a serious issue to discuss. Liz wasted no time, “Atalanta you have had six weeks to adjust being a girl, what can you tell are the differences between life as Alan and life as Atalanta?”
“Mum ... mm,” I said replaying discoveries in this body and remembering my Alan experiences. “Besides the obvious: a period, makeup, clothes, accessories, hair and skin care, my skin is a lot more sensitive ... more sensitive to touch, feel, to cold or heat or even to wind. Oh ... that reminds me if I could go back as Alan I’d apologize to every woman I ever met for some thoughts I had ... back then.”
“Go on dear,” Liz prompted her, “I am curious.”
“Well,” I declared, “I can’t get use to these ...,” cupping my breasts … “these boobs.”
“Boobs,” interrupted Judy laughing, “Can’t you think of another name?”
“Puppies, hooters, tits, the girls, bazookas ...”
“Whoa, girl.”
“... Breasts, it is hard to use my arms without them rubbing against my breasts and since they are so sensitive I am always aware of them. To help compensate for that and their weight I notice I’m holding my shoulders and arms back farther which is pushing my breasts out and up even more. That makes it seem like I am putting them on display and want people to see them then get upset when people, boys mostly talk to them and not me. But I am not presenting them or putting them on display.”
“Atalanta,” Judy mockingly scolded me.
“Okay maybe a little,” I confessed blushing.
“That is a natural instinct for the female population,” interjected Liz, “it signals the world that you have a healthy body capable of producing enough milk for a baby to live. The same goes for hips ... wide hips is a signal that you can deliver a healthy baby.”
“That is something else I noticed,” I began referring to the hips, “When I was just getting use to this body I first thought women’s shoes were made differently. That is the soles were ... like they were miniature rockers that forced me to walk using a rolling motion, you know like ocean waves. If I don’t each step seems like I am stomping around. I even went so far as comparing the soles and there is not any difference that I can see.”
“That is interesting,” an amused Judy replied, “I thought I had heard every description under the sun of a catwalk but using rocking chairs and ocean waves to describe it is new ... and very poetic.”
“Anything else,” Liz prompted me.
“I think that about covers it,” I confessed softly silently wondering if I missed something important.
“Well,” Liz began interrupting my musing, “What you have learned so far is attention to detail and self awareness. Both are needed for the next phase ... the three S’s ... Sexual, Situational, and Strength awareness.”
Seeing my confusion she gently patted my hand and continued, “It will become clearer in a few minutes. As Alan when you got aroused it was mostly confined to that one body part, right?”
I nodded numbly as she continued, “And I assumed you masturbated.”
Now my eyes really were as big as saucers as I mumbled a yes my cheeks flaming as Liz relentless resumed, “I am not trying to embarrass you but masturbating is a natural part of discovery as a boy or as a girl. Have you tried it yet as a girl?”
“Mom!” I cried shocked and horrified that first she knew I did it as Alan and was now suggesting I do it as Atalanta. I had thought about it and several times massaging my breasts had felt tiny shock waves race through my body. Shame or guilt had stopped me from going farther as at those times I felt like an alien in this body invading this young girl’s privacy. The truth was I still wasn’t entirely comfortable yet with this body.
“There is a very good reason I asked and yes I think you should,” she continued despite my protest and produced a box about six inches by three inches with a picture of the device imprinted. Mom had given me a vibrator, the last thing I expected from tonight’s lesson!
“That is a small one and is very comfortable to insert and has an extension to stimulate your clitoris. It won’t hurt you but you do need to be aroused and wet first.” Liz then adding in a confidential tone, “This is the same one I use and I love mine.”
I was speechless staring mesmerized at the box Liz had pushed across the table to me absorbing the revelations with all its implications.
Liz continued using her professional voice, “Female arousal is very different from the male arousal you knew and it effects can be overwhelming especially if it catches you by surprise. That might result in bad choices and situations.”
“Effects, what effects,” I asked finally.
“Your body will get hot and flushed, your skin will get sensitive, your pupils will dilate, and your lips and breasts will swell as an extra dose of hormones surges through your body. If you are not careful or used to it your body can overwhelm your brain and cause you to act or do things you later regret. Regret for a woman includes getting pregnant and or a bad reputation.” Liz paused for a moment before she asked, “Do you have any questions?”
I laughed dryly, “Never in my wildest dreams did I think when this summer started that we would have this discussion or that I would be concerned about getting pregnant.”
Liz shook her head, “Neither did I and that is why I am pushing you so hard because this wasn’t part of your learning experience. Girls grow up absorbing tidbits here and there until it becomes second nature. You didn’t have that luxury.”
Liz reaching a decision pushed a white disk across the table to me. It had a dial and the days of the week printed on the face.
Birth control pills my mind screamed! “Mom,” I cried out, “I don’t even know if I like boys that way.”
“Relax dear, I just want you carry it in your purse as a reminder of what ... could happen. Besides your body just started menstruating and I’d rather you have several cycles before we interrupt it. Okay?”
“Okay.” I gulped.
“Any questions so far?” Liz continued when I shook my head. “Then tell us what you have learned so far.”
I shook my head at what was fast becoming a lecture but replied determined to make the most of it. “Well,” I began hesitantly, “Female arousal is so different from my experiences as Alan that you want me to use a vibrator and masturbate so I don’t get overwhelmed and do something stupid like get pregnant.”
She smiled wistfully at my choice of words and tone, “That about sums it up but you will find that it really is a pleasant experience.”
Liz cleared her throat and took a sip of tea before continuing, “Next up is situational awareness. The attention to detail that you have acquired in your appearance naturally translates into this area and is as vital as sexual awareness; it really can’t be separated.”
Liz nodded at Judy who began, “Places, people, events, things, your emotions and more play a part of situational awareness. Places that hold more potential for danger are unlit, private or less traveled places. Dirty, abandoned, and neglected places also are places you need to avoid. People can be grouped into the same categories ... sort of, appearance and hygiene are important. But so is a sense of humor, how they treat other people, family and friends. Unlike places, people are not that cut and dried and you have to trust your intuition. Events are things like is alcohol being served, women have a lower alcohol tolerance due to our higher fat percentage, involves money. Things are like weapons, animals, machinery that sort of thing. Emotions are mostly your emotions. As women, emotions are our fuel and sometimes make us do some things we regret. A breakup, yours, or a close friend, an accident, death of someone close, job loss, any of those things can leave you vulnerable. Obviously, the more negatives a situation holds the more you should avoid it. Being aware of your surroundings, attention to detail, your head up, a confident attitude, developing a feel of people and places will in most cases get you out of tough situations unhurt.”
Shaking my head I asked, “I do not understand how this is different from what I learned as Alan. Those are the sort of things and places I’d naturally stay away from anyway so I don’t understand how it is different now.”
“Believe me it is,” Judy replied quickly, “For one thing you will receive lots more attention, offers, and flattery now that you are a beautiful desirable young lady. Our nature as women makes us less aggressive, more willing to please other people, and with the added attention and opportunities makes you more likely to accept invitations. The results are a lot different too. I don’t think as Alan you would worry about sexual assault as Atalanta you need to. Since smaller amounts of alcohol affect you faster, harder, and longer it is easier to spike your drink. That is why you need to keep in mind about not leaving unfinished sodas unguarded while you are gone to the restroom or dancing. Take it with you, finish it, or have someone you trust watching it. Those, like several things that fall into situational awareness categories are not hard and fast rules that always apply.”
Liz piped in, “Speaking of which I think you should seriously consider dating,” she held up her hands, “No,” at my initial negative response, “hear me out. I don’t want you getting into a serious relationship with a guy, not now, but I do think you need the experience. After all,” she smiled, “I just want you to have fun in a safe environment, not sleep with the guy.”
I stopped my initial retort and after a few deep breaths replied, “My initial reaction was not no, but hell no! However, I do think you are right if I can be upfront with the guy that is neither serious nor long term. I also want your approval of the date and the guy and I’d really love if Lindsey and I can double date. OMG I can’t believe I even said that.” I moaned holding my head in my hands sobbing softly. Pulling me to my feet, Judy and Liz engaged me in a group hug with our tears flowing freely.
Somebody handed me a tissue and I carefully dried my eyes.
Still sniffling I weakly said, ‘Mom I know it wasn’t your intention and probably is for the best but you have ripped my heart and soul out. There is nothing left of Alan, he is dead,” I cried sadly.
Liz hugged me tightly and cried fiercely, “No baby he is not dead. It may seem like it now, but as long you live he does too.”
Nodding I replied, “I will have to take your word for it, right now it doesn’t feel that way.”
Suddenly I reached a decision, “I know you have more left to go but you will have to excuse me if I go to bed. I have had a belly full.’
My mind froze at the prospect of dating and its images. In my pain and confusion, I wanted to lash out to wreak her hurt back in spades. But I didn’t. First because it wouldn’t be right, I’d be inflicting intentional pain for accidental pain. Secondly because some basic core decisions are individual ones, ones that no one but you can make and live with its results. Of course, I held my tongue and said nothing.
Liz continued, “Atalanta we may have covered too much tonight, in more detail than needed, and maybe too negatively and harshly but we needed to get a point across; that point is different rules apply to you now.”
Liz sighed brushing her back said, “The last thing we wanted to cover is strength awareness. I’m sure you noticed that while your height and weight are the same that weight is distributed differently ... now.”
A rueful smile played across my face as I looked down at my breasts and my hands traced my hips, “I noticed.”
“... You have less muscle mass and less strength. Physically you are not a match against a man but you have certain advantages a man doesn’t have. The number one rule is safely running or getting away from an attacker ... anyway you can. You can use force multipliers, mace or pepper spray, fingernails, eye gouging, a knee to the groin, even car keys or even your purse if it has a metal buckle to hurt him while you escape. You can use his desire for you, and most of the time it will be a sexual assault, against him. Flirting with him or showing him some cleavage; any distraction that gives you an edge to escape is acceptable if not desirable.”
“Because of our size and vulnerability during pregnancy and when our children are young we band together with other women for safety. We cooperate; men compete. We negotiate; men state. Women create; men contend. We receive; men direct. Your best advantages are the female mind and your girlfriends. That is why all this instruction is so important; to develop that female mind to go with the female body to give you all the advantages being female offers.”
Liz paused sipping her drink exchanging looks with Judy, “Does that make sense?”
I slowly nodded as I reviewed our conversation to date and replied softly, “Yeah it is starting to come together. Do you mind if I summarize what I think I have learned?”
Judy and Liz nodded with Judy asking, “Atalanta you are already thinking like a woman. I bet you didn’t catch what you just did, did you?”
I shook my head confused. “You asked for permission or negotiated to summarize. That is a feminine response. Congratulations!”
“Thanks.”
“Please continue.”
“Well Judy you sort of summarized my summary by noting my question. If the big idea behind this training is developing automatic feminine instincts then my question and you’re pointing it out underscores that understanding. Doesn’t it?”
“Yes it does,” both women shouted gleefully.
“Good. Is it safe to assume you will want me to start implementing some of these strategies?”
Heads nodded in agreement.
“These are the simplest,” I said indicating the box and disc and picking up the disc, “This goes in my purse tonight,” But I continued smirking pointing at the box holding the vibrator, “I am not saying when that will ...” Both women smiled broadly at the implication and what was unsaid.
“As far as going on a date, I would rather see how that develops first. And Lindsey is already my best friend. There is one part that disturbs me and that is the part about self-defense. It makes us victims or us to be almost helpless. In fact, it makes my blood boil. That is odd as Alan I was pretty laid-back, passive, and tolerant.”
“Dear it might be because now it is a possibility that it could happen to you, as Alan it was very unlikely.”
I shook my head, “No that is part of it though, but it is more than that. It is just a feeling ... something just out of the blue, a feeling of strength, resolve, and anger at ... injustice.”
“Don’t you think you are being a little harsh with Atalanta? We are throwing an awful lot her way,” Judy whispered to Liz when they were alone.
“I don’t know maybe I am loading her down with too much information too soon,” Liz responded biting her lower lip.
“We are swimming in uncharted waters,” Judy conceded.
“That we are,” Liz agreed, “I don’t believe magic changelings was ever in our text books in college. But if Atalanta had grown up as a little girl some of what we have discussed she would have absorbed from girlfriends and her world organically. But my sexual health talks with her would have taken place anyway but over many months and not just a few weeks.”
“I agree with you she needs this information but at some point she will tire of the accelerated rate of learning that we are pushing at her and possibly resent us. I’d like for these Thursday dinners continue to be looked forward to,” Judy countered.
“I know,” Liz returned as an involuntary shiver sending its icy fingers up her spine, “I don’t want that either. I admit that I’ve been taking advantage of what I consider a small window of opportunity to influence her and to push the envelope. But I don’t want to push her away while I’m doing it.”
“Liz I know you have her best interests at heart; we both do but aren’t we pushing her too quickly into a date?”
“It’s not a real date,” Liz protested.
“It is to her,” Judy countered.
“She will naturally make friends with girls and learn all about girlfriend rules. I was concerned that she might bring a lot of baggage with her left over from growing up male.”
“What kind of baggage?”
“I assume Alan grew up viewing males as competitors and not as romantic interests and I was concerned that she would continue to hold those views; particularly after warning her about males and pregnancy.”
“Liz you may be right but you may also be wrong about that.”
“I know,” Liz conceded, “but I think she needs the experience and it’s a one off event. But I do feel that we should back off and use Thursdays for bonding and just talk about what comes up naturally.”
“I know it has been hard on you; you did lose a son,” Judy sympathized.
“I know and Alan lost a part of who he was but we both gained something in return. I guess in retrospect I was pushing both of us hard because down deep I didn’t want to confront who, the why, and the how of the transformation or the implications that those questions gives rise to. Nor the reality that event left us with.”
“Liz I feel you need to mourn the loss of your son.”
“Oh my god,” Liz exclaimed, “I’ve been dealing with Atalanta almost exactly as how I dealt with Alan.”
“And that was probably the best thing to do for both of you but now it’s time to be mother and daughter.”
“You’re right,” Liz replied walking Judy to the front door where they hugged and exchanged good nights.
“We talked about the “P” word,” I was telling Lindsey the next afternoon of the conversation from the night before with Liz and Judy. We were in her bedroom doing each other’s toenails with the same bright red enamel nail polish.
Giggling Lindsey exclaimed, “Would that be ‘Penis, Peter, Period, or Pussy.”
“No,” I snorted, “that would be “Pregnancy and Pills.”
Lindsey and her family knew about my transformation from male to female. “Wow,” Lindsey responded, “What brought that on?”
I giggled, “She wanted me to understand what my new role means now.”
“So does that mean you like boys?” She asked and added, “And have you picked out a nice cute one ... yet.”
I stuck my tongue out at her teasing; I had told her that I wasn’t even sure I liked boys that way. “No,” I replied and rolling my eyes, “She does want me to try dating though just to get the social experience.”
“Cool,” she replied, “We can double date.”
“Oh joy.”
“You girls about done,” Hannah asked from the doorway.
“In a minute ... mom,” Lindsey replied indicating our toenails.
Girls! She said that naturally, including me. But was I? That thought made me wonder; was being a girl a matter of looking and acting like a girl. Or was it ...
“What?” I asked.
“I said are you alright? You got a weird look in your eyes and zoned out,” Lindsey was saying.
I couldn’t really tell Lindsey what I was thinking at least not all of it. “It just struck me odd that I am a girl now when your mom said ‘you girls.”
“Well duh,” She replied playfully punching my arm, “you are dry,” indicating our artwork.
“So are you.”
“I gotta go. I am helping mom in the kitchen.” Hannah was the spa’s chef and Lindsey had her mom’s culinary talent.
“Me too,” I replied carefully stepping into my sandals, “I think I will go and talk with Cari or Tara.” Tara and Cari operated the mud baths and the hot springs, the spa’s main attraction. They were a couple and the other two people that knew my secret.
Tara was in her office doing paperwork when I found her, “Tara, how are you?”
“Good,” she replied as she looked up from her papers, “And how are you doing?”
“Fine,” I replied, “Have you got a minute?”
“Yeah, I was getting ready to take a break anyway. What can I do for you?”
Tara was half Native American on her mother’s side with a mix of Irish and Spanish from her father. She grew up influenced by her mother’s people and practiced many of the ‘old ways.’
“I thought you might be able to help me with what happened to me out there.”
Tara understood I was referring to her grandmother’s experiences in the enchanted mountains and the old woman’s adherence to her tribe’s tradition.
“I’m afraid I can’t offer you much except for generalities. We know the Anasazi People used this area for fertility and shaman rites and later by other tribes. What we don’t know is what exact changes those rites were able to accomplish or why.”
“Well I was hoping you might be able provide me some clues about why this happened at all and to me in particular.”
“My grandmother is looking into it, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I was you,” Tara replied.
“I won’t,” I replied, ‘just covering all the bases.” Seeing her eyes travel back to her paperwork, “I need to go, see you later.”
“Later,” Tara agreed her head still bent over her desk.
