I wrote this over ten years ago. It was essentially finished, but I somehow never considered it ready for posting. Or, at least, it had gone as far as I was inspired to take it. It kinda begs for a sequel, but it's fine as it is.

It's big. It took some time to edit. Especially since I needed to change the dates so that it wouldn't be so... well... dated.

Much thanks to Terry Volkirch for test reading it way back when. She might even remember the story.

One fine day, Joe wakes up and finds that his whole life has been turned upside-down.

Day 98;
Wednesday, July 7, 2021:

I had to get up early and go to district court. I dressed in a demure white lacy dress that made me look very young and innocent. That was just for practice. The outcome of this hearing is pretty much set.

I was the last in line. His other victims, similarly dressed, and looking scared and devastated, recounted the horror that they had faced. When it was my turn, I was shaking. It was hard enough for me. It must have taken every bit of strength that the other girls had. Fortunately for them, the defense lawyer didn't cross-examine. There was no point.

Like I said, the results were pretty much set before we even arrived. The rapist would be held without bail. A jury trial was set for mid October. This allowed the prosecutor and defense to prepare their cases, but it also pushed the trial right into the next school year.

After the rapist was led away, and we left the court room, I was surrounded by the other girls. They all hugged me and wanted to thank me for catching the cause of their nightmares. The friends and family of the girls stood in a rough circle around us when this was going on. Then, they all had to express their gratitude. It was really quite overwhelming.

There was one older lady who seemed to be hanging back and surveying the situation. I wondered if she was a reporter, or maybe a court official. It turns out that she is the facilitator of the support group for the victims and their families. She invited me to join them, along with Jan and Joe. I hope the sessions are at different times, or it'll be difficult to arrange this. As it is, it's going to be difficult to come up with excuses for not attending the trial.

As we left the building, a group of reporters was just breaking up. Later, on the news, we saw the familiar picture of a man being led out in chains, doing his best to cover his face.

But this was the rapist. That put a whole new personal twist on it.

Anyhow, the reporters started to converge on us. The police deterred them and made a clear path for us to get to our cars. The names of most of the victims couldn't be divulged because they were minors, so we should be pretty safe from phone calls by overzealous reporters.

Day 99;
Wednesday, July 8, 2021:

I'm an emotional wreck again today. I held myself together when I had to, but now I'm falling apart. Luckily, Jan is home today. I don't know what I would do without her.

Day 113;
Thursday, July 22, 2021:

And again it comes. And again I bleed.

This time, I saved up a few hours of heavy labor. I might end up dipping into my growing cache of Joe time, but it's worth it. I would rather be sweating and doing heavy work than bloating and cramping and bleeding. Besides, my Joe form is starting to get lean and muscular. I think it turns Jan on. Maybe watching me work hard and get sweaty will get her all hot and bothered for tomorrow morning.

At one hour, I knew that I was now out of my freebie time. At two hours, I could tell that I was dipping into my banked time. Who needs a clock, eh? At three hours, something else happened. I couldn't quite tell, but the impression I got was "reset". After a little more than three hours of picking up rocks and tossing them on to the trailer, I walked into that little tent that I put up. I dropped my sweaty clothes to the ground and shifted. To my surprise, there was no cramps. No bloating. No bleeding!

Day 135;
Friday, August 13, 2021:

Wait a minute! This can't be right. I'm four days early. Well, at least I know how to fix it.

I guess what's happening is that any time over three hours spent in a particular form will cause the other form to reset. My Joe form always comes with a perfect brush cut and a clean-shaved face. Apparently, if I spend three hours as Joe, then Tiffany will come back to a particular part of the cycle. This could be useful later. Shoot, this is useful right now.

Day 142;
Friday, August 20, 2021:

Jan and I went down to the middle school to get me registered. The most difficult part was convincing them to enroll me into the advanced classes. The guidance counselor, Mr. Spencer, though he didn't come out and say it, didn't seem to think that girls needed to bother themselves with advanced classes. Of course, Doctor Jan had a few things to say about that. Finally, he relented, allowing me to sign up for algebra, advanced science, social studies, music, and college English. I also had to take a half a year each of physical education and home economics.

Day 143;
Saturday, August 21, 2021:

Jan should have started her period yesterday.

Oops! If my appendectomy scar is gone, it probably means that I still have my appendix. Maybe my vas deference is fixed, too. Oh crap!

Day 145;
Monday, August 23, 2021:

Still no period. Jan took me to one of her colleagues for testing. I shifted to Joe form just before getting out of the car (I was already dressed appropriately). I gave a sample, and my sperm count was zero. I sat around for three hours and gave another sample. This time, there were a few pollywogs in there. Not enough for conception, though.

That definitely answers another question. My reset Joe form starts out with no facial hair, no plaque on the teeth, and no sperm cells swimming in the seminal vesicle. If I want to get Jan pregnant again, I'll have to stay in my Joe form for a while first. That's a definite relief.

Day 146;
Tuesday, August 24, 2021:

I never thought I would be so glad to see the period start. Jan has my sincere sympathies, though. Hopefully, our mysterious benefactors will soon give her the same advantages that they gave me.

Day 149;
Friday, August 27, 2021:

School starts in a couple weeks. I wonder if I'm ready. It's been a long time since I attended any classes.

Theoretically, I should have no problems. After all, I have a high school diploma and a college degree. For sure, math and science are going to be easy classes. English ought to be relatively simple, too. Music will be fun. Home economics will be a mixed bag. I can cook well enough, but I have no idea how to sew. This new body of mine ought to do OK in gym, though I have no real sports skills. Social studies is going to be the class that will require the most effort. I don't think I remember anything from my old history and geography classes.

Physically, I'm ready to go. If I dress right, I look like a genuine eighth grader -- sort of. I look like an eighth grader who has developed physically a bit more than her peers. I will have to make sure that I dress down a bit.

As promised, my physical development is pretty much complete. Both of my bodies are healthy, strong, and mature.

My Joe body is still 5' 11 1/2" tall, but my weight is down to 195 pounds. My musculature is a bit better developed than it was when I was in college and working out five days a week. I have a full head of hair (a brush cut) and no wrinkles, but I still somehow look like I'm in my 30s or 40s.

My tiffany body is 5' 7" tall, with a C bust and plenty of curves. Since my legs are proportionately longer, they are actually the same length as my Joe legs. That means that I can wear the same sweat pants on both bodies. Also, I have some men's jeans that are designed for mature men (with a bit more room in the seat) that fit both bodies reasonably well. My favorite 'shift clothes', however, are the bib coveralls that I have. They are supposed to look loose. On top, I can use sweat shirts or t-shirts that fit well. They are quite long on my Tiffany body, but that's no big deal. I have to deal with the bra before switching back and forth, but it is otherwise not much of a problem.

Jan and I had to carefully choose some school girl styled clothes that tend to hide my curves. I really don't want to attract too much attention. When I'm wearing them, I really look like an eighth grade girl.

But I'm not the only one getting new clothes. With plenty of encouragement from me, Jan is dressing up her new, improved body. It took me a while to talk her into it, but she is now getting a nice assortment of shorter skirts and dresses. I told her that if I can wear them, she can wear them. She wanted to disagree, but she really couldn't come up with a valid argument.

It's easy to wonder why our mysterious benefactors are going all-out to make us look good, but it really isn't that hard to figure out. If you're going to design and build a car, are you going to design an ugly one, or a beautiful one? Similarly, since they have a lot of creative control over how we look, and they have knowledge of what we like, they are doing the logical thing. As an engineer, I can understand that.

Part Two: School Days

Wednesday, September 8, 2021:

The day started out easily enough. As usual, Jan and I got up and got the kids ready for school. We all walked down to the bus stop at the corner. It's the same quarter mile walk that either Jan or I took every school day since we moved up here. The difference is that, instead of walking home, I got on the bus with the kids. It's my first day of school, too. I don't get to walk home and spend some special time with Jan.

Still, I need to do this in order to learn how to be an authentic young lady. I need to understand the school culture, and I need to be able to fit in with my age group. I don't know why, exactly, but I'm confident that it's necessary. I don't know what God's plan is for us (my family), but I recognize the necessity for growth.

Did you ever have a dream (or nightmare) where you are back in school, and maybe about to take a test, but don't know a thing?

So here I am, dressed in a light knee-length skirt with matching leggings, a blouse, and flat shoes. My backpack contains a single tri-fold folder with dividers, a scientific calculator, tablet, old cell phone, new cell phone, and an assortment of pens and pencils.

The classes went well enough. I decided that it would be best if I don't attract much attention. With that in mind, I sat near the middle of the class and busily took notes -- not that there are many notes to take on the first day.

Friday, September 18, 2021:

Well, the first full week of school is over. In that time, all of the teachers managed to find time to give us a quiz. Mrs. Troybrange, my algebra teacher, gave out two quizzes. She gave us one last Thursday (the second day of school) just to find out what we all know. There was much griping, even though she explained that the quiz wouldn't count toward our grade.

I was trying to decide whether I should purposely blow some questions, or ace it. I didn't want to attract undue attention by knowing more than expected, but being dishonest just doesn't sit well with me. In the end, when she asked me where I learned all that stuff, I said that I had received some home schooling. That was only partly deceptive because I have done a whole lot of learning at home in the past several years.

I did well on the second quiz, too, of course. This stuff is pretty simple.

Wednesday, September 23, 2021:

I'm doing well in all of my classes. I need to pay attention and read the text in social studies class, but I can get by with just skimming the rest. Music is a lot of fun. I have always loved music, but I never took any formal classes. It's ironic that it took a trip back to eighth grade for me to take a music class.

Phys Ed is easy enough with this body. It certainly isn't any more of a physical challenge than I routinely face on our little hobby farm. It takes some practice to learn the physical skills and reflexes for the various games and exercises, but that's no big deal.

Monday, October 11, 2021:

Despite my efforts to keep a low profile, I'm being noticed. While class participation is mandatory, I manage to keep it to a bare minimum. I keep my voice calm, and rarely volunteer. Still, the tests and quizzes get the teachers' attention, and my calm demeanor and history of always having the correct answers has managed to get the attention of my fellow students. I suppose the gift from our mysterious benefactors has something to do with it, too. I am dressing modestly, but nothing I wear is likely to hide the artistry of those who designed this body that I inhabit. Still, if I continue in my attempt to be unobtrusive, and do nothing to seek attention, I should be able to eventually fade into the background.

Wednesday, October 13, 2021:

Today is the big day. Jury selection is done, and they are calling the witnesses in.

Making this voluptuous body look demure and virginal is going to be a challenge. Still, with some help, we got it figured out. I am wearing a lacy dress that isn't tight anywhere, has a high neck, and goes just below my knees. I don't want to show too much leg, but I also don't want a formal-looking long dress. Young innocent girls generally wear short dresses. White leggings added to the 'young and innocent' look. I also wore a little makeup, but it was applied to make me look young, dewy-eyed, and innocent. They called it 'make down'.

The trial was ugly, as I predicted. They started by going through a bunch of DNA evidence. The rapist's DNA was found in all of the victims, except for me. They found his pubic hairs in their clothes and on their bodies. They found the girls' clothes, hair, and skin flakes in the van and in the rapist's apartment (where he had a stash of souvenirs). They ended it with the recording I had made, along with some testimony from an expert witness who said that he analyzed the voices, and that they match.

Then, it was my turn. I gave my well-rehearsed accounting of the attempted rape. I didn't have to fake the shaky voice and sniffles. Then, the recording was played again. It was stopped frequently so that I could describe what happened at each point.

Of course, I left out the part about shifting to Joe. All they need to know is that I surprised him by kneeing him in the groin, then I got the upper hand and doused him with pepper spray.

Then, the dreaded cross-examination came.

"You were dressed seductively, weren't you?"

"No, I wasn't," I replied. "Besides, since when does dressing prettily excuse someone?" I chose 'prettily' instead of 'attractively' or 'nicely' to stay as far away as possible from any synonym of 'sexy'.

"Did you do anything to lead him on?"

"How could I? He grabbed me from behind and threw me into his filthy van! After that, all I did was cower in the corner -- that is, I cowered until I realized that it was up to me if I didn't want to get raped. But then, you heard the recording. You know what happened after that."

I had been trying to hold it together, but I realized that it was useless. I started sobbing at that point, and the jury just looked disgustedly at the lawyer. The lawyer released me and the prosecutor called his next witness.

It got really ugly after that. The prosecutor was kind and considerate, but he had to ask the questions. The defense lawyer was ruthless in his attempt to make the witnesses lose credibility.

Finally, all the witnesses had been called. Recess was called for the day, and the jury would start deliberations in the morning. After we all filed out, the support group facilitator lead us all to a comfortable room to recover. We were assured that the worst was over, and that the jury would have no choice but to find him guilty.

Thursday, October 14, 2021:

We were all in court again. The jury filed out for deliberations. It took them all of ten minutes to return a verdict of guilty. We all hugged each other as the author of our nightmares was led away in chains. Sentencing is set for next month.

Tuesday, October 19, 2021:

Now, my gym and swimming teachers are getting into the act. My gym teacher wants me to try out for the volleyball team, and my swimming teacher wants me to try out for the swim team.

OK, so volleyball is kind of fun on occasion. That changes when you take it seriously and feed all of your life time into the hungry maw of athletic perfection. I simply don't want the stress. I also have better things to do with my time than to spend it honing some skills that have little practical application. I would rather ride my horse or exercise my creativity in front of the computer while making some money.

Swimming is more appealing, but it would still take way too much of my time. I love the water, but I'm just not that interested in proving how fast I can go. Give me a pair of flippers, and I'll outswim anyone on the team. Anyhow, I told the teachers that being a part of a team is a big commitment, and that I can't make that kind of a commitment without failing in other commitments.

Friday, October 22, 2021:

I'm beginning to really like Mrs. Troybrange, my algebra teacher. She seems to understand that I just want to quietly take the class without drawing any attention to myself. She still calls upon me to participate in the class, but she doesn't single me out. She also doesn't make a fuss about my test scores.

I had kind of noticed before, but now it's obvious that she's pregnant. I think the other kids just assume that she's fat, but anyone who has been with a pregnant woman up close and personal can definitely see the signs. The rounded shape of her belly, and the fact that it appears firm instead of floppy are strong indicators that she will soon be cradling an infant.

Tuesday, October 26, 2021:

I was walking to lunch when I overheard some of the other kids gossiping. Apparently, someone had started a rumor that there is a cross-dresser in the school. There is a boy who is dressing like a girl and using the girls' locker room. The school adults know about it, but aren't doing anything about it. One of the boys sneered and pointed at me. "I'll bet it's her!" The girl walking next to me jumped just a bit at the sudden rudeness of the boy.

I almost panicked, but I calmed myself down quickly enough. "You think so, eh?" Then, I suggested that he ask some of the girls in my gym class. He said that he would like to have a look himself, but I just snorted. "You wish."

"You see? She's acting like a boy!"

I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to point out that he's acting like a gossipy girl.

Later, as I was getting dressed for gym, I noticed that people were sneaking peeks at me. In gym, I was uncomfortably aware of the stares. If my sense of humor hadn't abandoned me, I would have rolled up a sock and stuck it in my shorts.

But I don't need that accusation. It's close enough to the truth that I really need to remove all doubt. With that in mind, I purposely got undressed as far from the shower as possible, grabbed my soap and shampoo, and paraded past most of the girls on my way to get washed. I took a long shower. A number of people came in, showered, and left while I was washing up. Finally, I wandered back and dressed in my regular clothes. That should take care of that little rumor.

Thursday, October 28, 2021:

Jan is picking me up after school so that we can go on a date. Of course, I don't call it that when I'm in school.

I went to the locker room to change clothes. There are no sports teams practicing after school today, so I was surprised to hear a shower running. Soon, the shower stopped and I could hear someone walking out of the showers. She came out, then turned around and ran back in. Oh my gosh! The rumors are true! It's that new girl... what's her name? Oh yeah.

"Hi Myra", I called.

She came back out with a towel wrapped around her body. Her face was as red as a beet. "Don't worry. I won't out you," I assured her.

She looked like she was about to cry. She composed herself as she was getting dressed. Then, she walked shyly over. I think it took all her courage. "Thank you", she said meekly.

I smiled at her and held out my hand. "Tiffany Miller", I said. "I'm new here, too."

She tried to smile back. She isn't afraid that I'll let her secret out, is she? She looks so sad and nervous. "Myra Jones. I'm pleased to meet you." She tried to make conversation as if nothing is wrong. "I think you're in my algebra class. Mom is making me take all the advanced placement classes. Algebra is so hard!"

I don't think that algebra is hard at all. In fact, it's one of my major skate classes. Of course, I can't tell her that algebra seems easy after going through the math classes that they make you take in engineering school.

She really looks like she needs a friend.

"Would you like to study it with me? My foster mom is taking me out for shopping and ice cream in a few minutes, but we can get together after school tomorrow." We exchanged phone numbers. Later that evening, Jan teased me about picking up junior high chicks.

Tuesday, November 2, 2021:

It turned out that Myra and I were in a lot of the same classes. I wonder why I never noticed that before. Maybe she's better at fading into the background than I am.

I found out that she picks up on stuff pretty well. It didn't take much instruction on my part to get her caught up. What she mainly needed was confidence. I guess that's pretty hard when what's left of your world is falling apart.

We learned a lot about each other over the past few days. I had to be careful about what I said, of course. It's really hard to feel good about making a friend when you have to hide so much about who you are. And what's a 41 year old man doing making friends with a junior high girl, anyhow?

But it's not Joe that's her friend. It's Tiffany. Tiffany is very much the young teen-age girl. Tiffany is learning how to be a proper teen-age girl, just like Myra is learning how to be a proper teen-age girl.

I didn't lie to her, of course. I never gave her the cover story that the legal papers use. I never talk about my past at all. The time before I moved in with the Jeblonskis is simply never discussed. I let people draw their own conclusions about why that is. She knows that Joe and Jan are my legal foster (not adoptive) parents. She knows that I'm adapting to my new life here.

Myra is spending a lot of time here. Her parents don't care. They are wrapped up in their own issues and in their divorce. And, even in the best of times, they were too involved in their professional careers to worry about their marriage or family. They had other priorities.

Myra is the youngest of four. Her two big brothers and her big sister are all out on their own. Neither her mom or dad seem particularly interested in having custody of her. They say that they love her, but their actions speak louder than that. They both want to be done with raising kids. They got three out of the house, but hey, there's still one left.

I had discussed this with Jan. We all love Myra, but she is clinging a little too closely to me. She needs more friends. We started by including her in some of our family outings. That way, instead of just being with me, she is interacting with the whole family. She and John have gotten to be pretty good friends, and Jan enjoys having yet another girl to fuss over.

Thursday, November 4, 2021:

Myra has been riding home on the bus with us lately. She really doesn't have any life at home, so she comes here. She seems desperate for love and acceptance. She has taken to helping out with the farm chores. She does a good job. She didn't even need any help learning how to milk the goats. When I asked her about it, she smiled and told me about Ron and Rosie Farmington. Myra and her family had lived next to them until about two years ago, when her brother moved out and her parents moved to another house.

I know Ron and Rosie from church. They are a wonderful couple that raised five kids of their own. They also cared for countless foster kids, and adopted three special needs children. When the strange and unloved Mark Jones started coming over to play with their kids, they took him in and loved him. They encouraged him to help on their farm, which gave him a real sense of belonging. He didn't just eat at their house. He actually helped to put the food on the table.

"So that's who loved you!", I said to Myra. She gave me a puzzled look. "Nobody learns to be as warm and loving as you in a sterile atmosphere. To love, you need to be loved. Ron and Rosie are the people who gave you the gift of love."

Myra smiled and said, "I never thought of it that way!"

* * * * *
Interlude

Vrall walked into the room. "I got your message. How did it happen that you added a person to the integration plan?"

Snrxl replied, "I didn't add her. Tiffany and her family did."

Vrall looked at him questioningly.

"Tiffany met young Myra Jones a few days ago, and they have become good friends. Tiffany sympathizes with her because she has gender dysphoria, and the rest of Tiffany's family have quite fallen in love with her."

"Gender dysphoria?", asked Vrall

"Myra has a male body, but a female soul. That happens in our culture, but our technology makes treatment a trivial issue. In their society, the clash between the gender of the soul and the gender roles demanded by society result in some real soul-crippling pain. It gets so bad that many of them opt for hormone treatments and primitive surgery just to take on the outward appearance of their true gender."

"What are your plans, Snrxl?"

"Well, I have already done all the scans and set up a primary and secondary body for her. I am also taking the precaution of teaching Tiffany how to implement those changes via her implant. Myra is in real danger."

"In danger? Why?"

"Well, " replied Snrxl, "Many transsexuals get murdered when they are found out by their peers. It is considered by many to be an extreme form of perversion."

Vrall could only frown. It's hard to not be shocked when one learns of the atrocities of a primitive culture.