Wishful Thinking

Chapter One

“After dinner, we went for a walk on the beach,” Hunter said as I sat at my desk typing on my keyboard. “We made our way to a quiet spot in the shadows and had sex right there on the sand.”

He chuckled.

I continued working as Hunter prattled on about his sexual escapades. I hadn’t asked him about his night out with his girlfriend or given any indication that I was interested in hearing about it, but he didn’t care. He enjoyed a captive audience and would have kept talking even if I had told him to shut up.

“Have you ever had sex in public?” he asked rhetorically.

“I can’t say that I have,” I answered.

It was true. I had never had sex in public. Or in private. I was twenty-two-years-old and still a virgin. To my embarrassment, I had managed to graduate from college several months earlier without so much as having kissed a girl.

The few people I had shared that information with had been surprised to learn that I had never slept with a girl. I guess I should have been flattered that people were shocked to find out I was a virgin. I was six feet tall with an athletic build, a good-looking guy. But none of that takes you very far when you have no friends and zero social skills. I had been a loner since I was a kid and never gotten along with others very well. Naturally, it had led to a lonely life.

I wasn’t about to share the fact that I was a virgin with Hunter, who fancied himself a womanizer. We shared an office at the law firm where we both worked as paralegals. It was my first real job. I had applied for the position because I figured I would eventually enroll in law school and I should get some work experience in the legal profession to find out what it was all about. So far, I wasn’t thrilled with the work. The practice of law wasn’t as sexy or exciting as it appeared to be on television and in the movies. Yeah, there was plenty of human drama, but I wasn’t exactly drawn to drama.

Case in point, Hunter spent most of the workday telling me about all the crazy sex he was having with his girlfriend and going over his lifetime of sexual experiences, from losing his virginity in a movie theater at the age of thirteen to an older girl to the orgies he had participated in while in high school. We were almost the same age and his anecdotes put my own lack of experience in perspective.

“Hi boys,” a playful voice called from the doorway. An attractive woman a couple of years younger than me stood in the doorway wearing a tight-knit green sweater and black skirt, staring at us with a large stack of papers in her hands.

“Hey, Brooke,” I said. “What’s up?”

Brooke was a secretary who worked for one of the associate attorneys at the firm named Henry. She was a hot, dark-haired girl with tan skin and a slim figure. Her nice curvy rear was her best feature. Granted, her breasts were small to the point where she was nearly flat-chested, but that was hardly a deal-breaker. I had a thing for her and was glad for any opportunity to talk to her at work. Unfortunately, she was sleeping with Henry, and I had no chance with her. Not that I would have had a chance even if she were single. Story of my life.

Brooke sashayed over to my desk with a glib smile on her face and plopped the stack of papers down in front of me.

“We received these discovery requests from opposing counsel today and Henry wants draft responses prepared for his review by Monday.”

It was already Thursday, which meant I would probably have to work late tomorrow to have those responses ready in time. I might even have to request overtime to come into the office over the weekend.

“Sure thing,” I told Brooke.

“Thanks, sweetie,” Brooke said with a grin. “I knew I could count on you.”

With that, Brooke walked out of the office, swinging her big, round ass back and forth invitingly as she left.

Hunter chuckled again.

“She’s got you whipped, and you’re not even fucking her. That’s sad, David.”

The entire firm seemed to know that I had a crush on Brooke. Brooke definitely knew and took advantage of my feelings for her by constantly shoveling the worst work assignments onto my desk.

“It’s my job, man,” I said. “What am I supposed to do? Tell her to fuck off?”

“No. Tell her you want to fuck. Come on, you’ve got nothing to lose. You want her, go for it. Women like a man who goes after what he wants.”

I knew better than to argue with Hunter about women, so instead of taking the bait, I said, “Do you ever think about anything other than fucking?”

“There’s nothing else worth thinking about. Except money. And money is only worth thinking about because the more of it you have, the easier it is to get laid.”

Not long afterward, the attorney who ran the firm, Mr. Baxter, barged into our shared office. He was dressed in a drab dark-gray suit that fit awkwardly over his stocky frame. It made me glad that I didn’t have to wear a suit to work. As paralegals, it was fine for Hunter and me to wear business casual. I was dressed in a blue button-down shirt and khaki pants. It was a good look on me.

“How’s it going, boys? Is the draft of the motion I asked for ready?”

Hunter and I had been assigned to prepare a discovery motion a few days earlier. He had done some research on the issues involved while I had drafted the bulk of the motion itself. I had even stayed at the office late the night before to make sure it would be ready today while Hunter had run off with his girlfriend.

Hunter grabbed the draft of the motion and handed it to Mr. Baxter.

“Here you are, sir. Always happy to help with anything you need.”

Incensed that Hunter was trying to take credit for my work, I stood up and said, “I made sure to include each of the arguments you asked for, Mr. Baxter, and I double-checked all the citations to ensure they were properly formatted.”

Mr. Baxter didn’t even bother to look up at me as he began rifling through the pages of the motion.

“You boys work fast,” Mr. Baxter said. “I’ll look this over and let you know if I need any revisions. David, never try to take all the credit for a team effort.”

After Mr. Baxter left, Hunter looked at me and wagged his finger back and forth, chastising me.

“You shouldn’t try to toss your coworkers under the boss, David,” Hunter said with a knowing smirk. “That kind of attitude will come back to bite you in the ass.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

Mercifully, the day eventually came to an end. As Hunter and I walked out to the parking lot, he told me about how he had recently met a new girl and was planning to meet up with her over the weekend. It was not his first time cheating on his girlfriend and it wouldn’t be his last.

“You got any plans for the weekend?”

My plans on any given weekend usually involved going to a bar and drinking myself into a black out. Sometimes, if I got drunk enough, I would try to flirt with girls who usually shot me down hard, although on occasion they would humor me. Every so often I would meet a girl online and arrange to meet up in person, although that rarely went anywhere. Generally, my weekends were dark, depressing breaks between soul-crushing work weeks.

“Not really,” I said simply.

With that, we parted ways and I got into my Toyota Corolla that I was paying off with the bulk of my paycheck and Hunter got into the BMW his parents had bought for him.

As I usually did after a long day of work, I felt like crap and thought about picking up a six-pack on the way home. Then I remembered that I had to get a dresser or cabinet to store some new shirts I had bought the weekend before. Halfway home, I turned into the parking lot of a strip mall and parked my car outside a thrift store. I had driven past the place numerous times on the way home from work and figured I would be able to find something suitable there for cheap.

The place was practically deserted. There was a musty stink in the air with a faint hint of mothballs and dust bunnies. I walked past several racks of secondhand clothing that looked too rundown even for me to consider buying. Toward the back of the store, there were several odds and ends of various furniture, everything from couches to desks to decorative portraits. All of it looked decrepit and on the verge of falling to pieces.

But it wasn’t long before I found an old oak dresser that looked like it would hold together on the drive home. It was also small enough to fit in the backseat of my car. I opened the top drawer and was pleased to find that it was spacious enough for my purposes. When I saw that the price tag listed the dresser as going for ten dollars, I made up my mind.

I went over to the cashier, an elderly gray-haired woman with thick glasses, and told her I wanted the dresser. She asked me if I needed any help carrying it out to my car, and I assured her that I didn’t. After I paid for the dresser, I hauled it over to my car with only some slight difficulty and jammed it into the backseat.

I then made a quick detour into a liquor store to pick up that six-pack I had been considering before continuing home.

I lived in a townhouse I shared with three young women. The three girls had been splitting the rent with a fourth girl who had lost her job and quickly moved out, leaving the remaining three roommates desperate to find anyone to help them make their monthly payment. They had put up an ad online and I had responded to it. The three girls had grilled me extensively when I showed up to look the place over. There was Becky, the redheaded assistant manager at a local convenience store. Ashley the beautician who hated men. And Emma the medical assistant who owned three cats. It was clear that they didn’t like me from the moment I met them, but they were desperate to find a roommate and I was desperate to find a room, so we all ended up living together in a situation that seemed like a setup for an unimaginative sitcom.

I parked in the underground garage and decided to take the six-pack up to my room before hauling the dresser up the stairs. The stairs from the garage led up into the kitchen, where I ran into Ashley, who was grabbing a diet soda from the fridge. She was a gorgeous girl with long, silky black hair and big boobs who wore heavy makeup that made her look like a high-priced hooker. She was dressed in a short, tight-fitting dark blue dress that showed off her voluptuous curves and a pair of flip-flops that put her carefully polished pink toenails on display. They matched the acrylic nails on her fingers.

“Hey, Ashley,” I said. “How are you doing?”

The expression on her face soured like she had just stepped in dog shit.

“Hey,” she said tersely before turning around sharply and walking out of the room.

That was about the extent of my relationship with Ashley. The handful of conversations we had shared since I had moved in had all gone along those same lines. It was easy to dismiss her treatment of me as an expression of her hatred for men generally, but somehow it felt more personal than that. What could I have done to earn her ire? Maybe she knew that I sometimes fantasized about her when I masturbated. Was I giving off some sort of tell?

I continued up the stairs to the second floor. My room was right beside the stairwell. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I had been given the largest room in the townhouse so that there would be justification for charging me the largest percentage of the rent. I didn’t mind too much. I could afford it and it meant that I got the bedroom with an attached bathroom. That was convenient. I also had a small balcony, which was another bonus. Unfortunately, every window in my room looked out at the apartment building next door. The unit directly across from us was shared by a group of guys and if I didn’t keep the curtains closed, we would end up staring awkwardly at one another across the alleyway. Because I was the only guy in the townhouse, the girls thought it was fine if a group of men could peak into my bedroom at all hours of the day.

I placed the six-pack on the desk beside my bed and then made my way back down to my car in the garage to get the dresser. Slowly, I hauled the dresser up the stairs and managed to get it into my room. I placed it against a wall beside my desk, opened up a bottle of beer, and took a swig. The cool taste of beer was refreshing.

I took a seat in the chair beside my desk, turned on the television in my room, and tuned in to a baseball game. It was by far the highlight of my day.

After I was three beers into the six-pack, there was a knock on my door. Before I could answer it, Emma burst in and asked, “Did you let one of the cats out when you came in? I can’t find Buster anywhere.”

Emma was a petite girl who stood about five feet, three inches tall. She was cute. I think that if she were in porn, she would have been described as a spinner. She was also deeply neurotic and annoying.

“Fuck, Emma,” I cried. “Can you knock? I could have been in here jerking off.”

“Eww,” Emma exclaimed. “Gross. I don’t need to hear about that shit, you fucking pervert. Have you seen Buster?”

“Is Buster the orange one?”

“He’s the tabby. I’ve been looking for him everywhere since I got home.”

“No, I haven’t seen him. But I’ll make sure to form a search party.”

Emma scowled at me. “Asshole.”

After she walked out of my room, I closed the door.

I felt like the unluckiest man in the world. I was sharing a home with three catty women who made my life miserable. And I wasn’t even sleeping with any of them.

Chapter Two

I continued working on the six-pack and was happy to slip away into drunkenness. Then I remembered that I had to put my clothes away in the dresser.

I opened the top drawer and shoved several shirts inside. When I tried to open the second drawer, it only came out halfway and I swore. Perfect. I had bought a broken dresser.

I looked the drawer over and saw that something was wedged into the slide mounted along the inside frame. I pried the object loose with my finger and a metal object popped out and dropped onto the floor.

I stared at a ring made of a dull gray metal. There appeared to be a turquoise stone set into the head of the ring. For a moment, I thought I had stumbled onto a priceless treasure carelessly lost in an otherwise worthless piece of junk furniture. I had heard stories of things like that happening to other people. Maybe I had suddenly become a millionaire. The fact that I was drunk only enabled my wishful thinking.

I reached down and picked up the ring. It was surprisingly heavy for something so small. Curious to see if it would fit, I slid the ring over the middle finger on my right hand.

There was a burst of heavy acrid black smoke all around me. In a drunken panic, I thought something had exploded or caught fire. I prepared to run down the stairs and out onto the street when the smoke quickly dissipated.

I coughed hard a few times as the smoke cleared and gasped when I saw a middle-aged silver-haired man standing in front of me wearing a dark navy-blue three-piece suit and matching fedora.

I grabbed one of the empty beer bottles off the floor and raised it over my head, threatening to bring it down on the mysterious stranger.

“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded.

The man straightened out his collar and said, “Thanks for letting me out. I was in there for a while. You can call me Mort. I’m a djinn. And you must be my new master.”

“Djinn? Like a genie?”

“That’s what some call me.”

I brandished the beer bottle and said, “You better start making some sense, man, or I’m going to smash this against your head.”

“Take it easy, buddy.”

The stranger who called himself Mort pointed a finger at the beer bottle I was threatening him with. An instant later, I found myself holding a flower in my hand. A tulip, to be exact.

I lowered my hand and stared at the flower. I looked down at the floor to make sure the other empty beer bottles were still there.

That’s when I realized what was happening. I was having some sort of psychotic break from reality.

“I drank myself into insanity,” I said.

Mort smiled.

“You mortals always feel that way when I first show up. But take my word for it, kid. I’m the real deal. You make a wish, I grant it, the world keeps turning. That’s how it works.”

“Sure,” I said. “If you’re really a genie, why are you dressed like that? Shouldn’t you be wearing a vest and a turban and a gold earring or something? I mean, you’re supposed to be green or blue and made of smoke. You don’t look like any genie I ever heard about.”

“My people, we’re shapeshifters. I could look like that if I wanted to. I can look like anything I want to look like. But this was the height of fashion when I came out of that ring a few decades back, and I like it. So here I am.”

“And I suppose ‘Mort’ is what your mother and father wrote on your birth certificate.”

“It’s a handle I picked up way back. My actual name can’t be pronounced in your language.”

I had never experienced a delusion or hallucination before, so I wasn’t sure how to react. I decided to treat what was happening like some sort of weird dream and go along with it.

“Okay,” I relented. “The best way to lay this thing to rest is by making a wish. If you make it come true, then I know you’re not full of shit. But if you don’t, I go back to trying to bash a bottle of beer over your head. You can turn them all into flowers if you want, then at least I’ll have a bouquet.”

Mort laughed. “Okay, go ahead kid, lay it on me.”

“Give me a minute, Mort. My reasoning capacity isn’t at its best after I’ve drunk myself into a stupor. I need to figure out my heart’s desire.”

“Take your time, kid. I’m immortal. I’ve got an eternity.”

I turned off the television in a futile attempt to focus. This was my delusion and I wanted to make the most of it.

My first thought was to wish for money. Money didn’t solve every problem, of course, the number of rich people who committed suicide was proof of that. But at least money usually made a lot of things easier. But I didn’t want to waste my first wish on something so prosaic. If this guy was a genie, I was entitled to three wishes. Money seemed more appropriate for a second wish, something pragmatic but dull. For my first wish, I wanted something fun and exciting, something you couldn’t get with all the money in the world.

My next thought was to wish for a hot girlfriend, but I reasoned that I could probably get several of those once I had money. And besides, I was so terrible with people that a supermodel girlfriend would probably cause me more of a headache than she was worth.

I racked my mind. No, if I was going to wish for something, it had to be something I had always wanted but never thought I could have. Something I could only have in my wildest dreams.

Then my drunken mind came up with something so ridiculously insane that I refuse to believe it would have occurred to me had I been sober.

Throughout my life I had always had a lot of far out sexual fantasies that I’d never discussed with anyone. I would go to my grave keeping those fantasies a secret. And there was one fantasy in particular that I had always clung to, a recurring trope in the catalog of my masturbatory repertoire. It seemed too strange, honestly, but given that I didn’t really believe any of this nonsense was actually happening, it seemed oddly appropriate. I was in the middle of a mental breakdown and, hopefully, I would come out of it the next day none the worse for wear. In the meanwhile, I should indulge my craziest fantasies while I could. The fact that I’m both rash and impulsive when I’m drunk settled the matter.

I turned to Mort and said, “Okay, here it is. I’ve always fantasized about being a beautiful girl. They get the better end of the deal. Women only need to sit there and look pretty while men line up to offer them anything they want. It’s an easy life, whatever their heart’s desire, some guy is out there ready to provide it. Now that’s my wish. I wish I were a beautiful girl. Make me into a beautiful girl.”

If Mort thought there was anything odd about my wish, he didn’t let on. His expression was placid, almost disinterested.

“Now before I grant your wish, are you sure that’s what you want?”

I shrugged.

“I know it’s a little weird, but if I’m going to get my deepest, darkest wish granted, then it’s going to be a deep, dark wish.”

Mort’s question did lead me to second guess myself, but I figured I would just use my second wish to turn back into a man. Then I would still have my third wish for money. Anyway, when I settle on doing something crazy, I commit to it all the way.

Mort waved his hand dismissively.

“Kid, that’s hardly a weird wish. You’re not even the first to make it. Honestly, it’s kind of mundane. I’ve heard stuff that was really off the wall. I’m just making sure it’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want.”

Mort nodded.

I was enveloped in another burst of black smoke. I coughed hard. For a moment, I thought my lungs were going to leap out of my throat. But, just as it had before, the smoke quickly dissipated.

When the smoke cleared, I saw Mort standing in front of me with the same placid expression he had worn only a moment before. But I immediately noticed something was different.

When Mort had first appeared, we had met eye-to-eye because we had been roughly the same height. Now I had to look up at his face because my gaze fell at the level of his chest. Either he had gotten taller, or I had gotten shorter.

The second thing I noticed was that I felt lighter. When I had hit puberty as a teenager, I had lost a lot of weight and it had made a big difference in how I felt and how I carried myself. The feeling I now had was similar. But my experience losing weight as a teenager had occurred over several months. The change I now experienced was more intense because I lost the weight in an instant.

Despite feeling lighter overall, I felt a heavy, unfamiliar weight on my chest and around my butt that had not been there before.

The last change I immediately noticed was that I was wearing footwear that had my feet positioned at a steep angle. I felt like I was standing on my tiptoes.

I looked down and was stunned. The blue button-down shirt I had been wearing had been replaced by a teal blouse and there were two massive, perfectly rounded breasts protruding from my chest. The fabric of the blouse was stretched tight over my new breasts. The blouse’s neckline was low enough to display a hint of cleavage. I could feel something tight underneath my blouse exerting pressure on my breasts, pushing them up and together. That could only be a bra.

I bent my head forward a little further so I could look past my breasts. I saw that the khaki pants I had been wearing had been replaced by a black skirt that came down about mid-thigh. Beyond the edge of the skirt I was now wearing, I saw two smooth legs that led down to a pair of black pumps.

I raised my head back up and stretched my hands out in front of my face. They were smaller now and decorated with fingernails that were colored a dark red.

I grabbed my big breasts with my dainty hands. They were way too big to fit in my palms. I gave my breasts a light squeeze and practically jumped at the alien sensation.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. This is real.”

Those were the first words I spoke after making my wish and I was shocked to hear what my voice sounded like. It was so high-pitched. I thought I sounded like a cartoon character.

“Of course it’s real,” Mort said. “I’m as good as my word.”

I felt something soft tickle my neck and I automatically reached my hand up to grab whatever it was. My hand grasped several silky strands of hair. I ran my fingers through the hair and felt it stretching all the way down past my shoulders. I raised the strands up in front of my face and marveled at their length.

I took a step toward the bathroom and almost tripped trying to walk in the high-heeled shoes I was now wearing. I kicked off the shoes. My eyes widened when I saw the length of the heels on the shoes. They must have been two or three inches long. I walked to the bathroom in my bare feet and realized how much shorter I was without the pumps.

As I made my way to the bathroom, I noticed a couple of new sensations.

I could feel my breasts bounce with every step I took. As a man, from time to time, I would feel my pectoral muscles bounce a little when I jumped or took an unusually large step. The feeling I felt now was a little like that, but much more intense. It felt as if my breasts were dribbling like a pair of basketballs on my chest. Each bounce pulled uncomfortably on muscles in my shoulders, neck, and back. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

The other new sensation I felt as I walked toward the bathroom was, in fact, an absence of sensation. For my entire life up until this point, I had a penis and a pair of testicles dangling between my legs. And all that time I had taken the feeling of my genitals bouncing around between my legs and rubbing against my inner thighs as an inescapable fact of life. But now that the familiar feeling was gone, it occurred to me that I had simply grown to subconsciously ignore the discomfort that accompanies male reproductive organs. For the first time in my life, I recognized just how unpleasant it felt to have my genitals squeezed together between my legs. I can attest to that because with my male genitalia gone, I was more comfortable. All I could feel down there now was a soft fabric pressed up against my tender flesh. It was like I had spent my entire life with a thick rope wrapped around my neck, scratching and chafing me, and now I had finally cut off the rope.

As I stepped into the bathroom, I turned the light on. There was a full-length mirror hanging on one wall of the bathroom. My jaw dropped as I stepped in front of the mirror and saw my reflection.

I was stunning. When I looked at my face in the mirror, I could see that there was a strong resemblance in most of my features to the man that I had been. My nose was a little smaller, my lips a little thicker, and my eyes slightly more elongated, but my new face basically looked like a more feminine version of what it had been before. It was also apparent that I was now wearing some make up. Lipstick, mascara, and eyeshadow to be precise. My eyes were still the same shade of light brown they had always been, and my skin complexion was the same light caramel color that it had been before. They went nicely with my long black hair, which had a slight bounce to it that gave it volume. I ran my hands through my hair and noticed how much thicker it was now than when I had been a man. I liked the silky feel of it against my fingers.

But it was what I looked like below the neckline that really blew me away.

My arms and legs were slim with delicate hands and feet. I wiggled my tiny fingers and toes, intrigued by how fragile they looked.

My hips were pleasantly curvy, but not overly thick.

I turned slightly to the side to be greeted by the sight of a pert little round behind.

My stomach looked flat without any excess fat.

And, of course, there were my massive breasts. It was difficult to tell exactly how large they were because I had to consider the fact that I was now much smaller than I had been as a man.

I looked over to the shower stall and noticed that the showerhead, which had been just an inch or so above my head as a man, was now nearly out of reach. I estimated that I was now roughly five feet tall.

If my estimate was accurate, then maybe my new breasts weren’t as big as they looked. Maybe my new petite frame was so small it made what would be ordinary breasts on any other woman look large on me. In any event, I was now at least as much a “spinner” as Emma.

Although I was impressed by their apparent size, what I admired most about my breasts was how round and firm they were. In fact, I became a little suspicious. One didn’t normally see breasts like that on a woman unless she had paid a highly skilled surgeon to install them. Curious, I grabbed my breasts and squeezed. I was again surprised by how sensitive they were and enjoyed the pleasant tingles that emanated from my breasts as I touched them. But try as I might, I wasn’t able to find any sign of implants.

They were the genuine article.

That was when I noticed that other things had changed aside from my body. The bathroom counter, for example, had only moments before been practically empty except for a soap dispenser, my toothbrush and toothpaste, a canister of shaving cream, and my razor. Now it was littered with moisturizing creams, hairbrushes, cosmetics, a couple of bras, and various other products only a woman would use.

I walked back out of the bathroom and reexamined my bedroom. Sure enough, it too had changed in unusual ways.

My bed frame had been a very simple wooden design and my bed sheets and pillowcases had been gray with a dark blue comforter thrown over them. The bed frame was now an ornate white metal work, and the mattress was decked out with a pink bed sheet and matching pillowcases covered by a white comforter.

The desk on which I placed my computer had been an ugly but functional dark brown stainless-steel thing, now it was a white hardwood executive desk with a lovely vase full of flowers positioned at one end. The computer itself was a light pink color rather than the basic black or silver that was my usual choice for electronics.

There was also a credenza beside my new desk, the top of which was lined with cute stuffed animals and other assorted decorative items, like a tape dispenser shaped like a high-heeled shoe and a ceramic clock shaped like a heart and emblazoned with a romantic poem. The shelves of the credenza were packed tight with books.

Curious, I stooped down and pulled out one of the books. The cover had the image of a handsome, muscular man in a military uniform holding a woman in his arms and bending her backward as he leaned in to plant a kiss on her lips. The title was All’s Fair in Love and War. It was clearly a trashy romance novel. A quick glance at the other book covers showed me that they were all along the same vein.

“Quite an interesting taste in literature,” Mort said from behind me.

I yelped involuntarily as the book fell from my hands onto the floor. Amid exploring all the changes, I had completely forgotten about Mort.

“You weren’t kidding,” I conceded. “But what gives? I wished for you to turn me into a girl, I didn’t say anything about redecorating.”

Mort cocked his head to the side and shrugged.

“The mechanics of wishes can be a little tricky. If someone wishes for something small, I can make that happen without much trouble. But some wishes are more complicated. They lead to all sorts of unanticipated consequences. I mean, I could have turned you into some random woman, I guess, a woman with no identity, no past, no life before the wish. But I’ve found that my previous masters weren’t too appreciative of the sort of problems they faced when I did that sort of thing with them. One time, this fellow, a janitor from Newark, he wished that he were Elvis. I turned him into an exact duplicate of Elvis. Of course, no one believed he was Elvis because the real Elvis was long dead by that time. Looking back on it, I think it would have been better if I had made it so he had been born as Elvis and lived his life from start to finish that way. This guy had to settle for what I gave him and ended up becoming a successful Elvis impersonator, so it wasn’t all bad.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” I admitted.

“Okay, well, what I did in your case is I made it so that, rather than becoming some random gorgeous broad and having to explain who you were and where you came from to everyone, I made it so that you were born female. Rather than just turning into some girl, you’re now living the life you would have lived if you had been born a girl. You understand?”

Before I could respond, I heard a loud banging on my bedroom door.

“Kelly, do you have my curling iron?” Becky shouted from outside the door.

My heart began pounding as I raced toward the door to keep it shut. I was in no condition to deal with any of the girls right now. As I dashed toward the door, I wondered who Kelly was.

Chapter Three

Before I could reach the door, the doorknob twisted and Becky stepped inside.

I was floored by her massive size. Becky was roughly five feet, eight inches tall, easily the tallest of the girls I was living with. But as a man I had still stood over her. Now, in my new feminine form, she towered over me. She was a giant and I was a pygmy.

I stood before her in stunned silence with no idea how I was going to explain what had happened to me.

“Hey, Kelly,” Becky said. “Do you have my curling iron?”

Kelly. I was Kelly. She was referring to me.

Without waiting for a reply, she marched over to my bathroom and perused the counter for a moment before grabbing a curling iron from the pile of junk there.

“Here it is,” Becky said raising the curling iron triumphantly in the air. “I want to make sure I have it before we go out tomorrow night.”

She looked at the expression on my face and stopped in her tracks.

“Are you okay, honey?” Becky asked.

“Uh…yeah,” I said in my new falsetto.

“Sorry about barging in, I didn’t think you were in here. You didn’t respond when I called you. You seem a little off, girl. Did I catch you in the middle of something?”

She eyed an empty wine glass that stood on top of the credenza beside an equally empty bottle of wine. I looked around and realized that the six-pack and empty bottles of beer had disappeared. Had they transformed into the bottle and wine glass?

“No. I was…you caught me off guard. That’s all.”

Becky nodded.

“All right. Anyway, try to get home early from work tomorrow. We’re going to pre-game in the living room before we go and do our whole girls’ night out.”

“For sure,” I said.

Becky smiled.

“Okay, see you.”

I sighed with relief and closed the door after Becky left.

Then I turned my head back and forth searching the room frantically. Where was Mort?

There was another burst of black smoke and Mort reappeared next to my desk.

“You,” I said accusingly. “That was you. You did something to Becky to make her think this is all perfectly normal.”

Mort rolled his eyes at me.

“You don’t catch on too quickly, sweetheart. I just finished explaining it to you. This is normal to everyone in the world except you. You were born a girl, and that’s the only way anyone has ever known you, as a girl. The only person who doesn’t think this is the way it always was is you. You get what I’m saying?”

It was a lot to take in all at once. If I understood Mort correctly, then my wish had completely changed the world around me. No one remembered a tall, good-looking guy named David, they only knew a cute, petite girl named Kelly. That meant any additional wishes I made could potentially alter reality in the same way. And I had no way of knowing how all those alterations, big and small, could add up. For all I knew, a simple wish could alter the course of human history in some bizarre, far-reaching way.

I was way too drunk from the beer to deal with the implications of the power I now wielded. I looked back to the empty wine bottle on the credenza. Was I drunk from the beer that no longer existed in this new reality? Or was I now drunk off the wine that did exist in this reality?

I shook my head in frustration. I was too wasted to get lost in these abstract metaphysical ponderings.

“Where did you go just now when Becky came into the room?” I asked Mort.

“That’s also a little hard to explain. See, my people, we live on another plane of existence. That’s actually where I am right now. What you’re looking at, this is an astral projection of sorts. All I did was make it invisible to her. But a part of me is always here. On this plane of existence, my astral form goes wherever the ring goes.”

He pointed to the ring I still wore on my finger.

I was starting to develop a headache from trying to understand the mechanics of it all.

“The point is that Becky and I couldn’t see you. Can you do that again for now? I’ve got a lot to think over and I want to be alone right now.”

“Sure,” Mort said before disappearing in another puff of black smoke.

I sighed. Then I looked around the room again to take stock of my situation. The ring was still on my finger. And the dresser I had bought at the thrift store was also still exactly where it had been before Mort had materialized out of thin air. Everything else appeared to have changed at least a little.

I suddenly thought of something. I searched my blouse and the skirt I was wearing for any pockets but found none. I usually carried my phone, keys, and wallet with me wherever I went and kept them in my pockets. Was that still my habit now? How could it be when I no longer had pockets?

Then I had a flash of insight. I walked over to my desk and opened the top drawer. That’s usually where I placed my wallet and keys as soon as I got home. But there was nothing in there now. Instead, I noticed a black leather purse sitting beside my computer.

I grabbed the purse and opened it. That’s where I found my phone, keys, and a small carrying case that held some cash, credit cards, and my driver’s license. I eagerly pulled out the driver’s license and examined it. Sure enough, my name was now Kelly Rodriguez instead of David Rodriguez. The license also stated that I had the same birth date but now listed my height as five feet tall and my weight as one hundred and three pounds. No wonder I felt so much lighter, I was a foot shorter and weighed almost one hundred pounds less. And, of course, the driver’s license identified my sex as female rather than male. I looked at the photograph on the license. Despite the terrible lighting and poor angle that were typical of DMV photos, I still looked attractive in the picture, probably because I was wearing heavy makeup and smiling broadly.

I looked through the rest of my purse and found some makeup accessories, breath mints, and half-a-dozen condoms. That last item was somewhat surprising. As a male, I had been a virgin. Was I still one now as a woman? That was something I preferred not to think about at the moment.

I put everything back in the purse.

Then an idea crept into my head.

I stepped over to the nearest window, pulled aside one of the closed curtains, and took a peak outside. Sure enough, through the windows of the apartment next door, I could see two guys sitting in a living room watching television. The unit across the alleyway was still occupied by a group of guys. With that information confirmed, I made sure that the curtains on all the windows in my bedroom were closed and that there were no gaps through which anyone could catch a glimpse of me.

The sun was about to set and with the curtains closed it was getting very dim in my room, so I turned on the lights. Then I walked back into the bathroom where the light was already on and closed the door. Then, standing silently in front of the full-length mirror again, I took a deep breath and began to undress.

I started by unbuttoning my blouse and dropping it on the floor. I found that underneath it I was wearing a lacey black bra. My breasts looked like they were about to burst out of it. Never having removed a bra as a man, I struggled with how to remove one as a girl. It took some fumbling around, but I finally found the hooks in the back that kept it clasped together and was able to undo them. I tossed the bra to the ground beside my blouse.

The first thing I felt as soon as I removed the bra was a sense of relief. I had not realized how severely the bra had been restricting my breasts until I took it off. The pressure that had been holding down my breasts and keeping them immobilized disappeared and I immediately felt more comfortable.

I stared at my breasts with a sense of disbelief. Breasts? That’s not how I usually thought of them. Boobs. Tits. Hooters. Now that I had a pair of my own, referring to them by anything other than the most clinical term for them did not come as easily. But whatever I called them, they were massive, firm, and perfectly round. They also seemed immune to gravity.

I cupped them in my hands and enjoyed the pleasurable sensation of rubbing them. The contrast between my big boobs and my small, delicate hands only made them look larger in comparison. I felt a gross sense of injustice over the fact that the first pair of boobs I was getting to fondle were my own.

I stooped down and picked my bra off the floor. I examined it carefully until I found the tag that listed the size. 32DD. Wow. It was no optical illusion. My tits were huge.

I had only been a girl for a few minutes, but already I was beginning to miss my lost height. I may not have had a lot going for me as a man, but I always saw my height as compensating for a lot of my other shortcomings. When you’re tall, people respect you more. They look up to you figuratively and literally. People don’t respect short men and they tend to treat diminutive women as toys or playthings. That was not a reassuring thought.

But at least if I was a small girl, I made up for it with my chest size. I had always gotten the impression that breast size was to women what height was for men. If I had lost one perk, I had gained another.

I threw my bra back on the floor and proceeded to try and remove my skirt. I struggled with that, too, until I found the zipper than ran down the back over my curvy butt. I yanked it down and then pulled off the skirt. Underneath, I was wearing a pair of lacey black panties that matched the bra I had worn.

Now was the moment of truth. I felt extremely reluctant to continue. A part of me wanted to call out to Mort and ask to be turned back into a man right then and there. But, like I said, when I commit to a crazy idea, I tend to commit to it all the way.

I pulled my panties down my ankles, stepped out of them, and tossed them on the ground.

I looked into the mirror expecting to see a light growth of dark pubic hair between my legs, but the area was clean shaven. That made me wonder. Did Kelly shave down there because she routinely expected to put her goods on display? If so, to whom?

I bent my head down to look at my new vagina. But I couldn’t. I learned right then and there that it’s difficult for a girl to get a good view of her vagina. Considering that this was the first vagina I had ever seen up close and personal, that was a disappointing discovery.

In the mirror, my pussy looked unassuming. It was just a little fleshy mound with puckered lips. I took one of my fingers and ran it over those lips. I was unnerved by the intensity of the sensations that emanated from my vaginal lips and shot up into my groin. They were even more sensitive than my penis had been. I was way too overwhelmed to experiment with my vagina any further.

I stared at myself in the mirror for several minutes. No matter how long I looked, I still couldn’t believe that I was the sexy girl staring back at me.

Chapter Four

I wasn’t in the mood to spend the rest of the evening fondling my strange new body. As fun as it was to explore it, I figured I wouldn’t be able to put up with the weirdness of it all. I would probably wish for Mort to make me normal again before I went to bed. But I wanted to make the most of the time I had in this body.

In my fantasies of being a woman, I had usually imagined myself making love to a man. I had never thought it made me gay or otherwise reflected on my sexual orientation. After all, I had never been physically attracted to men and I spent most of my time pursuing women, albeit unsuccessfully. But the idea of making love to a man as a woman had stimulated me. I always thought it was because the idea was taboo, something forbidden not only by society’s mores but by the biological limitations nature had imposed on us as humans. In any event, I wasn’t about to fulfill that particular aspect of my fantasy.

There was another aspect of my fantasy that excited me. That was the idea of being a beautiful woman out in public, walking among crowds with their eyes fixed on me, admiring my beauty. That part of the fantasy was easier to explain. As a man, people rarely showed interest in me for any reason. I was practically invisible. In contrast, the idea of people looking at me and instantly wanting me, seeking out my attention even if only for a moment, that seemed very appealing. As the result of this incredible turn of events, I was now free to pursue that aspect of my fantasy.

I decided to go out somewhere and walk around just to see what it was like out there in the world for a girl.

I grabbed the towel off the rack beside the shower stall and wrapped it around my body. Then I gingerly stepped out of the bathroom and made my way toward the old dresser that, as David, I had used to store my underwear. Sure enough, I found that Kelly also kept her underwear in it.

I grabbed a pair of cotton panties and some low-cut socks. I saw some bras in the drawer as well but ignored them. My boobs felt way more comfortable without a bra.

Then I opened another drawer and found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

I slipped on the panties and t-shirt, then pulled the jeans on over my legs. The panties were comfortable, but the t-shirt and jeans fit very differently on my new figure than a similar ensemble would have fit on me as a man. Both the t-shirt and the jeans were tight-fitting and put my new feminine figure on display. Regardless, I thought they would be more practical than a skirt and a halter top or something.

I put on the socks and then walked over to the modestly sized walk-in closet to find a pair of shoes more appropriate than pumps.

When I opened the closet door, I was flabbergasted. As David, I had kept some shirts and slacks and three pairs of shoes in the closet. But as Kelly, the closet was filled to the brim with all manner of dresses, blouses, skirts, and other fashion accessories along with literally dozens of different shoes. Just looking at it all made my head spin.

I saw a pair of pink canvas shoes, thought they looked comfortable, and grabbed them. After putting on the shoes, I grabbed my purse, walked out of my bedroom, closed the door behind me, and made my way downstairs.

As I made my way down the stairs, my big boobs bounced around on my chest. Yikes. That was not comfortable. I thought about going back for a bra but decided I’d rather put up with the bouncing than shackle them up in something that felt like a straitjacket. But I figured I would probably have Mort turn me back into a guy when I got back just because I couldn’t put up with carrying small boulders on my chest everywhere I went.

In the kitchen, I ran into Ashley again. She was cooking something for herself on the stove. Although she was not as tall as Becky, I was uncomfortable with the fact that she was now also taller than me.

Ashley shot me a wide, toothy grin and said, “Where are you off to, babe?”

Up until that moment, I had never seen Ashley smile. I hadn’t thought she was physically capable of smiling.

“Uh, I’m going to go out to do some shopping.”

“Cool. If you get back fast, I can do your nails up for tomorrow night. There may not be enough time to do them tomorrow before we go out.”

“Okay.”

“Take it easy, bitch. I love ya.”

That was a weird experience. A girl who had treated me like crap every day that I had known her was suddenly treating me like her best friend.

I made my way down to the garage and was pleased to see that I still had the same car. At least at first glance. I looked it over to be sure. I found that I now had a license plate frame on the rear of the vehicle that said, “Out of the way, princess coming thru!” A bumper sticker read, “Back off, you can’t ride my ass unless you buy me a drink first!” And I was mortified to find another bumper sticker that brazenly read, “Whores spit, good girls swallow.”

I was beginning to think that there was more separating David Rodriguez from Kelly Rodriguez than their genitals. Who was this girl?

When I got into the driver’s seat of my car and put on my seatbelt, I found yet one more minor routine that was different in my new body. The over-the-shoulder seatbelt strap fit awkwardly over my chest as I pulled it down toward the buckle beside my waist. My boobs got in the way.

I opened the garage door and backed my car out. I wasn’t sure where I was going and spontaneously decided to head to the mall. I figured that was as good a place as any to experience what the world looked like to a girl.

Although I was still feeling a little tipsy because of the alcohol, the evening’s events had gone a long way toward sobering me up. But as I drove to the mall, I could feel my heart beating faster and harder. I had often fantasized about being a girl, and now that I was living out that fantasy, it felt intense. Even if all I was doing was taking a drive, going out in public as a girl felt like some unthinkable sin. A lot of people had some strange sexual fantasies, but very few of them lived out those fantasies in public as I was about to do.

I pulled into the parking lot at the mall. Being that it was a Thursday night and nearing closing time, the lot was practically deserted and there were plenty of spaces available. I parked directly in front of the main entrance. Then I took a deep breath and tried to build up the courage to fulfill my fantasy.

That was when I felt more new sensations stirring between my legs. I felt an unfamiliar warmth down there and, somewhere deep inside my groin, I could feel muscles I had never felt before tensing and tightening. There was the slightest tingling sensation around my vagina, similar in some ways to the sense of arousal I would feel stirring in my penis before getting an erection as a man, but it was different in a way I couldn’t describe. I then felt a similar tingling around the nipples of my breasts, which was unlike anything I had ever felt as a man.

I took a deep breath and cast aside my anxiety as I stepped out of my car and walked into the mall, my purse swinging gently from my shoulder.

There were only a few dozen people walking around the mall, quite a contrast to the crowds of hundreds that would fill the mall during the weekend. I was relieved by that and probably would not have come if I had thought it would be otherwise. Even with only a handful of people standing around, my heart was pounding in my chest, I was breathing rapidly, and I could feel a few beads of sweat building up on my forehead.

As I spent a few minutes strolling past the stores, I began to relax. I’m not sure what reaction I had been expecting, but people weren’t pointing and laughing at me or giving me stares of disgust. For the most part, people were minding their own business and paying me no attention. I did catch several men glancing at me as I walked past them. Some of them looked away when I met their gaze, a few smiled at me when I made eye contact, and one or two nodded at me in acknowledgement, seemingly inviting me to keep looking. For my part, I would turn away whenever I caught men staring at me. I had no interest in drawing their attention.

Then I noticed that something was different about the way I was scanning the small crowds in the mall. Usually whenever I went to any public place, my eyes would automatically search out attractive female figures. I would catch myself almost subconsciously glimpsing at the faces of pretty women, admiring their looks. And I would always take the opportunity to admire big breasts, round butts, long legs, and other desirable features.

Now, as a girl, I wasn’t doing any of that. I looked over at a pair of women in short skirts and crop tops walking past me. They were young with great figures. I knew that, yet I didn’t feel a desire to keep my eyes on them and savor their beauty. They were no more appealing to me than the decorative plants that lined the mall’s walkways.

Then I noticed that the way I was looking at men was different as well. After a few minutes of catching men glancing at me, I found myself being caught by men as I was glancing at them. As a woman, the act of looking men over was coming as naturally to me as checking out girls had come to me as a guy.

Was that what I was doing? Was I checking guys out?

I was. It took me a while to acknowledge it, but that’s exactly what I was doing. My eyes would drift over to masculine figures, automatically gaze at their chests and arms, and be drawn to the sight of muscles. As a woman, the sight of big, hard muscles was having an effect on me that was similar to the feeling I had gotten as a man when I looked at women’s breasts or butts.

I saw one man walking out of a gym dressed in shorts and a tank top with a duffel bag slung under his arm. He must have been a gym rat because my eyes were instantly drawn to his massive biceps and pectorals. His tight tank top put them on full display. Then I looked at his face. He had thick, dark-brown hair slicked back on his head, a jutting jaw covered in light stubble, and narrow emerald eyes. He was gorgeous.

He had probably just finished a workout at the gym. As I watched him walk toward the mall exit, I felt the warmth between my legs grow hotter and…moist.

That was when the gym rat noticed me staring at him. He looked right at me and gave me a wide smile, showing off perfectly white teeth.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he said.

His eyes instantly fell to my chest, and I saw his smile broaden.

I was embarrassed to be caught staring like that, even more embarrassed to realize I had gotten aroused staring at a man.

I turned my face away and increased my speed as I walked away from the man. After I had taken several steps, I dared to turn and take a quick glance over my shoulder. The gym rat was staring at my rear as he continued toward the mall exit, his grin making it clear that he was enjoying the view.

I looked away again and began walking even faster.

As I grappled with the reality that my wish to change my sex had also evidently changed my sexual orientation, I took a moment to reflect on the different physical mechanics that came with walking around in a woman’s body as opposed to a man’s.

I was more confident now than I had been before that female genitals as a whole are more comfortable than male genitals. Walking around was far more comfortable without my penis and scrotum jostling around, grinding against one another, bouncing around in my pants and being squeezed by the fabric that surrounded them. It was a relief not to feel a constant need to reach down and scratch my junk or adjust it. All I felt down there as a girl, at least when I wasn’t aroused, was the pleasant sensation of my cotton underwear cradling my vagina. My vaginal lips were tender, and I enjoyed the feel of the fabric against them. There was a constant mild warmth down there that increased from time to time in response to outside stimulation, but otherwise I felt nothing.

On the other hand, the feeling of my big boobs hanging from my chest and bouncing with every step I took was not a welcome sensation. As the minutes passed, the weight on my chest became more pronounced and I could feel my breasts pulling on the muscles around my shoulders and along my upper back. My breasts were heavy, and they were a hassle to carry around everywhere all the time. I had never had to put up with anything like that as a man.

It was too early to say which was worse, hauling my genitals around between my legs as a man or hauling around my big boobs as a woman. But already I was concerned about what it would be like when I transformed back into a man and had to go back to carrying my junk uncomfortably between my legs. I guess I would probably just get used to it again.

I had not yet eaten dinner and stopped at the food court to grab a hamburger from one of the various stands. The cashier who took my order, a bored-looking sandy-haired guy who was about my age, kept his eyes on my tits the entire time he was taking my order. I glared at him but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. I crossed my arms over my chest to obstruct his view. I sat down at one of the empty tables in the food court and ate my burger.

Afterward, I decided to go to one of the department stores at the mall and look at women’s clothing.

As I made my way there, a group of three teenage boys walking past me started laughing. I glanced up at them and noticed they were shooting looks at my chest. That hardly surprised me.

What did surprise me was when one of them looked over at me and asked, “You feeling cold, babe? Come over and I’ll warm you up.”

His friends broke out in wild laughter.

The bizarre exchange made me uncomfortable. I walked away quickly and went into the department store.

I wandered into the women’s department and found myself going through the lingerie section, taking the opportunity to look over all the various sexy and sultry undergarments I could never examine as a man. As I was staring at some bras, there were two-middle aged women standing near me looking at panties.

One of them leaned over to the other and whispered just loud enough for me to hear, “I hope she buys one of them. That girl could use some modesty.”

I glanced over at the two women, and they both pretended not to notice me.

For whatever reason, I was drawing unwanted attention and I decided it was time to leave. As I made my way toward the exit, I walked past a mirror hanging on a wall in the department store. I stopped and did a double-take at my reflection.

“Oh fuck,” I said as my eyes fell on my boobs.

My large nipples had swollen and were poking out from under my t-shirt. They were so prominent that anyone could see them clearly from across the room. The teenage boys and the two middle-aged women had most definitely noticed my nipples on full display. I crossed my arms over my chest and practically ran out of the mall.

Chapter Five

I was mortified as I got into my car and drove away. How long had my nipples been sticking out like that? As I drove home, I noticed that my nipples began to shrink back to a more dignified and acceptable size. I was horrified to think that staring at that guy walking out of the gym had probably caused my nipples to swell like that. As a man, I had to worry about the prospect of an ill-timed erection giving my thoughts and intentions away to perceptive observers. Now, as a woman, I had to worry that my nipples would give me away.

I drove over the speed limit all the way home and made it in record time. As I parked my car in the garage under the townhouse, I had every intention of running upstairs and calling on Mort to grant my second wish and turn me back into a man. Then I would wish to be a billionaire and figure things out from there. Fun was fun, but I didn’t want to risk any further humiliation by running around playing at being a girl.

But as I stepped out into the kitchen, I could hear the television on in the living room and stopped to see who was there.

I saw Ashley sitting on the couch in front of the television watching some show. I turned to keep walking up the stairs when Ashley said, “Kelly, is that you?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said sheepishly, not in the mood to talk to anyone after the fiasco at the mall.

“Oh good, you’re back. Come over and watch this with me. I’ll do your nails.”

I looked at my fingernails as I walked over toward Ashley. They were already painted red.

“That’s okay, Ashley. My nails are already done, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Don’t give me that shit, bitch. Come here and let me look at those talons.”

I wasn’t in the mood to hang out with Ashley or anyone else, but I wasn’t used to seeing her act so friendly and I didn’t want to be rude. I dutifully walked over to her and showed her my nails.

“Come on, Kelly, it’s been weeks since you did these. The polish is almost worn off. Sit down and I’ll fix you up.”

They looked perfectly fine to me, but I knew nothing about nail polish, and I didn’t think it would do me any harm to humor Ashley and let her work on my nails. I sat down on the couch and waited as Ashley gathered her cosmetic kit.

Ashley was watching a show called Starlets about three girls who moved to Hollywood together to become actresses. I had heard of it, and I knew it was popular with women, but I’d never watched the show before. It hardly seemed like the sort of thing that would hold my interest.

Ashley came back and began working on my nails as we watched the show.

“What did you go out and buy?” Ashley asked me.

“What? Oh, uh, I went out to buy some clothes, but I didn’t find anything I liked.”

“Clothes, huh? Looks like you should have picked yourself out a bra.”

Ashley giggled.

I could feel myself blushing and I automatically pulled one arm over my chest.

“Come on, babe, don’t bother with that. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” I said. “I felt so much more comfortable without a bra, and I didn’t think anyone would notice when I went out. But some people definitely noticed when I was at the mall. I felt like crawling under a rock.”

Ashley grinned as she continued working on my nails.

“Yeah, I’ve been there, girl. Sometimes you simply must let your girls hang free. But with boobs like yours, going out without a bra isn’t a great idea.”

“Tell me about it. How was your day, Ashley?”

“Pretty good. That girl Caroline at the salon finally quit. I dropped down to my knees and screamed hallelujah. I was so sick of that cunt and all her drama.”

Ashley went on to tell me about her goings on at work and all the crazy things she had to put up with from coworkers and clients alike. She had a great sense of humor and she made me laugh. She went on to tell me some stories about her childhood in Texas and her eccentric family members. Although her family sounded dysfunctional, I could tell from the way she talked about them that she missed them. I had never imagined this side of her. And it dawned on me that the only reason she was doing my nails was because she was lonely and looking for company. The woman I had dismissed for so long as a cold-hearted man-hating cunt was, in reality, a warm, caring person. I felt lucky to be friends with her.

Friends? That was a strange thought. As David, I had no friends. I had been Kelly for only a couple of hours and already she had more friends than David ever had.

After Ashley was done touching up my fingernails, she had me take off my shoes and socks and looked over my toenails, which were also colored red. After briefly inspecting my toenails, she was satisfied that they were still in good condition. Apparently, Kelly had done her toenails a few days before and they didn’t need touching up. I put my socks and shoes back on.

I stayed with Ashley to watch the remainder of Starlets. It was a typical melodrama. One of the girls was faced with the opportunity to get a role in a movie by sleeping with one of the filmmakers, another one of the main characters was struggling with a growing cocaine addiction, and the third girl suspected that her boyfriend was cheating on her and was trying to catch him in the act. Ordinarily, I would have been bored to tears by the plot, but for whatever reason, I found myself caught up in the lives of the fictional characters and their various problems. I found myself imagining myself in their shoes and wondering what I would do if faced with similar dilemmas. When the episode ended, I was curious to find out what would happen to the girls next.

I thanked Ashley for her help and said good night to her.

It had been the craziest night of my life and I was tired. All I wanted to do was sleep. I didn’t want to deal with Mort or with making anymore wishes. I decided I would put all that off until tomorrow. Probably I would call in sick to work, have Mort transform me back into my male self, and then figure out the best way to wish to be rich enough to never have to work another day in my life.

I wondered what my life as David would be like once I was rich. I had a lot going for me as a man, but none of it had helped me to achieve a life that made me happy. If anything, I was miserable as David. In the short time that I had been Kelly, it felt like she had something that David lacked, something more important than good looks or money. The dramatic difference between the way Ashley treated the one and the way she treated the other seemed poignant. There was something revealing there, and I was compelled to reflect on it further.

I decided that before I wished for Mort to transform me back into a man, I would go out with Ashley and the other girls. I wanted to experience what it was like to do something as simple as going out with friends to have fun. It seemed pathetic that such a common experience was so foreign to me. But it was more than just enjoying an opportunity to hang out with friends. I wanted to figure out what it was that Kelly had going for her that David didn’t. Maybe if I could figure out what that was, I could find a way to improve my life as David.

I walked into my room and removed my shoes and socks. I once again made sure that all the curtains were closed. Then I pulled off my t-shirt and took off my pants. I crawled into bed wearing only my cotton panties. As David, I had slept in my underwear, and I didn’t see any good reason to change that practice as Kelly.

I lay in bed with my eyes open staring at the ceiling for a long time. I had a lot on my mind. But eventually sleep found me and I slipped away into the darkness.

That night, I had the most vivid dreams I’ve ever experienced in my life.

I saw myself as Kelly, dressed in a cap and gown, sitting on a chair set up in a large, grassy field alongside hundreds of other young men and women who were wearing the same thing. It was commencement. I was graduating from college. I saw myself beaming with delight as I walked onto a stage to accept my degree.

Then I saw myself driving to the law firm where I now worked. I was there to interview for the job. I entered the office and sat in the waiting room until Mr. Baxter invited me into his office to speak with him. It was almost exactly as I remembered it except that I was Kelly instead of David, and rather than wearing the suit and tie I had worn to the interview, I was dressed in a black skirt and matching blazer. The interview went differently. Rather than being interrogated by Mr. Baxter about my education and limited work experience, we had a friendly chat, and I could tell he liked me right away. He hired me on the spot rather than making me wait a week the way he had when I was David.

Then I was working at the firm, but things were different. Instead of being introduced to Hunter and being assigned to share an office with him, I was escorted to a desk in an office I shared with Brooke. She smiled when we met and shook my hand. We went over the work I would be doing. She showed me how to organize the files, prepare documents for filing with the court, schedule appointments with clients, and manage Mr. Baxter’s calendar. I hadn’t been hired as a paralegal. I had been hired as Mr. Baxter’s secretary.

The days passed and I saw myself showing up to work every day in a skirt, blouse, and heels or a demure, professional-looking dress, always with my face caked in makeup. I met Hunter and Henry, the associate attorney Brooke was dating. They were both extremely friendly with me. All the men in the office were friendly with me, and I reciprocated the attitude. But as the weeks passed, Brooke’s behavior toward me changed. She became distant, almost hostile. She began to act toward me in the same way that Ashley had acted toward David. I couldn’t understand what I had done to upset her.

I saw myself answering the ad that Ashley, Becky, and Emma had put up online for a new roommate. I drove up to the townhouse and knocked on the door. I was greeted with a smile by Ashley and led into the living room. As David, my first meeting with the girls had lasted five minutes and it was clear I wasn’t their first choice for a roommate. But as Kelly, they invited me to move in after a few minutes of chatting with me and I spent another hour hanging out with them, laughing and sharing stories about myself.

Then I moved in and made myself comfortable in my new room. Becky, Emma, and Ashley helped me move in and took me shopping so I could decorate my new place. The girls took me out to a nightclub to celebrate, where we got drunk and danced with random guys until late into the morning.

Time passed and I saw scenes of myself watching television in the living room with the girls, throwing parties filled with scores of guests in the townhouse, and going out with them to do all sorts of fun activities. There were a lot of scenes of me and Ashley hanging out together, usually involving her helping me with my makeup or wardrobe.

And then I was flooded with scenes of myself as Kelly meeting guys at nightclubs, parties, coffee shops, supermarkets, public parks, basically anywhere and everywhere, even once at what appeared to be a renaissance fair. Then I saw myself alone in my room with a man, eagerly removing his shirt and pulling down his pants. Then I was sitting in a car with a different man in a parking lot somewhere late at night, his lips locked against mine, one of his hands reaching down my blouse, the other reaching up my skirt. And suddenly I saw myself in an unfamiliar bedroom, lying on my back completely naked, my knees bent, and my thighs spread apart as a tall, muscular naked man climbed on top of me, his massive erection stabbing out toward me excitedly. Scene after scene, each with a different man, began to bombard me. As David, I was a virgin and I had no firsthand experience with sex, but I had watched a lot of porn. The things I saw Kelly doing with those men ranked up there with some of the most hardcore videos I had ever seen.

Chapter Six

I woke with a start. My room was dark, and it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust. For just a second, I thought all of it had been some twisted nightmare: the ring, Mort, my wish, Kelly, all of it. But I felt my long hair tickling my shoulders and the heavy weight on my chest that was becoming increasingly familiar, and I knew that it was all real.

As my eyes continued to adjust to the darkness, I felt something wet underneath the blanket. I was worried that I had wet the bed. I reached down with my hand and felt around below my waist. I felt a heavy dampness between my legs. I groaned in shame. No, I had not lost control of my bladder. My sex-crazed dreams had made my womanhood moist, that was all.

I turned over to look at the alarm clock. It read 3:43 a.m. I lay in bed unable to return to sleep. After what felt like only an instant, I turned to look at the alarm clock again. Now it read 4:15 a.m.

Gradually, I felt a heavy pressure growing in my bladder. The equipment I had downstairs may have changed, but the urgent feeling of having to go to the bathroom was the same.

I sat up in bed, the jiggle of my breasts as I repositioned myself reminding me yet again that I was a woman. All the beer I had drunk a few hours before needed release. Or had it been wine? I still found myself puzzled by that trivial change from one reality to the other.

I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. I closed the door and turned on the light. Then I stood in front of the toilet awkwardly. I could no longer urinate standing up. This was going to be yet another new experience.

Any hesitation I may have felt about sitting down to pee was cast aside by the growing pressure in my bladder. I pulled my panties down around my ankles and took a seat. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was supposed to do next, but I instinctively relaxed certain muscles and felt the flow of water between my legs as I heard the familiar sound of urine dripping into a toilet bowl. After a few seconds, the flow of urine came to a stop. I stood and pulled up my panties then flushed the toilet.

As I walked toward the sink to wash my hands, I felt an unpleasant wetness in my panties. I stopped and pulled on the elastic band of my underwear to take a look at what had happened, even though I had already figured it out. Some of the urine had smeared along my vaginal lips and stained my underwear. I pulled off my panties and tossed them in a hamper. I would have to remember to dab myself with toilet paper the next time I had to take a tinkle unless I wanted to soil every pair of underwear I owned.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands. My hair was a mess, and the makeup I had worn to bed had smeared. No doubt some of that makeup had stained my pillowcase and bedsheet. As I looked more closely, the makeup had begun to flake and was peeling here and there. It no longer looked as flattering as it had before I went to bed.

I splashed water on my face and began to rinse off the makeup. I was surprised by how tenaciously the stuff clung to my face and by how difficult it was to wash off. As I kept trying to clean it off, I noticed a small plastic container amidst the pile of products on the bathroom counter. The words “makeup remover” were written across the container. I popped open the lid on top of the container and found that it was full of moist towelettes, similar in appearance to baby wipes. I grabbed one of the towelettes and rubbed it against my forehead. When I pulled the towelette away, it was caked with a thick layer of makeup and the part of my face that I had scrubbed with it looked much cleaner. Equipped with this new tool, I quickly wiped my face clean of makeup, tossing the towelettes in a waste basket beside the toilet.

My job done, I looked at my face in the mirror. I did not look as exotic or alluring without makeup, but I was pleased to see that as Kelly I had a natural beauty that didn’t need to be enhanced with cosmetics. I no longer looked like a fashion model without the stuff covering my face, but any man would like what he saw underneath even so.

I saw a pink satin bathrobe hanging from the bathroom door. I grabbed it and slipped it on. Even though I was alone, it felt strange to walk around naked in my new body.

I turned off the bathroom light and, without turning on the bedroom light, I walked over to my desk and sat in my chair. I didn’t feel like going back to sleep. In part it was due to the unnerving dreams I had experienced, but also it was because I no longer felt tired.

Eager for something to do to occupy my mind, I noticed my purse on the desk and reached inside to pull out my phone. I took a look at my text messages. My eyes widened. There were hundreds if not thousands of text messages from dozens of different people. Kelly obviously had a more active social life than David.

Many of the texts were from my roommates. Some of the rest came from other girls, although I had no idea who any of them were. But the bulk of the messages came from men.

I read through several of the text messages.

“Where u at bebe? U one fine azz ho!”

“Hope your keepin cool in this hot weather, Kelly. Maybe you n me can hook up again soon.”

“Don’t believe what they told you, I am not married.”

“It been too long girl.”

“My cock is soooooo hard for you Kelly!!!!!!!!”

“I miss you, love, sun always shines brighter when I’m with you.”

“Stop playing games and text me back.”

“I’ll be back in town next weekend in case you’re free.”

“I gotz to get me mo of you tight ass pussy!”

“I hope you change your mind because we had something special.”

Those texts raised a lot of concerns for me. I wanted some reassurance that Kelly had not slept with each of the guys who had messaged her. If that were the case, the number of sexual partners she had must have been in the hundreds. I didn’t want to believe that was the woman I had become.

My call history was more of the same, dozens and dozens of missed calls, a backlog of voicemail messages I dared not listen to.

Then I searched through Kelly’s photos. I was not at all surprised to find that she had thousands of selfies saved on her phone. I could not find one single image that didn’t have her in it. But many of those images included Kelly with other people, both men and women. Most of the photos looked platonic, but there were a few where she was kissing a man or being kissed by a man, usually on the cheek but in some cases on the lips. It was difficult to tell what those were all about.

I put the phone down. I was done learning about this girl.

I looked at the alarm clock. It now read 5:27 a.m.

It was part of my routine to go for a four-mile run each weekday morning. From her slim figure, I suspected this was also Kelly’s habit.

I turned on the bedroom light and walked over to the dresser drawer where, as David, I kept a pair of running shorts and some t-shirts. Sure enough, I found a pair of women’s running shorts, a sports bra, and several t-shirts. I even found the lanyard with the spare key that as David I carried around my neck so that I could lock and unlock the door to the townhouse when I went for a run. I was glad that at least Kelly and I had something in common.

I took off the robe and hung it on the chair beside my desk. Then I slipped on the shorts I had found.

As a man, I wore a pair of loose-fitting running shorts that came with a built-in netting to offer athletic support, which meant I didn’t have to wear underwear when I went for a run. It was more comfortable that way because it reduced chafing and overheating. Kelly wore a pair of tight-fitting spandex compression shorts which were also designed to be worn without underwear. They were so skimpy and revealing that I had second thoughts about going for a run. I took a long look at my crotch. The design of the shorts seemed to prevent unsightly camel toe. I wanted to make sure about that because I had suffered enough humiliation at the mall the night before. If the shorts didn’t flash my pussy to the world, I figured I could live with them.

I pulled the sports bra on over my head. I knew well enough that even small-breasted women needed the support when they went running. With my massive boobs, a good sports bra was essential.

It fit me strangely. It was extremely firm and rigid and felt less like a fabric than it did like a piece of thick leather or plastic. It was probably reinforced with some sort of mesh underneath the fabric. On the bright side, it held my breasts firmly immobilized. To test it out, I jumped up and down several times. I felt only the slightest jiggle. I found myself very impressed by the undergarment. My boobs felt like they were bolted in place, which was a welcome change of pace. I was tired of bouncing around everywhere.

I pulled on a t-shirt and went to the closet to hunt up a pair of running shoes.

As I stepped into the closet, I once again marveled at the sheer number of shoes Kelly had gathered there. It was amazing how much some women could value fashion accessories over money. There were several pairs of heels, boots, sandals, flip-flops, and other footwear. There were even some fluffy kitten-shaped slippers. It took me a while, but I found a pair of running shoes. They were light gray with a pink trim and from the look of the soles they had quite a decent amount of mileage on them. I pulled on a pair of socks I got from the dresser and slipped into the running shoes.

I walked over to the full-length mirror in the bathroom to look myself over. I made sure my nipples and vagina weren’t visible, although my shorts were so tight that the curves of my ass were on display for the whole world to see, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.

Then I noticed my hair cascading over my shoulders. It wouldn’t do to leave it like that. I couldn’t have my hair getting in my eyes or sticking to my face.

I searched the bathroom counter and found one of those little elastic hair ties that every woman seems to own. I had seen women use them a million times to put their hair up in ponytails. They were usually able to do it with a few rapid hand motions. It took me a while to figure it out, but I did finally get my hair into a ponytail.

I did some stretches then walked downstairs and out onto the sidewalk, locking the front door behind me. Then I began running up the street.

It was dawn and the first rays of sunlight were only beginning to break over the eastern horizon. The air was cool and refreshing. I sucked in one lungful after another of it. Now that I was smaller and weighed less, I moved much faster with greater ease. Although the added weight of my boobs and butt were still noticeable, the sports bra continued to keep my breasts from jostling around and, on balance, I felt lighter running as Kelly than I had running as David. The difference was very pronounced. It was like the difference between hauling a fifty-pound sack of flour over your shoulders and lifting a twelve ounce can of soda in your hand.

I also noticed that the way my body moved was different. My gait wasn’t as straight because my hips were wider and made my body twist slightly from side-to-side with each stride. My arms were also more inclined to swing inward toward my torso as I moved them back and forth. It had nothing to do with my form, a woman’s hips and shoulders were simply shaped differently. It didn’t make running itself more difficult, but maintaining the proper form wasn’t as easy.

After the first mile, it was clear to me that Kelly ran as much as I did, if not more. If I ever went more than a few months without exercising, the next time I would go for a run my body would struggle to get used to the exertion. From the way my body was responding to the physical strain of this run, it was clearly used to frequent aerobic exercise. I hadn’t felt this good running in a long time.

I ran past a man going for a jog in the opposite direction. He was probably ten or fifteen years older than me, with light brown hair and green eyes. He was handsome but had only a slight build.

He smiled as he ran past me and said, “Good morning!”

“Good morning!” I responded.

A few minutes later, two young women around my age came running down the sidewalk in skintight spandex shorts and matching sports bras. I admired their toned figures as I wished them a good morning and they returned the greeting.

I felt a little deflated by the fact that I had been more drawn to look at the older man who ran past me than I had been to check out the two girls. The female form just didn’t catch my attention the way a man’s figure did. I was intrigued to experience firsthand just how much our physical attraction is dictated by our body chemistry rather than our psychology. I didn’t think my sexual orientation had changed, but the body I was in now responded to very different physical cues than the one in which I had been born.

I turned around after two miles and made it home in record time.

When I stood on the stoop outside the front door of the townhouse, I felt amazing. Perhaps it was only the endorphin rush that always came after a good workout, but standing there stretching in the body of a sexy young woman, I appreciated the motivation behind my wish to be turned into a girl. Granted, I had been extremely drunk at the time, but this was the sort of feeling I had always tried to capture whenever I had fantasized about being a woman. I felt beautiful. And this gorgeous body I was in was all mine, free to do with as I pleased. Going out in public, showing myself off to the world, had been…arousing. I felt a tingling between my legs.

The feeling rushing through me in that moment was so uplifting that I considered making my second wish to be able to transform back and forth from David to Kelly at will. But because transforming from one to the other meant imposing drastic changes on the world around me, I would have to give that idea some serious thought before I went through with it. In fact, I was going to have to sit down and have a long talk with Mort before I made another wish. There were a lot of questions this whole wish-making business raised, and I wanted some answers.

That could wait until after I took a shower, though.

Chapter Seven

I made my way back upstairs to my bedroom and, making sure again that the curtains were closed, I removed my sweat-soaked clothes, undid my ponytail, and stripped naked. Then I hopped into the shower to clean up.

The plan was still to go out that night with the girls. I wanted to have some fun before I became a man again. The time I had spent with Ashley the night before had been the best part of becoming Kelly. I had been sorely lacking companionship as a man and hanging out with Ashley had shown me just how deprived I had been.

As I shampooed my hair, I reconsidered my plan to call in sick to work. I had enjoyed the thrill of going to the mall and going for a run as a girl, although the experience at the mall had ended on a sour note. It was fun to go out in public as a girl. And the intense dreams I had experienced the night before made me curious about how different things might be for me at work now that I was a girl. I decided to make the most of the situation and go into the office. If I became uncomfortable seeing my coworkers as a woman, I would leave. And what difference would it make? By this time tomorrow, I would be a man again and wealthy on top of that. I would never have to go to work again.

I noticed a pink razor in the soap dish. My legs looked smooth, but for the fun of it I took the razor and shaved them anyway. It was awkward bending over to reach distant parts of my ankles and thighs, but the tiny pieces of stubble I shaved off told me my legs weren’t as smooth as I may have thought. Shaving turned out to be harder than it looked, and I didn’t do a particularly good job, nicking myself several times. I ran a hand over my pubic area and giggled as I felt stubble there as thick as the stubble I usually found on my face each morning as David. I went ahead and ran the razor over my pubic area, too, mercifully doing a better job with that than I had with my legs.

I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. I dried myself with a towel but became frustrated when I tried to use the towel to dry my hair. Because it was longer and thicker, there was more water soaked into it. I stepped over to the counter and rummaged around until I found a hair dryer and comb. I hit my hair with the dryer at full blast and ran a comb through it as I did so. After a few minutes, my hair was finally dry.

I put on the satin bathrobe and went over to the closet to figure out what I should wear to work. I grabbed a red blouse and a pair of black slacks. I looked over the various shoes that filled the closet and dismissed all of the high heels out of hand. There was no way I was going to go anywhere in those. I found a pair of shoes that looked sort of like the pumps I had worn the day before except that the heel was no thicker than it would be on a man’s shoe, say maybe half-an-inch to an inch. Those would work.

I slipped on a pair of white bikini-cut panties and a matching bra that I took out from the dresser and got dressed. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought I looked appropriate for a day at the office.

My eyes fell on the turquoise ring I still wore on the middle finger of my right hand. I wanted to call out to Mort and talk to him, but I was worried that if I saw him right then, I’d immediately chicken out of my plan for the day and immediately wish to be turned back into a man. No, I decided against it. I’d be back to my old self soon enough, no need to rush things.

I grabbed my purse and went downstairs to the kitchen. Setting down my purse on the kitchen table, I toasted some frozen waffles and ate them with a freshly brewed cup of coffee before leaving for work.

“You have to be at work early or something?” Emma asked me as she walked into the kitchen wearing her dark blue scrubs for work.

“What?”

She pointed at my face and said, “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you go to work without putting on some makeup.”

I shrugged.

“I didn’t feel like putting any on this morning.”

That was true. But it was also true that I didn’t know anything about makeup. I suppose I could have managed to put on some lipstick, but anything more complicated than that was beyond my abilities.

“It’s a good look for you,” Emma said. “Ashley won’t let you go out tonight without covering your face in more makeup than a drag queen, though. You know how she is about that sort of thing.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine. I’ll put some on for tonight. Just kind of not in the mood for it right now.”

I finished my waffles and coffee and said goodbye to Emma.

The drive to work wasn’t any different than it was on any other day. Well, my seatbelt still fit awkwardly over my breasts, but that was about the only noticeable difference. The drive felt different, though, because it wasn’t every day I drove to work as a woman.

I made it to work right on time at 8:00 a.m. After parking my car, I went straight to the office I shared with Hunter. I was anxious about how he would treat me as Kelly. With the way he was about women, I was sure he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off me. That disgusted me but, as much as I hated to admit it…it also excited me. That was part of the reason I had come to work, for the titillation of being seen in public as a woman, even if it meant getting unwanted attention from undesirable people.

I stepped into the office and saw Hunter sitting at his desk, but to my surprise my desk was missing. He looked up at me as I stared absently at the empty space that had held my workstation.

“Good morning, Kelly,” he said with a grin. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

His eyes moved up and down my body, drinking in the view.

“Where’s my desk?” I asked.

He raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“In the office down the hall, last time I checked. Why? Are you thinking of moving in here to keep me company?”

His smile told me how much that idea appealed to him.

Brooke had the office down the hall. That made me remember the dream I had the night before, and I developed a hunch.

“I’ll get back to you about that.”

I began backing out of the room.

“Drop by any time, my door is always open to you,” Hunter said with a leer as I left his office and marched down the hall.

Brooke was sitting there behind her desk, typing on her computer, an empty desk that had not been there the day before next to hers.

“Good morning,” Brooke said to me icily without looking up from her screen.

“Good morning,” I said as I walked toward the empty desk. “How are you doing?”

“I was doing okay,” she answered with acid in her voice.

She said nothing as I sat down at the desk next to hers and placed my purse beside the computer. I turned on the computer and began looking through the files. A quick glance through the software installed on the machine showed me that it was typical of the sort of programs our office used for secretarial work.

To confirm my suspicion, I looked over at Brooke and said, “I’m going to print out a copy of Mr. Baxter’s calendar for today and leave it on his desk.”

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing the job you’re paid to do, Kelly.”

How was this possible? Those were no dreams I had experienced the night before. What were they then? Memories? Were they part of this new version of reality?

I was going to have a long chat with Mort. There was a lot more to making wishes than I had thought.

I knew something about the duties of the secretaries in our office. We had gone over their job duties during my orientation when I had started as David. And as a paralegal, I had worked alongside the secretaries extensively. On top of that, the dreams I had the night before had been so vivid and detailed that they served to reinforce what I already knew.

I printed out a copy of Mr. Baxter’s calendar for the day and took it over to his office. I found him behind his desk going over some papers. He looked up and smiled at me.

“Good morning, young lady,” he said. “Put a smile on your face. It’s Friday.”

I smiled sheepishly as I handed him the printout. He looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face.

“You look different today, Kelly. What is it? You do something with your hair?”

“Not as far as I know,” I answered honestly.

He snapped his fingers and pointed at my face.

“I know what it is. You’re not wearing makeup. Huh. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without makeup. It’s a good look for you, honey.”

“Thanks.”

“Do me a favor and grab me a cup of coffee, will you? I got a lot of work ahead of me today.”

I made my way to the office breakroom where we brewed the coffee. Mr. Baxter had never asked David to get him coffee, but in my dreams, it had been one of my many routine tasks as Kelly. I even knew exactly how he liked his coffee. In my dreams, I had always prepared it with two spoonsful of sugar and no creamer. He hated creamer.

I dropped the mug of coffee off on Mr. Baxter’s desk and went back to the office I shared with Brooke.

I spent the next couple of hours answering phone calls and working on organizing some of the case files. I also spent half-an-hour in Mr. Baxter’s office going over his calendar for the following week with him, taking note of appointments that had to be cancelled or rescheduled. I went over my emails, too, which were voluminous now that I was Mr. Baxter’s secretary. Anyone who wanted to get to him had to go through me: opposing counsel, clients, the courts, whoever. At one point Mr. Baxter instructed me to arrange for a court reporter for a deposition that had been noticed for the following week, a task that was made more difficult for me by the fact that I had never done it before.

Late in the morning, Mr. Baxter handed me some discovery requests that we had received from opposing counsel and told me to process them and give them to Hunter so that he could prepare draft responses. I scanned the documents into our system, entered reminders on the calendar for the deadline to respond to them, and then walked down to Hunter’s office.

Given all the changes I had confronted over the last twelve hours or so, I was surprised by how familiar all of this seemed despite being so different than what I was used to. For someone who was now living and working in an unfamiliar universe, I was taking it all in stride.

As I approached Hunter’s office, I heard him talking to someone.

“Did you see what Kelly was wearing today? Even in a pair of pants, she still has a fine ass. The way she swings it back and forth when she walks, it’s like she’s asking me to give it a little slap.”

A man’s laugh came from someone else in his office.

“Yeah, it’s weird to see her in pants. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear pants to work before. She’s a skirts and heels kind of girl. She looks better in a skirt.”

I recognized the other voice as belonging to Chad, the file clerk who handled the mail and kept the files organized.

I stood still and listened intently to their conversation.

“Don’t get me wrong, I prefer to see her in a skirt,” Hunter said. “Legs like hers she shouldn’t hide from anyone.”

“Did you notice she isn’t wearing any makeup?” Chad asked.

“A girl like that doesn’t need any. Besides, I don’t like my woman laying that stuff on too thick.”

“Your woman? C’mon, Hunter. You’ve been talking a good game for months. When are you going to put the moves on her?”

“Trust me, bro, I’ll get her where I want her soon enough.”

I heard footsteps walking toward me out of Hunter’s office, but before I could run or hide, Chad almost bumped into me as he stepped out.

He looked flustered as he said more loudly than he had to, “Oh, hey, Kelly. Good morning. How are you?”

No doubt he was trying to give Hunter a head’s up that I was outside the door.

“Good,” I answered faking a smile.

He darted off.

I reluctantly walked into Hunter’s office and placed the discovery requests on his desk.

“Mr. Baxter needs you to prepare responses to these as soon as you can.”

“For you, anything.”

“Thanks,” I said turning to leave.

“That’s a good look for you, by the way. I never knew how pretty you looked without makeup.”

“Okay.”

“You should do it more often. They say makeup is bad for your skin.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do you have something going on after work?”

“Why do you ask?” My stomach lurched into my throat as I worried that he was about to ask me out.

“You’re dressed differently. Most people, when they’ve got something going on, they dress up. I never saw anyone dress down for a special occasion.”

“No, I just thought I would wear something simple today.”

“Oh, well, I don’t think that’s an option for you,” Hunter said. “You make anything you wear look special.”

“I’m going to go now.”

I didn’t give Hunter the opportunity to keep me there any longer, I bolted out of the room.

I heard him call out as I left, “See you later, but I hope not too much later.”

Shortly afterward, I took my lunch break. And not a moment too soon.

I was used to Hunter using me as a sounding board for stories about his sexual conquests. I had never imagined that he would seek to make me one of his sexual conquests.

That idea was unnerving all by itself. Even worse was the fact that I had to admit that, seeing him through a woman’s eyes, I understood why he had such an easy time with women. He was gorgeous. If he were any other man, I would probably enjoy checking him out. Knowing him as I did, I found his personality repulsive, even if physically he was easy on the eyes.

For lunch I went to a diner up the street that I frequented as David. I sat down at the same booth I always picked as David. There was a cute waitress there who always took my order. She was still there but, of course, as Kelly I hardly had any interest in her looks. I ordered a tuna melt sandwich and a soda, then I went through my phone while I waited for my food.

I had received texts from Becky and Ashley reminding me to try and get home as early as possible. They wanted to get the party started early.

A group of four men wearing jeans, t-shirts, reflective vests, and hard hats walked into the café and took a nearby table. There had been some sort of construction project going on down the street for the last few weeks to replace a pipe or something. Evidently that hadn’t changed. As David, I had seen some of the guys working on that project come into the diner before.

The waitress came by with my sandwich and soda and I began eating.

As I ate, I overheard one of the construction workers say to the others softly, “Look over there, it’s that Mexican girl with the big tits from last week.”

“Yeah, she’s a regular here,” the other worker said. “We should come by this place more often.”

“Damn, that girl is hot. How would you like to motorboat those titties?”

“If you motorboat titties that big, you’re going to get a tsunami.”

The construction workers all broke out in a fit of laughter.

I almost called out to Mort right then and there to make me a man again. All the creepy comments men were making about me were taking their toll. Instead, I left my meal unfinished and left enough cash to cover it plus a tip on the table.

The rest of the afternoon wasn’t so bad, although it was clear that Brooke had a chip on her shoulder about something I had done, I just couldn’t figure out what it was.

Then her boyfriend/boss, Henry, walked into our office.

He was a good-looking guy of about thirty. He exercised and kept in shape, but he definitely wasn’t what I would consider athletic or particularly attractive. I wasn’t too sure what Brooke saw in him. I had felt that way as a man and that hadn’t changed now that I was a woman. For her part, Brooke was head-over-heels for him.

Henry left some work for Brooke to complete and chatted with her for a bit, making some jokes and small talk. Then he looked over at me and grinned.

“You wake up late today, Kelly?”

I shook my head.

“No, Henry, I just thought about it and decided that our society is too hung up on how a woman looks, so maybe I should take a pass on makeup to make a point about how a woman has more to offer the world than a pretty face.”

Henry’s eyes widened and Brooke rolled her eyes at me.

My response had been a little sassier than I had expected it to sound. I didn’t like Henry to begin with because he was sleeping with Brooke. But in addition to that, I had gotten tired of every guy in the office pointing out that I wasn’t wearing makeup and commenting on my looks.

Henry smirked.

“Good point. You know, when I was growing up, my sister would always plaster herself in makeup. My grandmother would look at her and say, ‘You want to paint up your face like that, go join the circus or stand on a street corner.’”

He laughed at his own anecdote.

Brooke joined in his laughter and added, “That’s funny.”

Irritated by the way he had played off my catty remark, I asked, “Well, which of the two did she end up doing?”

Brooke’s jaw dropped.

Henry’s face froze and I felt an instant of smug satisfaction.

Then, to my annoyance, he laughed.

“That’s a good one. That’s what I love about you, Kelly, your sense of humor. No, my sister ended up becoming a florist, but she still wears too much makeup.”

Brooke frowned.

As he walked out of our office, Henry said, “Stay funny, girl. We need you to liven up this office. Not like Ms. Grumpy there.”

Brooke’s expression did not improve upon hearing Henry’s parting comment.

She turned to me and said, “Wow, you really love being the center of attention, don’t you?”

“Me?” I said. “I can’t help it if every guy in this office tries to grab my attention.”

Brooke sighed and said, “I cannot believe how conceited you are.”

That was when a lightbulb began to go off in my head. I thought back on the dreams I had experienced the night before. I reevaluated my interactions with the men in the office in those dreams. In particular, I thought about the sort of exchanges I had shared with Henry.

Oh my god. Brooke was jealous of me. She thought I was flirting with Henry.

Of all the strange things that happened over the last few hours, that idea took the cake. And that was something considering what the least few hours had been like. Maybe it was because I hated Henry and the thought that I was trying to seduce him seemed too ridiculous to contemplate.

I usually left the office at 5:00 p.m. But given the fact that I was going out with the girls that night and because I didn’t want to be around Brooke or Henry or Hunter, I asked Mr. Baxter if I could leave at 4:30 p.m. He didn’t have any additional work for me and agreed.

“Have a wonderful weekend,” I said to Brooke as I picked up my purse and walked to the door.

“It must be nice to be in good with the boss,” she commented.

I didn’t even bother responding.

Chapter Eight

On the drive home I stopped off at a liquor store to pick up a six-pack of beer. Considering that the six-pack I had drunk the night before had put me in this situation, I should probably have reconsidered the wisdom of that decision. But I told myself not to make any wishes while drunk and that was enough to assuage any concerns I had.

I was the first one to arrive home. I put the beer in the fridge and went to my room where I unclasped my bra underneath my blouse, removed it, and tossed it in the hamper. I felt an immediate sense of relief after taking off my bra. My boobs were able to breathe free. I didn’t appreciate the way my boobs started bouncing around again, but it still felt good not to wear a bra. Then I kicked off my shoes and slipped into a pair of flip-flops I got from the closet.

I went downstairs, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and plopped down on the couch in front of the television. I tuned in to a baseball game and sipped my beer. I was instantly in paradise.

A few minutes later, I heard someone walk into the townhouse and shout, “Are any of you bitches here yet?”

That was Becky.

“One bitch reporting in!” I yelled out.

Becky stepped into the living room and did a double-take.

“Are you watching baseball?”

“It sure looks like it.”

“And since when do you drink beer?”

“Since I had a shitty day at work and decided to drink away my troubles.”

“I can’t help you with your shitty job, but I can definitely help with getting you wasted. I bought a couple of bottles of wine. They’re in the kitchen. I didn’t realize you were going to be slumming it with your booze tonight. There’s also a large pepperoni pizza on the kitchen table if you want to grab a slice.”

Becky reached over and yanked the remote out of my hand.

“And while I can understand wanting to check out a bunch of cute baseball players, this is girls’ night, so let’s switch to something a little more age appropriate.”

We started watching Starlets instead of the baseball game. I didn’t mind too much. The alcohol was already rushing to my head, and I had enjoyed the episode I had watched with Ashley the night before. Becky poured herself a glass of wine and sat next to me.

“Ashley and Emma should be home soon,” Becky said. “When they get here, we can start getting decked out in our sluttiest outfits.”

“Can’t wait.”

Becky didn’t pick up the irony in my words, or if she did, she didn’t say anything about it. But my goal wasn’t to make a slut out of myself. I just wanted to hang out and have a good time with friends. That was not something I would be able to do as David. Maybe instead of wishing to be rich, I should tell Mort I wanted to be like Kelly, but with a penis and without the tits. She had a good thing going.

We watched Starlets and ate pizza while we waited for Ashley and Emma. The girl with the cocaine addiction, her name was Cherry, was about to have sex with some sleazy drug dealer to score some more drugs when her boyfriend, a beautiful hunk of a man, rushed in to keep her from making a mistake. Cherry’s boyfriend nearly got a brutal beating from the dealer for that, but he was able to talk his way out of it and get Cherry out of there. I thought it would be sweet to have someone who cared enough about me to risk getting a beating.

I was in the kitchen grabbing a second beer after having finished the first when Ashley walked in.

“Oh no,” she said with a pained expression as she rushed toward me. “It’s true. You left the house this morning without your sexy face.”

Ashley squeezed her hands against my cheeks and gripped my face. Then she looked down at my chest, grinned, squeezed my boobs together, and said, “Please tell me you didn’t go to work without a bra, girl. You’re a naughty one.”

I pulled my boobs away from her hands and said, “Hey, no one honks my tits without buying me a drink first.”

Ashley laughed, grabbed the bottle of beer out of my hands, and took a long pull.

“If anyone could use a drink,” Ashley said, “it’s me, baby. I had a shit day at work.”

“Welcome to the club,” I said as I went back to the fridge to replace the beer Ashley had stolen from out of my hand. Then I grabbed a second slice of pizza off the table while I was at it.

“Let’s not get sidetracked. Why did you go to work without makeup or a bra? You trying to send mixed signals to your man, Hunter?”

“Ugh,” I said. “That creep is not my man. And I didn’t go to work without a bra, I took it off after I got home. As if I don’t get enough gross looks from horny guys. Can you imagine if I showed up to work like that? Those pervs would drown in their own drool.”

I took a long drink from my beer.

“Okay, and what about that boring face? Emma wasn’t making shit up when she said you left home this morning looking like that.”

I shrugged.

“I wasn’t in the mood for makeup. Sometimes a guy needs a little change.”

“Right, well, you do look like a guy without makeup. You’re not leaving the house tonight looking like that. I’m going to do you up right.”

“As if. All the guys at work said it was a good look for me.”

Ashley took another drink from her beer and nodded.

“Baby, let me tell you, if you showed up to work wearing a potato sack and with your face covered in dirt, they would tell you the same thing. Men will tell you anything to get into your fucking pants.”

Ashley grabbed a slice of pizza of her own and we walked over to the living room to join Becky.

“What are you two bitches yakking about?”

“Nothing,” Ashley answered, “Kelly is just going on again about how she wants to get her man Hunter all alone with her.”

Becky and Ashley both laughed.

“Is that why you had a shitty day?” Becky asked. “Was Hunter trying to get under your skirt again?”

I drank my beer and shook my head.

“I do not want to talk about it.”

“Sue that dick for sexual harassment already,” Becky said.

We kept drinking, eating pizza, and watching Starlets. Cherry was arguing with Stacey, the girl who was sleeping around to get acting roles. Cherry was saying that sleeping with men to land work was no different than sleeping with them for drugs. Stacey slapped Cherry across the face and walked out on her.

“I cannot believe that bitch did that!” Ashley cried. “Sucker punch that slut, Cherry.”

Becky and I both laughed.

A few minutes later, Emma arrived home and, after pouring herself a glass of wine and grabbing some pizza, came over to sit with us.

“Fuck,” Emma whined, “I told you guys not to watch this show without me. I hate you bitches. What did I miss?”

We caught her up on the show.

“Did Holly catch her boyfriend cheating on her?” Emma asked.

“No,” I answered. “She’s just been following him around looking for clues. Holly is the kind of girl people are talking about when they say bitches be crazy. He is totally not cheating on her. It’s all in her head.”

“Wrong,” Ashley said. “If I were in a relationship with that basic bitch, I would cheat on her ass, too. He is absolutely fucking another girl.”

“I’m with Kelly,” Emma said. “He’s a good guy, he wouldn’t cheat on her.”

We were all stunned a few minutes later when Holly walked in on her boyfriend in bed with another man.

“Oh my god,” Becky said. “I called it. When we were watching last week, I called it, I totally said he was gay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ashley said dismissively. “You can sniff out a closet case a mile away. Congratulations.”

We kept watching Starlets and drinking. I could have spent the whole night like that. I was having the best time of my life hanging out with the girls.

But after I had finished my third beer, Ashley said, “Okay, Kelly, come upstairs with me, girl. It’s time to pimp you out.”

Ashley grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. I nearly stumbled to the ground. I thought it was odd that just standing up straight had become a bit of a challenge after only three beers. As David, I wouldn’t have even had a buzz going after three beers. But I reminded myself that Kelly was a small girl, she probably couldn’t handle alcohol as well. I would have to keep that in mind.

Ashley led me upstairs to my room and asked me, “What are you wearing out tonight?”

“I don’t know. I can just wear what I have on now.”

Ashley made a sour face.

“You’re going out of your way today to be unattractive and sexless.”

Ashley rummaged through my closet and tossed me a small strip of lilac-colored cloth.

“Put that on,” Ashley ordered.

I stared blankly at the cloth.

“What is this?”

“It’s that off-the-shoulder mini dress you bought last month,” Ashley said.

“This is a dress?”

“Strip,” Ashley ordered.

I pulled off my blouse and my slacks and began to slip on the dress.

“Kelly,” Ashley said irritably, “are you forgetting something?”

“What?”

Ashley walked over to the old dresser and pulled out a bra and thong that she tossed to me.

“Take off the grandma underwear and put those on instead.”

“I’m not sure I’m a thong kind of girl,” I said.

“Yeah, I got that impression from this drawer full of thongs you have here. Quit messing around and get dressed. If you don’t hurry, I won’t have time to do your makeup.”

Dutifully, I removed the underwear I had worn to work and slipped on the thong. I had always thought that wearing a thong would make a girl feel like she had a piece of floss riding up her butt crack. I was surprised to find that wearing a thong felt like I was wearing nothing at all. The bra Ashley handed me was different from the one I had worn to work. It didn’t have any shoulder straps, just the strap that went around my back. When I pulled on the lilac dress, I understood why. The dress exposed my shoulders, but without the shoulder straps, no one could tell I was wearing a bra. Speaking of being exposed, I was struggling to pull the bottom of the dress down over my thighs.

“What are you doing?” Ashley asked.

“I’m trying to pull the dress all the way down,” I said.

“It is all the way down.”

“What? It barely covers my ass.”

“That’s one of the reasons you bought it.”

Ashley walked around behind me, pulled up the zipper in the back of the dress for me, then grabbed my hand and led me to the full-length mirror.

My eyes widened with alarm. Ashley had called it a mini dress and I could see why. Not only did it barely go down far enough to conceal my butt, but it also showed off a lot of cleavage.

“My boobs look like they’re going to burst out of this thing,” I said.

“That’s the other reason you bought it,” Ashley said. “Here, take these and let’s go downstairs so I can do your makeup.”

Ashley handed me a pair of black strappy high-heeled shoes. I carried the shoes in my hand as I walked down to the living room in my bare feet. I had no idea how I was going to walk around in those stilts.

Becky and Emma were up in their rooms getting ready and the living room was empty, but Starlets was still playing on the television. Ashley sat me down on the couch and pulled out her cosmetic kit. I watched the show as Ashley applied her noxious chemical cocktail to my face.

The Cherry character was in rehab now, trying to deal with her cocaine addiction. Her boyfriend had borrowed some money from some shady characters to pay for her treatment. She met a fellow patient, a musician who was in rehab to treat his heroin problem. He and Cherry talked about their common struggle and how hard it was to accept themselves without drugs to help them feel normal. Cherry leaned in and kissed the musician. Then, apparently regretting her decision, she ran out of the room.

I shook my head in disbelief.

“Stay still,” Ashley ordered.

“What a dumb bitch. She’s got a guy who risks his own ass to help her, a guy who takes care of her, and she cheats on him with some druggie she met in a rehab. Why don’t women have any common sense?”

“I keep wondering the same thing,” Ashley said as she grabbed my chin, tilted my head to the side, and continued to apply makeup to my face. “A kiss is hardly cheating. And anyway, her boyfriend only wants her because she’s hot. He treats here like he owns her. Obviously she’s going to get feelings for a guy who shows an interest in who she is as a person.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

After a few minutes, Ashley said, “There. All done. I am a miracle worker.”

She handed me a mirror and I looked myself over.

“Gah!” I exclaimed. “I look like a Vegas whore!”

“I know,” Ashley said with a smile. “I’m damn good at what I do.”

There was no denying I looked even sexier thanks to Ashley’s handy work. My eyelashes looked thicker and longer with mascara, and the eyeshadow Ashley had applied gave my eyes an elongated look, an effect that made them more intense and expressive. The phrase “bedroom eyes” came to mind. She had also applied something to my lips that made them look fuller and poutier. Whatever she had applied to my cheeks and forehead gave my face a healthy bright glow while somehow adding the illusion of greater depth. The effect made my face look narrower and sharpened my features.

“I’ll admit it, Ashley, you have a gift for this.”

“Thanks. Now that I’m done making you presentable, I’m going to go upstairs and fix myself up.”

After Ashley left to get ready, I spent a few minutes admiring myself in the mirror. I was in danger of becoming a narcissist.

Then I noticed the strappy heels I had brought down to the living room lying on the ground beside my feet. I decided to practice walking in them while I was alone. I slipped them onto my feet and then carefully stood up. The elevated design of the shoes pushed my weight forward and I found it difficult to stand, especially given that the weight on my chest was already pulling me in that direction. It took me a few minutes just to be able to balance while standing still in the heels. But once I was able to stand up straight without feeling like I was in danger of tipping over, I took a step forward. To avoid falling flat on my face, I had to sort of pull my shoulders away from the direction I was moving in and rock back on the heels as they touched the ground, otherwise I was sure I would fall forward. The unfamiliar experience of basically walking on the tips of my toes limited me to taking very short mincing steps. Whenever I tried to increase my stride, I would begin to lose my balance. The constant feeling of falling forward also caused me to take steps by putting one foot directly in front of the other, like I was walking on a tight rope, which I thought was odd because I would have expected that widening my stance as I walked would have been more likely to help me balance, but it was just the opposite.

After a few minutes of walking around the living room in the heels, I felt confident that if I walked slowly, took tiny steps, kept my shoulders pulled back a bit, and landed each step heel first, I could walk in the shoes without falling. While that was a major accomplishment for me, I was a long way from looking like a runway model in those heels.

I practiced walking around in the heels for a few more minutes before deciding to grab another beer from the fridge. Then I sat back down on the couch and continued watching Starlets.

Before long, my bladder told me in very forceful terms that it was full and had to be emptied. I walked over to the first-floor bathroom, hitched up my dress, yanked down my thong, and took a seat. I exhaled with relief as I let my pent-up urine flow. That felt good. When I was done, I grabbed a thick portion of toilet paper and dabbed the area around my vagina until it was dry. I didn’t want a repeat of my previous mistake, especially in my pretty party dress. I pulled my thong back up, put my dress back down, then I washed my hands and went back out into the living room to wait for the other girls.

A short time later, Becky and Emma came down the stairs wearing revealing, tight-fitting dresses, their faces coated in makeup. At least I knew I was observing the dress code for the night’s festivities.

“Oh my god,” Becky said, “we look as glamorous as porn stars.”

Becky and Emma both grabbed fresh glasses of wine and we began to take selfies. I thought the whole thing was ridiculous and did my best to strike the most exaggerated, over-the-top poses I could imagine. I put my arms behind my head, pulled my hair up, and stuck out my chest for one picture. For another, I put my hands under my boobs and raised them up toward the camera. I let my imagination run wild. Becky and Emma thought it was hilarious and laughed hard.

I realized that I was already hammered after four beers. Kelly was a lightweight. But I was enjoying myself. The alcohol-induced euphoria caused me to forget about my troubles and live in the moment. I had never had this much fun in my life.

Ashley finally walked down the stairs. She put the rest of us to shame dressed as she was in a dark red dress, her makeup giving her a sultry appearance that practically made her sizzle.

“Take it down a notch, girl,” I said. “You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

“Don’t think of it like that,” Ashley said. “Think of it more like the three of you are making me look good.”

Ashley grabbed the last beer from the fridge and, as we continued drinking, the four of us took group photos of ourselves.

Chapter Nine

Finally, once we were thoroughly drunk, Ashley ordered a ride for us on her phone. We were obviously in no condition to get behind the wheel of a car.

A few minutes later, a white Kia sedan pulled up outside in front of our place and our driver notified us that he had arrived. We grabbed our purses, and someone turned off the television, then we funneled out onto the street. Becky got into the front seat beside the driver while the rest of us packed into the backseat. I was disappointed to find that our driver was a weathered, middle-aged man wearing a baseball cap and glasses. He looked old enough to be my father. I would have preferred some eye candy to look at right then.

“You girls are heading to the Scarlet Chamber, right?” he asked.

“You got it, handsome,” Becky said in a melodious tone. “We’re going to blow the roof off that place.”

The driver nodded, seemingly indifferent to her playful attitude. Once we were all in the car, he took off.

As we rode to the nightclub, Ashley played music on her phone. Before long, we were all belting out the lyrics to a famous pop song.

We sounded terrible, but we didn’t care. We were young, we were beautiful, and we were drunk. We could do no wrong in our eyes.

Minutes later, our driver dropped us off in front of a three-story redbrick building in the heart of downtown. It was still early in the evening but there was already a large crowd of people lining up to get inside.

“I’ve been here before,” I said.

“Yeah,” Ashley said. “We were here a few weeks ago.”

But that wasn’t what I had meant. I had dreamt of visiting this exact place with the girls the night before. I was more convinced than before that those hadn’t just been dreams.

We followed Becky to the front of the waiting crowd where she exchanged words with one of the bouncers, who immediately let us in without having to wait in line. Any nightclub that didn’t make sure to give priority to a group of hot drunk girls likely wouldn’t stay in business for very long. You had to give the consumers what they were asking for, in this case booze and boobs.

The interior of the Scarlet Chamber was just the way it had been in my dreams, extremely dark, dimly lit with various shades of red lighting. We moved through a wide hallway with long counters on either side where crowds of people were jostling past one another to order drinks from overworked bartenders. As we made our way through the place, we could hear the music playing from the main dance floor, the sounds vibrating in our bones. Finally, we reached a large open area bathed in bright red light, full of people dancing to the standard nightclub musical repertoire of house, hip hop, R&B, Latin music, and the occasional pop song.

I couldn’t tell whether we were in a dance club or in hell, but I was too drunk to care either way. The four of us locked hands with one another and followed Becky out onto the main floor. I was thankful for that because it was difficult enough to walk in high heels while inebriated, but all the drunken revelers thrashing around, waving their arms, and shoving against each other made it almost impossible to maintain my balance without leaning on the other girls.

We staked out a spot near the middle of the floor and began dancing. I watched the girls gyrate their hips, thrust their pelvises back and forth, raise their arms over their heads, and move their feet to the beat of the music. I did my best to copy them, except when it came to moving my feet. I kept them firmly planted for fear of falling to the ground and being crushed by the dancing mob.

We carried on like that for what felt like a very long time. The combination of poor ventilation and dozens of bodies packed tightly together in a constant state of physical exertion caused me to build up quite a sweat. Then I felt a familiar pressure building up around my bladder.

I leaned over toward Ashley and shouted, “I’ve got to take a piss!”

“Me, too,” she said before I could begin making my way to the bathroom. She turned to Becky and Emma and cried, “Bathroom break!”

Becky and Emma continued to dance as Ashley grabbed my hand and pulled me along toward a distant wall where a long line of women stood together.

“What are we doing here?” I asked. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“This is the line to the bathroom, smart ass,” Ashley said.

I stared at the line and winced. I hoped I wouldn’t piss myself waiting to use the toilet.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ashley and I finally reached the restroom itself and took turns using a stall. When we went to wash our hands, Ashley looked at herself in the mirror and reapplied her lipstick, then she adjusted her breasts by pushing them upward and tugging on the top of her dress. Curious, I looked at my own boobs in the mirror. I thought they looked fine, I only wished people could see less of them.

As we walked back out onto the dance floor, I could see Becky and Emma standing off toward the edge talking to three guys. One of them had a shaved head, a gold chain around his neck, and a tattoo of crossed swords on his left bicep. Another guy was wearing a designer shirt and jeans that looked expensive, with his long blond hair worn down past his ears.

The third guy was extremely tall, which was saying something because now that I was tiny, everyone looked tall to me. He must have been six feet, four inches tall, wearing dark jeans and a fitted black shirt that showed off muscles bigger than my head. The tall guy’s jet-black hair was slicked back with product. He was by far the most attractive of the three, with a clean-shaven square jaw and piercing hazel eyes. The alcohol had extinguished any inhibitions I had about admitting to myself that the body I was inhabiting was physically attracted to men. The tall guy was hot.

“Boys,” Becky said to the three men as we walked up to her, “this is the rest of my entourage. These two pretty ladies are Ashley and Kelly.”

The blond stepped toward Ashley, shook her hand, and leaned in toward her ear to say something. Ashley smiled back at him. The guy with the shaved head kept his attention focused on Becky. As for Emma, I saw her out of the corner of my eye on the dance floor rubbing up against another guy I had not noticed before, the two of them rocking their hips in unison to the music.

The tall man stepped toward me, and I grinned stupidly as I craned my neck back to look all the way up at him.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “My name is Marco.”

“You’re fucking tall,” I said dimly.

He smiled.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed. Thanks for letting me know. Is that a problem for you?”

“Not as long as you can hear me all the way up there.”

He laughed and said, “Hey, do you want a drink? I was just about to grab something.”

“A tall glass of water sounds good about now,” I said trying to sound playful.

Marco smirked at that.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he said as he gently grabbed my wrist and led me to the bar. “A place like this puts plenty of water in all their drinks.”

We fought our way through the crowd trying to grab the attention of the bartenders hustling behind the counter to fill drink orders. Marco waved a big wad of cash around and one of the busy bartenders darted over to see what he needed.

Marco ordered a whiskey sour for himself then turned to me to ask, “And what will the lady be having?”

“Make mine an old-fashioned,” I said to the bartender.

Marco’s eyes widened for a moment, but he placed the wad of cash in the bartender’s hands and within moments we had our drinks.

“An old-fashioned?” Marco said. “I was expecting something more like a vodka cranberry. My dad drinks old-fashioneds.”

“What can I tell you,” I said as I sipped my drink, “I’m an old-fashioned kind of gal.”

As we stepped away from the bar, I locked arms with Marco to steady myself on my heels. We took our drinks and walked over to an outdoor patio where a crowd of people were mingling.

As we made our way there, I saw Becky out on the floor dancing with the guy with the shaved head and Emma still grinding against her mystery man. Ashley was standing nearby talking to the blond guy. She shot me a knowing look over the blond’s shoulder and mouthed the words, “Don’t be naughty.”

I raised a hand in her direction, trying to tell her to take it easy. I didn’t want her spoiling my fun.

As we stood on the patio, I took another sip from my drink then looked up at Marco.

“Maybe we should look for a ladder,” I said.

He looked around for a moment. His eyes locked in on something and he said, “Here’s the next best thing.”

He put his hands on my hips, picked me up, and planted me on a barstool beside a table just large enough to hold our drinks. The bar stool was high enough to put me eye-level with his chin, which was an improvement. I giggled. I had felt a slight tingling between my legs and in my nipples when he had held me in his arms. Maybe that was what every girl feels in the arms of a big, strong man.

“You’re very forward for a guy I just met,” I said.

“I’m trying to get to know you, that’s usually how it works. I’m not going to do that standing around waiting for an invitation.”

I took another sip from my drink.

“Okay,” I said, “your name is Marco, you’re tall, and you love whiskey sours. What else do I need to know about you? Are you a serial-killer? If I give you my number, will I still be in one piece tomorrow?”

“If I were a serial-killer, I would tell you, I swear.”

“How about an icebreaker? Tell me your deepest, darkest secret.”

Marco squinted his eyes and stroked his chin for a few moments.

“Normally this isn’t something I would share with someone I just met, but you have a trustworthy face. I think you can keep a secret.”

He motioned for me to lean in close and, when I did, he said, “Once, I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.”

I giggled again.

“Cute. I love Johnny Cash.”

“A girl with taste. I like you already.”

“Now tell me something that isn’t bullshit.”

He nodded.

“All right. I didn’t graduate from high school. Now I’m going back to school to get my GED. Until then, I’m working with my dad at his repair shop.”

“It takes a pair of balls to admit that to a total stranger, I’ll give you that. And what do you plan to do after you get your GED?”

He threw his hands up in the air.

“I don’t know. I haven’t looked that far ahead yet. I think I’ll take it one step at a time.”

I chugged down what was left of my drink.

My brain was soaked in alcohol and I wasn’t thinking clearly, but it struck me as poignant that Marco was exactly the kind of guy that I had looked down on in high school. And Marco had probably been one of those type of kids who had given me grief throughout high school. I had been a pretentious nerd as David, I guess. That was one of many reasons that David had been low on friends and high on regret about his life. Yet here I sat with Marco, transfixed by his good looks and confident charm. It made me wonder about how it is that we become the people we are. Is it just accident of birth, a twist of fate, or is it really about the choices we make? Are we destined to be who we are, or can we be anyone that the world shapes us into being?

That was too much philosophy to handle with a head full of as much alcohol as I had in mine.

Marco raised his empty glass.

“I’m going to go grab another one. Do you want a refill?”

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation.

Marco went to freshen our drinks while I sat alone on the patio.

He came back a few minutes later, handed me another old-fashioned, and said, “All right, Kelly, now it’s your turn to come clean. Tell me a secret.”

The room was already spinning, but I nevertheless took a long drink from my glass.

“Okay, but you must promise not to tell anyone. Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“I was born a man,” I said with a perfectly straight face.

Marco laughed his ass off.

“That’s a good one. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you must not have made for very much of a man.”

Ouch. He obviously meant that as a joke. But there was more truth to his words that he could ever have imagined. No, I hadn’t been much of man. In every meaningful way, David Rodriguez had failed to live up to even his own modest expectations, let alone society’s. I had been David for twenty-two years and had never experienced as much fun as I had in two days as Kelly, despite all the humiliation I had experienced as a girl. She definitely had a lot more going for her.

I took another long drink.

“Okay,” I said, “you really want to hear a secret?”

Marco nodded.

“Secretly, I’ve always wished I could meet a random stranger at a bar and take that person home for a night of passionate sex.”

I smiled and put a hand on one of Marco’s biceps, giving it a tight squeeze. With my other hand, I raised a finger to my lips as if shushing him. I shot him a telling wink.

Marco grinned and placed one of his hands on my knee, gently sliding it up my inner thigh. I placed my hand on his and caressed it invitingly.

“There’s a first time for everything, Kelly.”

I giggled.

Chapter Ten

I finished off my drink and the next hour or two was a blur.

Marco and I ended up on the dance floor. I didn’t so much dance with him as I rubbed my butt and my boobs against his chest and crotch. He bent down and we kissed. The next thing I knew, we were back out on the patio locking lips, my hands desperately searching over his body, my fingers making their way through his hair. I vaguely remember telling him I wanted to go home and asking him to give me a ride, and I remember him eagerly agreeing to do so. I also remember saying something to Becky about getting a ride home with Marco while she literally had her hands full with another guy. There was also a brief exchange with Ashley that ended with her rolling her eyes at me and telling me that I would never learn from my mistakes. The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the passenger-side seat of Marco’s car with the window rolled down, watching the city lights speed by through the night as he drove me back to the townhouse.

He parked out in front on the street. At this point I could barely stand, let alone walk in heels, so he picked me up in his arms and used my keys to unlock the front door. As we entered the townhouse, I kissed his lips and ran my fingers through his hair. I told him where my room was, and he quickly carried me up there.

When we were in my room, I turned on the light, dropped my purse to the floor, and pulled off the godforsaken heels I was wearing. Then I stepped over to him and unbuttoned his shirt, yanking it off him.

I was face-to-face with his rock-hard pectorals. I leaned forward and covered his chest in kisses, then started nibbling on his nipples. I ran my tongue over them eagerly.

All the while, I could feel my womanhood grow moist and fill with an intense heat. Mysterious muscles deep within my pelvis tightened and tensed and I became overwhelmed with a sense of emptiness inside my body that I became desperate to fill. Twenty-two years of pent-up sexual frustration were coming to a head. As a man, I had ached to share my body with another soul. As a woman, that longing was no less powerful. My gender no longer mattered to me, not in that moment. I had a burning desire that badly needed to be satisfied, and it didn’t matter if that satisfaction came as a man or as a woman, it just had to come.

“I need you to fuck me,” I said. And I meant it. I was hornier than I had ever been in my life. Nothing was going to stop me from getting what I wanted.

Marco said nothing. He reached behind me and yanked down the zipper at the back of my dress, peeling off my dress and letting it fall to the floor. He pulled off my bra and tossed it away. Then he picked me up and stood me on the bed, taking my breasts in his massive hands and squeezing them gently, playfully. He kissed and licked my breasts as he massaged them.

“Oh fuck, I love that,” I moaned as little electric bolts of pleasure shot out from my nipples and surged up my spine.

Down between my legs, I grew hotter and hotter.

I saw a large bulge protruding from the crotch of his pants. I reached down and unbuckled his pants, pulling them down along with the boxer shorts he wore underneath. His huge, erect penis flopped out to greet me. I licked my lips as I wrapped my hands around it. His manhood was thicker than my wrist and almost as long. Somewhere in the back recesses of my mind, there was a sense of shame at realizing he was much bigger than I had been as a man, but that feeling quickly receded into oblivion as I was overcome by yearning.

This was my first time holding a penis that was not my own. I loved the feel of its hard warmth in my hand and squeezed firmly. Years of playing with my own cock now came in handy in giving me firsthand knowledge of the best way to stimulate his. I slid my hand to the tip of his cock and tightened my grip, stroking him slowly at first but then gradually speeding up. He moaned loudly, a deep, manly sound that got me even more excited. I was stunned to feel him grow even bigger and harder in my hand.

He reached up to my crotch and slid the thin piece of fabric that covered my soaking wet vagina to the side, then he began rubbing my nether regions. He must have had a lot of practice with running his hands over a girl’s parts, because I began to shudder with pleasure at his touch. My womanly juices flowed down his fingers.

He picked me up again and put me down on the bed on my back. He climbed on top of me, completely naked, his massive erection pointed right at me. He slid my thong down my legs and over my ankles, tossing it on the floor. I bent my knees and spread my legs apart.

“I want you inside me so badly,” I said.

“Yeah, you’ve been wanting it since you first laid eyes on me,” he said. “You’re a horny girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, baby,” I said, “I’m a horny slut. I’m your slut. Please stick it in me, please. I want you inside me. I need you inside me.”

A look of fierce determination on his face, he grabbed my ankles and raised them up into the air, exposing my vulnerable little pussy to his waiting manhood. Then he pushed his hips forward and I could feel the tip of his cock moving past my vaginal lips, right toward my eager opening. There was a painful pinching sensation as he entered me, and I groaned in pain. The discomfort lasted only a few moments. As he pushed his way inside me, the pain of the initial penetration was replaced by a new, completely alien sensation. I could feel muscles deep within my body stretch and pull apart to accommodate his size. My muscles kept giving way under the tremendous pressure he applied to them. I began to worry I would burst. But at last, he was fully inside me and I could feel a hard, hot presence buried within my receptive flesh.

Then he pulled back, but only for a moment before thrusting back in, and then pulling back again. He pushed my ankles so far back that I could look up and see my tiny toes curling tightly beside his face as he rocked his hips back and forth. As he moved in and out of me faster and faster, a powerful feeling began to grow inside my body as he rubbed against extremely sensitive areas within me. At first it began like a tingling sensation, then as he sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, the pleasure intensified into waves of physical ecstasy that emanated out from my vagina, stretching further and further over my body with each new thrust.

Without any conscious intent on my part, I released a deep-throated scream of delight. I couldn’t help myself. As Marco pushed in and out of me, moans of physical euphoria escaped from out of my mouth against my will. I tried to stop, struggled to hold back the screams, but I couldn’t. I could no more hold back the screams than I could hold back the ripples of pleasure washing over my body.

My entire body was filled with that sense of tight tension that was so familiar to me from back when I had been a man and I had pleasured myself, that feeling just before I was about to ejaculate, that feeling that had told me that an orgasm was imminent. That sense of tension grew stronger and stronger as Marco kept pumping into me. I rocked my hips back and forth to meet each of Marco’s thrusts, desperate to achieve the sexual release that I knew was coming.

Marco let out a deafening howl. Then something twisted and writhed inside of me, pushing and pulling the muscles inside of me with unyielding urgency. I felt something hot fill me up inside. Marco stopped pumping. Already I could feel him growing softer even as he remained within me.

“Did you come?” I asked.

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “What about you, babe. How many times did you get off?”

His limp penis slid out of me as he rolled onto his back. His semen mixed with my womanly fluids and leaked out of my vagina, down my thighs, and onto the bed. I stared down incredulously as the product of our passion flowed out of me unceremoniously.

There had been no physical release for me. My needs remained unsatisfied. I was once again overcome with that sense of aching emptiness between my legs that yearned to be filled. I was horny and I desperately wanted to get off. I looked over at Marco’s cock and watched it shrivel away to a disrespectful fraction of its full size.

Marco lay back on the bed, a smug, contended look on his face. I lay there feeling cheated.

After what felt like a long time, Marco reached over with one hand and began fondling my breasts.

“You want to go again?”

As upset as I was that he had deprived me of my goal by finishing before I had a chance to orgasm, my body began responding to his touch. I grew wet again between my legs.

“Yes,” I said, unable to hide my enthusiasm.

“All right,” he said as he puts his hands behind his head and lay back. “Get me hard again. Go down on me.”

I looked down at his limp dick, caked in our drying juices.

I wanted to keep fucking, but the thought of putting his soiled cock in my mouth was not the most appealing prospect. I hesitated for a while, but eventually my horniness overcame my disgust. I crawled over to Marco’s waiting cock on all fours, tossed my hair back to get it out of the way, and bent down. I stopped for a moment as the pungent, sour odor of the dried fluids hit me, then kept going. I wrapped my lips around his cock and my mouth filled with a bitter, salty taste. I thought I was going to retch, but I kept control and powered through the noxious taste.

“That’s a good girl,” he said with satisfaction.

I had never received a blow job as a man, let alone given one. My only clue as to how this was supposed to work came from hours of watching porn. Knowing that the tip of my penis had been its most sensitive spot as a man, I focused on that now. I began sucking the tip of Marco’s cock like a lollipop. Then I ran my tongue up and down his shaft for a few minutes, alternating between licking it and covering it with kisses. After trying that for a while, I went back to sucking his tip.

Marco placed his hand on the back of my head and began moaning with delight. He was really enjoying himself.

I couldn’t say the same. It took ten minutes of working aggressively on Marco’s limp manhood before he began to get hard again. My jaw became sore.

I kept going because my hard work was paying off. Marco moaned louder and longer, his cock getting rock hard again. My pussy began to get wet with anticipation. Soon he would be inside me again and I’d be on my way to achieving release.

Marco’s cock slapped hard against the roof of my mouth as it twitched unexpectedly. For one horrible moment, I knew what was coming, but before I could do anything about it, a hot fluid shot out into my mouth. His semen burned the back of my throat and I gagged as I pulled away from him, releasing his penis from my mouth just as another load of semen shot out and splashed against my cheek. As I coughed and my throat burned, my mouth filled with a terrible acrid taste. Some of his semen slid down my throat, making me cough harder, but some of it remained in my mouth. It was awful, the consistency of phlegm, but hot and bitter. I spit out the semen that remained in my mouth, but just then some of the semen that had struck me on the cheek leaked into my eye and began to burn, like the feeling you get when you’re swimming at the beach and saltwater gets into your eye.

“You fucking asshole!” I screamed. “You weren’t supposed to come in my mouth. Why didn’t you say something?”

I got out of bed and ran to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he said. “You were just too good. I blew my load before I could say anything.”

I spent several minutes in the bathroom washing out my eye and rinsing repeatedly with mouthwash, desperately trying to get the taste of Marco’s seed out of my mouth. Then I sat down on the toilet and peed. The alcohol had flowed through me like a river.

When I was done cleaning myself up, I returned to bed to find Marco snoring, passed out asleep.

I was horny, angry, and humiliated. But most of all I was exhausted. The alcohol had hit me hard and all I wanted to do in that moment was sleep. I turned off the light and reluctantly crawled into bed beside Marco, hoping he would remain asleep.

I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. I had those vivid dreams again, but they flashed by more quickly, more like incomplete fragments than whole visions. I saw myself as a little girl wearing a bright pink jumper on my first day of school. I saw myself as a teenage girl dancing with a boy who held me in his arms. I saw myself hanging out with friends at a mall as an older girl. The images went by too quickly to make sense of them.

Then I woke up to the feeling of someone pulling me up by my hips. I was confused, not sure where I was or what I was doing. It took a moment to realize I was still in bed with Marco. I was face down on my stomach, and he was on my back, trying to lift my rear. I could feel him kissing my neck and my back as he put a hand on my pelvis and angled me upward toward him. I felt the familiar touch of his erect penis rubbing against the entrance to my vagina, but I was no longer interested in sex. I only wanted to sleep and be left alone. I was dry as a desert down there.

That didn’t matter at all to Marco. He slid the tip of his dick past the lips of my vagina, and I squealed in anguish as I felt that awful pinching sensation again, only this time it did not subside. As he pushed his way into me, the pain was excruciating. It was as if someone was giving me a nasty Indian burn on the inside of my body. Because I had not been properly primed with foreplay this time around, there was no natural lubricant down there and it hurt horribly as he stretched me open.

“Of fuck!” I cried as he began to thrust in and out of me.

I moaned in agony which he must have mistaken for ecstasy, but it didn’t last long. He let out a heavy grunt and I felt another violent spasm within me. His semen gushed out yet again, flooding my insides. He pulled out. I collapsed onto the bed and felt his seed leak out of me.

I said nothing as he crawled out of bed and got dressed.

He leaned down to kiss my cheek and ran his fingers through my hair.

“You were great, babe,” he said. “We’ll get together and do this again soon.”

Then Marco got up and walked out of the room.

I fell asleep and had more erratic, brief flashes of dreams.

Chapter Eleven

When I opened my eyes again, the alarm clock told me it was just before 6:00 a.m.

I felt an aching dullness between my legs. It was similar to the feeling of sore muscles you get after a hard workout at the gym. The throbbing pain radiated up from the opening of my vagina and flowed to some place deep within my body. The area around my vagina and my inner thighs was sticky and caked with dried fluids.

Slowly, I got out of bed, the soreness between my legs stabbing at me with each movement. I sat on the edge of my bed, my hair falling over my eyes, my arms folded across my chest.

I was feeling disoriented from all the alcohol I had consumed the night before, and the alcohol’s depressant effect was hitting me hard now.

What had I done? On one drunken binge, I had wished to become a woman, and on another drunken binge, I had allowed some asshole to take me home, stick his thing in me, and use my body as his personal cum dumpster.

I vaguely remembered having some stupid fantasy the night before of losing my virginity as a woman, believing it would be a night of orgasmic delight. Well, it had been a night of ecstasy. For Marco. He had certainly enjoyed himself at my expense. He had used me and then kicked me to the curb without even the courtesy of allowing me some sexual release.

“Holy fuck,” I groaned.

I had lost my virginity. I had never even experienced sex as a man, but I now knew what it was like as a woman. And worse yet, I had spread my legs for the kind of guy who had bullied me in high school.

I felt disgusted with myself. He had left his seed in my vagina and in my mouth. Oh my god. I had taken him in my mouth.

I ran to the bathroom, making it there just in time to throw up in the toilet. I collapsed onto the floor beside the toilet and flushed away my vomit. I thought about Marco’s semen wriggling around inside my stomach, inside my uterus. A moment later I threw up again.

After flushing away my second round of vomit, I stood up, found my bathrobe, and slipped into it, making sure the font of it was closed tight. Then I looked at the turquoise ring on my right hand.

“Mort!” I shouted.

I was done with all this crap. I was going to transform back into a man and forget the last couple of days had ever happened. Fuck Kelly Rodriguez. The little whore could keep her big tits, her bitch friends, and her promiscuous ways. I was done with her fucked up, sad little life. David Rodriguez’s life may also have been sad and pathetic, but it was my life, and it was time to get back to it.

There was a puff of black smoke and Mort returned.

He shook his head glumly and said, “You’ve been put through the wringer, sweetheart.”

“No shit,” I barked. “I’m ready to make my second wish. I wish I were a man again, turn me back into David Rodriguez.”

Mort gave me a blank stare.

“What’s wrong? I said that’s my second wish. Go ahead and make it happen.”

“No one ever said anything about a second wish, honey.”

My jaw dropped.

“No, no, no. You said you were a genie, that I got three wishes. That’s how it works. Don’t fuck around with me right now, I’m in no mood to be fucked with.”

“Sweetheart, what I said was, ‘You make a wish, I grant it, the world keeps turning.’ A wish. Singular. One. You made it, I granted it. That’s the end of it.”

“But, if that’s all there is, only one wish, why are you still here?”

“I told you,” Mort explained, “I go where the ring goes. Until you transfer possession of the ring to a new master, I stick around. But no more wishes. Everybody gets one. No more, no less.”

“And this isn’t some sort of joke? You’re not playing with me?”

“No joke,” Mort assured me.

My heart began pounding hard against my chest and my breathing became shallower and faster. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. A sickening, gut-wrenching feeling of despair overwhelmed my whole being. I fell to the floor on my knees and began to cry. The tears flowed down my face like pouring rain.

I was stuck as a woman for the rest of my life. I had never experienced sex as a man and now I would never get the chance. I would never be a father. If I wanted to have a child, I would have to find a man to get me pregnant. And I would never get a chance to turn my life around. All the mistakes I had made as a man, all the regrets I had lived with, those would come to define my former existence as a man. And that existence would slowly fade away, replaced by this new life as a slutty little secretary whose only value in the eyes of men was as a repository for their semen, a living sex toy custom built for their pleasure.

I collapsed to the ground and kept crying.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Mort said. “Don’t be such a drama queen. You wished to be turned into a beautiful dame, you wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“I only did that because I didn’t think you were real,” I said between sobs. “Plus, I was drunk, just like I was drunk last night when I…when I let myself…when I was…oh god, this is a nightmare.”

As I lay on the ground crying, I caught sight of something lying under my desk. My tears stopped as I realized what it was. I reached for the object and raised it up to show Mort.

“You transformed the beer bottle into a tulip,” I said as I waved the wilting flower in front of his face.

“Right,” Mort said. “I’m not a big fan of getting knocked upside the head. Count yourself lucky, I could have turned the bottle into a snake.”

“Exactly,” I said as I rose to my feet. “You were able to transform the bottle into a flower without a wish from me. That means you don’t need me to make a wish to change me back into a man.”

Mort crossed his left arm over his chest and raised his right hand against his face, leaning his head against it. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“I see. You’re a smart girl, but you can’t honestly think you’re the first person to try and push for extra wishes.”

I crumpled up the flower and tossed it at his chest.

“It’s true, you have the power to change me back. You’re only messing with me. Admit it.”

Mort wagged a finger back and forth in front of my face.

“Not quite. Now, as a djinn, I possess all sorts of fascinating abilities. But that doesn’t mean I can do anything I want whenever I want. It’s all part of the mechanics of the process. Look, you’ve got two legs and you can walk a good distance, but that doesn’t mean you can walk on water or walk to the moon. The rules of magic aren’t all that different from the laws of physics.”

“That’s not a yes or no, asshole.”

“Bottom line, honey, I can’t change you back into a man.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not something a mortal would understand, not an ordinary mortal, anyway.”

“Try me.”

Mort sighed.

“Okay. Here it is. I made your wish come true by tapping your mana. When I took your mana, I used the energy from the transfer to generate your wish. Naturally, you’re in bad shape now that all your mana has been drained, but you’ll be able to accumulate more of it, so no big deal. But I can only tap the well once. After I’ve consumed a particular mortal’s mana, I can’t consume it again because it will have been tainted by my karma. In fact, no djinn can consume the mana of a mortal whose mana has already been consumed by another djinn.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Surprise, surprise. It’s all Greek to you.”

I took a deep breath. I had to get control of myself and think rationally.

“Okay. Let’s start with this. What is mana?”

“Oh, brother. What’s mana? Yeah, this is going to be fun. Mana is a fundamental force that flows through reality.”

“Fine, a fundamental force that flows through reality. Now, I was full of mana, and you drained it. That’s how you made my wish come true.”

“Yes. It’s sort of the way that you eat food for energy. The byproduct of that process is feces, the byproduct of my consumption of your mana was your wish.”

I frowned in disgust.

“So, wishes are basically your waste?”

“Sort of. You are a smart girl.”

“You said that you drained all my mana, but I’ll create more.”

“No,” Mort said. “You can’t make more mana. You’ll accumulate it over time, just like you always have since you were born.”

“Sure. But no matter how much mana I accumulate, you can’t grant me another wish. Why can’t you consume my mana a second time and grant me another wish?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Any mana you accumulate moving forward will be tainted by my karma. Let’s go back to the analogy of mana as food. Let’s say you eat a loaf of bread, you digest it, and you dump the waste that’s left over in the toilet. Now, you can physically take that waste and eat it, so why don’t you?”

“Because I don’t eat shit!” I exclaimed angrily.

“And neither do I,” Mort explained. “You can’t eat food that you’ve already digested, and I can’t consume mana from a mortal I’ve already tapped. No other djinn can tap you afterward, either. You wouldn’t eat someone else’s waste, right?”

I didn’t even bother answering Mort’s question.

I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Fine, you can’t grant me another wish. But what if someone else wished for me to be David Rodriguez again?”

“Assuming that person has never been tapped by a djinn before, I can consume their mana and make you a man again.”

I smiled.

“That’s great. All I have to do is give the ring to someone else and have them wish for me to be a man.”

Mort grimaced, looked at the ground, removed his fedora, and scratched the top of his head.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this. I mean, it’s better for me if you hand me off to someone else and I get another round of mana. But I’m not some kind of rascal looking to cause anyone problems. So let me tell you this much. I’ve been doing this long before humanity was a going concern. I was there before your universe began. I’ve granted all kinds of wishes to all kinds of beings on various planes of existence over the millennia. It is a very rare thing for a person to make a completely selfless wish. Presented with the chance to make their fondest fantasy a reality, no matter how crazy it is, most people aren’t inclined to use their wish to help out a pal. I’m not saying it has never happened, but you had better be sure the person who gets the ring next values your wish to become a man over their deepest heart’s desire, because once you give away the ring, there’s no getting it back.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of Mort. I didn’t get the impression that he had intentionally misled me. The way he was acting now showed me that he wasn’t out to hurt me. In fact, he seemed to be looking out for me.

“Good point,” I admitted. “I’ll have to pick someone I can trust.”

Then another thought popped into my head.

“But none of that changes the fact that you didn’t need anyone to make a wish before transforming the bottle into a tulip. How did you do that without mana to consume?”

“I can pull off magic without consuming mana. That’s got nothing to do with being a djinn or with making wishes. Heck, even mortals can perform magic.”

“We can?”

“Oh sure. I mean, you’ve heard of sorcerers, witches, and warlocks. Time was, your world once even had wizards, although I think you people killed most of them off back in the dark ages. And of course, this world is filled with all sorts of non-mortal beings that wield magic: fairies, demons, unicorns, and all that jazz.”

I found Mort’s casual attitude over his fantastic revelations unsettling, but I was too overcome with hope to focus on the implications of his words. I was less concerned with the possibility that fantasy creatures were secretly roaming the world than I was with getting my penis back. I had no reason to doubt his claims, after all I had already met a genie and had my wish granted. In a world where something that crazy was possible, why doubt that other legendary beings were real?

“Do you know where I can find someone who can perform magic?”

Mort stroked his chin.

“A few decades back, there was a gypsy in Baltimore I knew who was pretty good with curses. She was pretty old when I last saw her, and I bet she’s dead by now. That tends to be the problem with all you mortals. I mean, I’ve met a lot of mortals who can perform magic, but I never knew any of them who were able to achieve immortality, although that was a big focus for a lot of them. I would say look in a phone book. Those who wield magic often advertise the fact, the problem is that most mortals don’t take them seriously, you laugh them off as lunatics. And I can’t blame you. Most of them are.”

“And there’s no chance that you can use your magic to transform me the way you did the beer bottle?”

Mort put his fedora back on his head and titled it slightly to the side.

“There’s a world of difference between transforming a bottle of beer into a tulip and changing a mortal’s sex, let alone altering reality to accommodate for that change of sex. No, sweetheart, I can’t transform you back into a man out of the kindness of my heart.”

I paced back and forth in my room anxiously. Like the old saying goes, where there is life, there is hope. Mort may not have given me the answers I wanted to hear, but he did offer me reason to believe that this wasn’t the end of the road for me. First, it was theoretically possible to find someone who could wish to make me a man again. I understood it was asking a lot for someone to use a wish charitably to help someone else, but it was at least a remote possibility. Even if that proved impossible, Mort wasn’t the only being in the world capable of wielding magic. There might be other people or…things out there that could help me.

I didn’t think anyone still published phone books anymore, but I didn’t need one. With a computer, the whole vast library of human knowledge was at my disposal. Surely, I could find someone or something that could help me.

Chapter Twelve

I removed the makeup I had slept in with the moist towelettes I had found on my bathroom counter the day before then took a shower while Mort sat in my room reading one of the romance novels I had on the shelf of my credenza. After I was done grilling him for information, I told him he could do whatever he liked while I got ready. At first it struck me as strange that a genie would choose to read a trashy romance novel, but then I realized that I had no idea what normal behavior was for a genie. In fact, if I did live in a world full of genies, witches, and other magical beings, I was going to have to set aside a lot of preconceptions about the world that I had held throughout my life.

One of the preconceptions I had to set aside was the fantasy that sex as a woman was enjoyable. As I showered, I scrubbed the area between my legs with soap and water multiple times. I wanted to wash away the dried fluids down there, but more than that I wanted to wash away the feeling of Marco being inside of me. I swore to myself that I would never have sex again in this body. If I couldn’t find a way to change back into a man, I would take a vow of celibacy.

As disgusted as I was about what I had done the night before, there was a tiny part of my mind that reluctantly admitted that, up to a point, I had enjoyed the experience. I even thought that if Marco had allowed me to come…no, I refused to let my mind go there. That was the first, last, and only time I would ever degrade myself by allowing another man inside me. That was all there was to it.

I finished showering and blow-dried my hair. I grabbed one of the many hair ties that littered the bathroom counter and used it to put my hair up in a ponytail. Then I dressed in the panties, bra, t-shirt, and jeans I had picked out for myself. I looked at myself in the mirror to make sure nothing private was showing. I approved of my unisex outfit. No one would ever mistake me for a man with my figure, but at least I wasn’t dolled up like a bimbo the way I had been the night before.

Speaking of the night before, I walked over to my medicine cabinet and searched through it. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for. There was a blue rectangular plastic case next to my toothpaste. I opened it. There were several small pills lined up in rows within the case. A small plastic card attached to the inside of the case provided directions on how to take the prescription and included some warnings. I dutifully followed the instructions and swallowed the pill with a handful of water from the sink. I had missed the dose on Friday, but I hoped that Kelly had otherwise taken the birth control pills regularly.

I opened the bathroom door and walked into my bedroom, staring at Mort as he flipped through the pages of a novel titled The Fire of His Loins, which had on the cover the image of a shirtless firefighter staring at a half-dressed blonde girl lying on a bed next to him.

“How is it?” I asked Mort.

“The female mind is an intriguing thing,” Mort said with an air of detachment.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”

I sat down at my desk and turned on my computer. I opened up my web browser and navigated to a search engine. I did some quick research to plan out my day.

It was almost 7:00 a.m. and I still felt like crap. I was hungover and feeling sorry for myself about everything that had happened. But it’s not in my nature to sit on my ass and do nothing even in the face of hopeless odds. Even when things are at their worst, I automatically have to put together some kind of plan. Otherwise, I begin to go up the wall. So instead of sitting in bed all day crying, like I felt like doing, I decided to confront all the problems on my plate.

After I was done gathering the information I needed, I slipped on a pair of low-cut socks, put on the pink canvas shoes I had worn to the mall on my first night as a woman, and hung my purse from my shoulder.

I stepped over to my bedroom door and turned to Mort to say, “I’m going out to run some errands. While I’m gone, feel free to do whatever it is that genies do.”

“Thank you, my benevolent master,” Mort said sardonically. “How generous you are to a lowly wretch such as I.”

I glowered at him.

“I appreciate the sentiment, sweetheart, but like I’ve told you before, my astral form goes wherever the ring goes. I mean, I can travel to Paris or the pyramids of Egypt or the Great Wall of China or wherever, but the essence of me will always be wrapped around your little finger until you hand me off to someone else…or just ditch the ring.”

I examined the turquoise ring on my finger.

“Fine. Whatever. Just stay out of trouble.”

“I could say the same to you,” Mort said as I walked out of my bedroom and closed the door behind me.

I backed my car out of the garage and drove to a pharmacy a few blocks away. I went inside and searched the aisles for what I needed. I expected it to be in the family planning section, but all I found there were condoms, spermicides, and pregnancy tests. I shuddered at the sight of that last item.

Stumped, I walked over to a dowdy middle-aged woman busily stocking shelves and said in a subdued tone, “Excuse me, do you guys carry the morning after pill?”

Without even bothering to look at me, she said, “Ask for it up at the front register, the cashier will give it to you.”

I thanked her and made my way to the checkout counter, grabbing a plastic bottle of water along the way.

I winced when I saw that the cashier was a young man about my age with close-cropped reddish-brown hair and a matching goatee that contrasted with his alabaster skin. His was not a pleasant face to look at, but I wasn’t concerned about his looks. Having to ask a man for emergency contraception was more humiliation than I could endure. But I was desperate, and desperation is a great motivator.

I walked up to the cashier, who couldn’t help but sneak a glance at my breasts, and asked for the morning after pill. He gave me a curious look then grabbed a small cardboard box off the shelf behind him, which was otherwise filled with hard liquor, razor blades, and pricey bottles of perfume and cologne. I suppose the store’s most highly prized items had to be kept in a safe place.

The cashier placed the cardboard box on the counter next to the bottle of water I had put there, rang me up, and said, “That’ll be two-fifty for the water and fifty dollars for the pill.”

I grabbed my credit card from out of my purse and paid what I owed.

“Are you going to need a bag for that?” the cashier asked.

“No thanks,” I said.

He handed me my receipt and I walked toward the exit as quickly as I could, the cashier’s gaze following me out the door. I hoped he was simply checking me out, but I was embarrassed to think his head was filling with all sorts of ideas about what I had been up to the night before that I urgently needed a contraceptive first thing on a Saturday morning. Was life as a woman going to be nothing but an endless series of humiliations?

I got into my car and read the directions and advisories for the pill. I had read online that it was safe to take while using regular birth control and that it was more than ninety-percent effective if taken within forty-eight hours of intercourse. The packaging for the pill verified all of that. With my hands trembling, I placed the pill on my tongue and opened the bottle of water, taking a long drink from it to wash down the pill. I tossed the empty packaging onto the passenger-side seat.

Hopefully the pill would do the trick, because if the unthinkable should happen and I found out that asshole had gotten me pregnant, there was no doubt in my mind that I would get an abortion. As a man, I had believed life began at conception. As a woman, my feelings about when life began hadn’t changed, but there was no way in hell I was going to raise a baby that some piece of shit had put inside me after one night of drunken sex.

I next drove to a clinic I had found online. It was the only one in the area that was open on weekends and provided the services I needed. I made my way to the crowded waiting room and checked-in with the receptionist seated at a desk behind a sliding glass window. I let her know why I was there and gave her my information then took a seat, scrolling through my phone listlessly and trying to avoid making eye contact with the other waiting patients.

After an hour, a nurse called my name and led me into an examination room. She sat down with me and went through a list of screening questions. How many partners had I been with in the past year? When was my last sexual encounter? Did I use contraception? What kind? Did I use drugs? Did I share needles? I answered the slew of questions to the best of my ability, given that I didn’t know Kelly Rodriguez or her regular habits all that well.

When we were done with the screening, she told me that I was considered a high-risk patient. More good news. She explained the tests that would be run and told me that the results would be emailed to me in a few days. Then she went over some government-mandated advisories with me.

Once all the pleasantries were out of the way, she put on some latex gloves, grabbed a couple of syringes, prepped my left arm, and drew blood samples.

I left the clinic feeling anxious about my pending results. A part of me wished that I had not bothered to get tested for sexually transmitted diseases. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. But the more rational part of my mind knew that I would slowly go crazy over the next few days worrying about all the possible diseases my little tryst with Marco might have left me with. I knew I did the right thing in going to the clinic, but as my head swirled with visions of an urgent phone call from the clinic advising me that I had contracted some horrible virus, I knew that I would be on edge until I received that email assuring me that I had a clean bill of health.

I had one more stop to make. I got in my car and used my phone to look up the address I had found online earlier. It seemed like a long shot, but all I had left were long shots.

As I drove away from the clinic, I felt a tear roll down my cheek. This was all so much harder than I had imagined it would be. Life was so unfair. What had I done to deserve this?

I wiped the tear away. No point in crying and feeling sorry for myself. I had to pull it together. There were things that needed doing.

Chapter Thirteen

I parked my car out in front of the modest-looking storefront tucked in between a dry cleaner on one side and a furniture retailer on the other. Its window displays were filled with books and religious relics along with eclectic articles of clothing that included cloaks, caftans, turbans, and headdresses. At first glance, it looked like a bookstore that also traded in novelty items. The name written over the main entrance in large golden letters laid that impression to rest. The gold lettering read, “Madam Zolga’s Occult Science Academy.”

Mort had said that normal people have a tendency to dismiss practitioners of magic as lunatics. It stood to reason that some of the people who professed a belief in the paranormal were not, as I had always assumed, nutcases. Maybe some of them were right. With that in mind, I head searched online for new age spiritual groups, fortunetellers, magic shops, exorcists, ghost hunters and any other organizations that dealt in the paranormal. I knew the idea was ridiculous and I would probably get scammed by a huckster if I wasn’t careful, but I had to try something.

Before I could get out of my car, I received a text message on my phone.

“U ok honey? Haven’t seen u all day.”

It was from Ashley.

I looked at the time. It was nearly noon, and I hadn’t bothered to check in with any of the girls. For all they knew, Marco had taken me out into the woods and cut me into pieces or something.

I wrote back, “Yes, I’m fine. Out running some errands. I’ll be home soon.”

“Good,” Ashley wrote back. “Don’t make me worry about ur skanky ass.”

I felt a little better knowing there was someone worried about me. That wasn’t a familiar feeling, but it was a welcome one.

I stepped out of my car and walked into Madam Zolga’s. A bell hung from the door and rang to announce my presence.

I hadn’t been sure what to expect, but the place reminded me of a high-end antiques store, filled as it was with ornate wooden bookshelves and other furniture loaded with various items ranging from leatherbound books to candles to statuettes to jewelry. The shop was empty except for a woman who stood on a step ladder beside a bookshelf stocked with large glass jars that contained what appeared to be an array of spices and tea leaves. She was a pale-skinned woman with long dark hair and bright blue eyes who appeared to be in her thirties. The glasses she wore perched low along the bridge of her nose gave her an intellectual air, while the flowing burgundy dress and aquamarine vest she wore added a festive flair to her look. She was busy placing a jar full of what looked like cinnamon sticks on the bookshelf, but when she saw me enter, she turned her full attention to me.

I took a few halting steps toward the woman and said, “Excuse me, but I was wondering if you could help me.”

She nodded and put down the jar she was holding. After climbing down from the step ladder on which she had been standing, she gazed at me, lowering her eyes down to my shoes and then raising them slowly to stare into my face.

“Let me guess,” the woman said, “you met a djinn and made a wish, now you want to know if there’s a way to reverse the wish?”

I gasped.

“Yes! That’s right! How did you know?”

“I’m psychic, my dear.”

“You…you can read my mind?” I asked, awe in my voice.

“No,” she said, “I can see your aura. It’s in bad shape, and I know of only one thing that leaves a mark like that. That is the telltale sign of a djinn’s handiwork.”

She came closer to me, and I looked up at her. Like almost everyone else I had met recently, she was taller than me, probably by at least half a foot. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to losing my former height.

The woman glared at my chest and said, “Don’t tell me, you wished for bigger breasts and now you’re stuck with those, is that it?”

“Not quite,” I replied.

“Hmmm. It was a fair guess. That’s one of the most common wishes women make. I’m sure it will come as no surprise to you to learn that the most common wish among men is to increase the size of their penis. And, of course, the most common wish of all is for wealth. I’ve yet to meet anyone who was made any happier by getting any of those wishes granted.”

“Is that true?”

She frowned at me and said, “Why would I lie to a complete stranger?”

“Right, well, I guess I’ll take your word for it. Look, here’s what happened. A few days ago, I was a man named David Rodriguez. When I found the genie, I was pretty drunk, and I didn’t believe he was real. As a sort of lark, I made a wish to be turned into a beautiful girl. The genie did his thing and David Rodriguez ceased to exist and was replaced by Kelly Rodriguez. From what I can tell, he changed things to make it so that I was born a girl, and now no one even remembers who I used to be.”

The woman cocked her head to one side curiously and said, “Ah, you’re one of those. The number of skeptics out there never ceases to amaze me. You would think with all the extraordinary things in the world, people would be a little more open minded when faced with the fantastic. Yet when confronted with magic for the first time, a lot of people refuse to take it seriously and play around with it much like you did.” She waved her hand up and down, sweeping over the length of my body, and added, “Were you a cross-dresser or something? Or were you one of those men who liked to fantasize about being a girl?”

“It was a gag,” I insisted. “I didn’t seriously believe I would become a girl.”

“As you say.” She extended her open hand out toward me. “My name is Erica Zolga, by the way. I’m the proprietor of this establishment. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Rodriguez.”

I shook her hand. “Kelly is fine.”

“Only if you call me Erica. Don’t be embarrassed about your wish. Body swapping and switching genders are also common wishes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Can you help me?”

“I most certainly can,” Erica assured me. “I have several talismans in stock that can ward off djinn. Those miserable creatures bring trouble with them wherever they go.”

“Yeah, I learned that the hard way. But that’s not what I mean. What I’m asking is, can you help me become a man again?”

“Oh, that. This thing you’re asking for, it’s not a question with a simple answer. Imagine walking up to a physicist at a university and asking him if he can help you build a nuclear power plant. Is such a thing possible? Yes, in theory. Is such a thing practical? That depends. Do you have the time, money, skill, and other resources necessary to accomplish the task?”

“Please, Erica, I’m begging you, give me a simple yes or no answer. Can you turn me back into a man?”

Erica shook her head.

“No. I lack the skill for that kind of transformation. Moreover, the djinn who granted your wish was unusually thorough. Whenever someone makes a wish to be transformed into another person, djinn typically do no more than change their physical form. The person’s new form generally has no identity or history, they just appear out of thin air. It’s rare for a djinn to go through the trouble of altering reality to accommodate a new identity. There are beings in this world who can transform you into a man, but very few of them can alter reality to give you back your old life. Those beings who possess such power are not the sort to trust easily.”

“Why not?”

“Power corrupts in all its forms, that’s true whether we’re talking about money, politics, beauty, smarts, or magic. The sort of thing you’re asking for comes at a high price. I mean, a demon could probably do it in exchange for your immortal soul. Some witches possess sufficient power to make it happen, and they may only ask for a human sacrifice. And a unicorn will grant you a wish if you save its life, but that’s probably not going to happen.”

“Saving a unicorn’s life doesn’t sound so bad. Do you know where I could find one?”

She laughed.

“Yes, I do, but unicorns are extremely powerful creatures. Anything that could threaten a unicorn’s life would destroy you easily. I’m afraid you don’t understand the enormity of what you’re asking for.”

My conversation with Erica was giving me a headache. A few days ago, my biggest problems in life had been my enduring virginity, dealing with obnoxious coworkers, and having to live with catty roommates. Now I was talking to a psychic about magic and unicorns so I could figure out how to reverse a genie’s wish. There was a sharp, throbbing pain at my temples. My brain could not handle all this weirdness.

Despite all that, I wasn’t ready to give up.

I looked into Erica’s eyes and said, “Then can you at least help me to understand? Can you teach me about magic? If I can’t reverse this wish, then I want to at least understand what I’m dealing with. I mean, in the last couple of days I’ve learned that there’s this whole hidden magical world I never knew about. Is there like a textbook I can read to explain it or something? Maybe an encyclopedia?”

Erica nodded and pointed a finger at me.

“I can help you there. Knowledge, after all, is a greater form of power than magic.”

Erica walked over to a nearby bookshelf and removed a book bound in black leather with gold letters on the cover. She handed it to me, and I saw that the words on the cover stated simply The Treatise.

“You’re not handing me the Necronomicon, are you?” I asked as I took the book and opened it to the first page.

“I hardly think you’re ready for that. No, this is a primer on magic. It won’t teach you to cast spells or anything like that, but it’ll explain some basic concepts that you need to know to understand magic, what it is and how it works.”

Written on the first page of the book was the full title, it read Professor Erik Weisz’s Learned Treatise on the Origins of Aether and Other Cosmological Forces that Affect the Natural World. That was quite a lofty title, but when I recognized the name, I raised my head and stared at Erica.

“You’re giving me a book written by Harry Houdini? The guy was a magician. I’m not an idiot, I’m not going to fall for this.”

“I’m not giving you a book written by Harry Houdini,” Erica corrected me. “I’m selling you a book written by Harry Houdini. And please don’t use that ridiculous stage name. Professor Weisz was one of the greatest magicians in the history of mankind. To think that people only remember him for those parlor tricks he performed to fund his research. He was a brilliant man, and this book will explain the basic mechanics of magic as it is practiced by mortals.”

“Fine,” I said with heavy resignation in my voice. If Erica was hustling me, it could hardly put me in a worse position. “How much is it?”

“Two hundred and fifty dollars,” she said.

“That’s outrageous.”

“Knowledge is power,” she reminded me.

“Do you accept credit cards?”

“Of course. Are you going to need a bag for that?”

“No thanks.”

After I paid her, Erica said, “Now that’s dense reading material and it will probably take you a while to get through it, and more than a few people curious about magic have declined to pour through Professor Weisz’s entire work. But if you do manage to finish the whole thing, I imagine you’ll want to come back and ask me some more questions. Please do, I’m more than happy to offer additional education.”

“At a price, of course.”

“At a price,” she said with a nod.

Chapter Fourteen

I spent the afternoon reading the Treatise at a coffee shop down the street from Erica’s place. As she had warned me, it was hardly an easy read. But the first few chapters convinced me that I had not been scammed.

The book began by describing the various forces that flowed through the universe and the effects they had on one another. I was surprised to find that gravity and space-time were among the subjects discussed alongside aether, karma, and other forces I had never heard of before. The subject of mana was of particular interest to me given my earlier discussion with Mort. The Treatise read like a textbook on biology, chemistry, or physics, it took a serious, straightforward approach to its subject. Overall, the book explained a lot, although it raised even more questions.

According to Houdini, magic was simply the product of the manipulation of some of the forces he described in the book. There were various principles that one who wished to practice magic had to carefully observe. The book was intended to explain those principles.

It did not take me long to realize that by asking Mort and Erica to change me back into a man, I was like a caveman who had just discovered fire asking a modern day math teacher to build me an airplane. Magic was far more complicated than speaking a few words in Latin or cooking up a potion that included eye of newt. By reading the Treatise, I became aware of a whole world of information that I didn’t understand, and it was going to be a challenge to learn about it all and overcome my ignorance. In the end, there was no guarantee that I would learn enough to be able to get my old life back.

I received several texts and phone calls while I was at the coffee shop. People whose names I didn’t recognize were checking in to see what I was up to and asking if I wanted to go out that night. Some of them were men, others apparently Kelly’s girlfriends. She was a popular girl, all right. And here I was trying to figure out how to get rid of her.

As the evening drew near, I found myself unable to focus on the text, and no number of lattes could keep my eyes pried open. I decided to take a break and return home.

I parked my car in the townhouse’s garage and walked up the stairs into the kitchen.

“Kelly, is that you?” Becky called from the living room.

“It’s me,” I said as I continued up the stairs to the second floor.

Becky and Emma stepped into the kitchen.

“Where have you been all day, honey?” Becky said. “We’ve been worried about you. Did something happen with that guy last night?”

I stopped walking up the stairs and turned to look at both of them. They were dressed in sweats and pajamas, expressions of concern etched into their faces.

“I don’t feel like talking about it,” I said.

“Don’t be like that,” Emma said. “If something happened, you can tell us. It’s not like you to disappear on us like that.”

I swallowed hard. I had no desire to talk about what was bothering me, but I didn’t want to upset them. It was obvious they cared about me, and I didn’t feel right dismissing their concerns.

“I…uh…I had sex with that guy.”

I hadn’t realized just how ashamed I was about what had happened the night before until I forced the words out of my mouth. I felt like I was confessing to a crime.

“And?” Becky said.

“Yeah, did he not want to leave after it was over or something?” Emma asked.

I’m not sure what sort of response I had been expecting, but that wasn’t it.

“No…I didn’t plan for that to happen and afterward…I felt…it wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“Oh my god,” Becky said, “was he not able to get it up? You guys drank a lot before you left the club. That can make it tough for a guy to perform.”

With some irritation in my voice, I said, “Look, I don’t have sex with a man every day, it was a weird experience for me. I wasn’t ready for it.”

A puzzled expression filled Becky’s face.

“What do you mean? You hook up with guys all the time. No one is judging you, honey, but it’s not like last night was your first rodeo. You’re acting like you lost your virginity or something. Normally, after you bring a guy home and kick him out of bed in the morning, you can’t wait to give us the rundown on what he was like. Today, you run off at the crack of dawn and disappear all day. We thought he might have hurt you or something.”

I was growing frustrated. I couldn’t think of any way to explain to them that I wasn’t the person they thought I was. Yes, it was difficult to adjust to life as a woman. It was even more difficult to assume the life of a total stranger, with everyone in my life having completely alien expectations about me. There was so much I didn’t know about the person I had become. Maybe the Kelly they knew was used to taking random men to bed with her, but this Kelly wasn’t. On top of everything else I was dealing with, now I had to figure out who I was, a stranger in a strange life.

“I’m fine,” I said. “You guys don’t need to worry.”

“Okay,” Emma said. “What do you have there?”

Emma and Becky stared at the book I was holding in my hands.

“Uh…it’s a self-help book. I need to change who I am. I think this book will help me do that.”

Emma and Becky exchanged curious looks with one another.

“Well, okay, sweetie,” Emma said. “If you feel like talking, we’ll be here.”

With that, I continued climbing the stairs and went into my bedroom.

I tossed the Treatise on my desk, turned on the television, and found a baseball game, then crawled onto my bed. After watching a couple of innings, I was pleased to learn that my sex change hadn’t affected my interest in sports. That made sense. Plenty of women enjoyed sports. No reason that being full of estrogen rather than testosterone should change that. What did change was the fact that I now found myself checking out the players. There was no getting around it, even when I tried to relax by watching a game, it was impossible to ignore the way my transformation had changed me.

There was a knock on the door and Ashley stepped inside.

“Hey, baby,” she said. “Becky and Emma told me you had finally come home. I wanted to see how you were doing. Sounds like you had kind of a rough night.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

Ashley walked over to my bed and sat beside me.

“Oh, honey, I know it’s none of my business, but it’s tough not to say something when I see you like this. If you’re having fun living it up like you did last night, I get it. I just don’t think it’s good for you.”

I sighed.

“You’re preaching to the choir,” I said. “Ashley, this is difficult for me to explain. I’m not the person you think I am. In the last couple of days, I’ve changed. This is not my life. It’s someone else’s life. And I don’t want it. Unfortunately, this is the life I’m stuck with. Everyone has all these ideas about me, but they don’t know who I am. They only think they do. They see me as this girl who acts a certain way and does certain things. That’s not who I really am, though. I know this makes zero sense, I’m sure I sound crazy, but it’s the best way I can think to explain it.”

Ashley put her hand on my shoulder and said, “It makes perfect sense, Kelly. You’re not the first person to feel that way. Sometimes the difference between the way we see ourselves and the way other people see us can come as a shock. If you’re not happy about something you’re doing, you can change it up whenever you want. It’s your life, honey, and you decide what you make out of it.”

I knew there was no way to make her understand. I suppose I could have summoned Mort and had him explain to her about djinn and wishes and mana and magic and all the fantastic things I had learned about in the last few days. What good would it have done? It would probably have scared her. I mean, it wasn’t as if learning about those things had improved my life.

Anyway, it wasn’t important to explain that stuff to her. The important thing was that Ashley was concerned about me and wanted to make me feel better. The funny thing was, just by letting me know that she cared about me, she actually had made me feel better.

I looked over at Ashley, saw the affection she had for me reflected in her eyes. Her kindness touched me deep down in a place that I had not known existed, and all the anger, fear, and anxiety I had been dealing with all day began to seep out of me. Tears flowed from my eyes and trickled down my cheeks. I closed my eyes and lay my head on Ashley’s lap.

“I let that guy fuck me, Ashley,” I whimpered. “He used me. I let him use me. I feel so dirty. I thought I was having fun, but when I woke up this morning, all I felt was shame. This isn’t who I want to be. This isn’t the life I want. But I’m trapped like this with no way out.”

Ashley ran her fingers through my hair as she stroked my head.

“It’s all right, honey, there’s no reason to feel ashamed over it. If you want to sleep with someone, that’s your choice. Never let anyone make you feel bad about sex. It’s sounds to me, though, like that’s not what you wanted. That’s okay, too. That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”

“It sure as fuck felt wrong,” I said. “All of this feels wrong.”

“You’re a grown woman. You make your choices. It’s fine to regret some of those choices. Learn from them.”

I sat up in bed and wiped away my tears. Then I gave Ashley a hug.

“Thanks. I’ve been feeling like shit all day. I feel better knowing you don’t think I’m a slut for what I did.”

Ashley wrapped her arms tight around me and said, “Get over it, honey. You’re a girl who made a mistake. It happens to the best of us. You’re still awesome in my book.”

Ashley looked over at the television.

“Why are you watching baseball?”

I let go of her and plopped back down on the bed.

“I’ve always watched baseball.”

“Since when?”

“There are a lot of things about me that you don’t know,” I said. “You may be in for a few surprises.”

“You always surprise me, baby. Speaking of which, I have a surprise for you. Emma and Becky want to go to the beach tomorrow. Get some sleep, we want to head out early tomorrow to beat the traffic.”

“Sounds like fun,” I said. “What time will we get back?”

“I don’t know. Why? Do you have big plans for tomorrow?”

“It’s Sunday. The Mustangs are playing the Phantoms in the afternoon. I want to watch the game on television.”

“You mean a football game?”

“Yes, that’s the idea.”

Ashley giggled.

“You are so weird.”

Ashley gave me another quick hug then got up and walked out of my room.

I lay on my bed after she left. Yes, I was weird. And I got the feeling things were about to get a whole lot weirder.

Chapter Fifteen

That night, I had more strange dreams.

I saw a younger version of myself as Kelly, about the age of twelve, standing in the bathroom of my childhood home staring at my flat chest in the mirror, a forlorn look on my face.

“When am I going to grow boobs?” I asked my younger self rhetorically.

Clearly, I had no idea what I was in for.

By way of my dreams, I lived through days and weeks of my adolescence as Kelly. I lived in the same house I had grown up in as David with my parents and two older brothers. I was intrigued by the way my family dynamic changed because I was a girl. As David, I had spent a lot of time with my brothers helping my father fix cars at the repair shop he owned. As Kelly, on the other hand, I spent the bulk of my time helping my mother with the cooking, dishwashing, housecleaning, and laundry. My childhood as Kelly was otherwise similar to my childhood as David, except of course that I spent more of my time hanging out with the girls in my neighborhood rather than the boys.

There was one exception. As David, when I was young, I had been bullied by this kid named Randall who lived up the street from me. He was a big fifteen-year-old brute who spent his time lifting weights in his backyard and fighting other boys to prove how tough he was. He had knocked me around in the alleyway behind my house once after he had found me talking to his girlfriend, Nicole, a girl that I had a crush on. I was shocked to learn that, as Kelly, I had developed a crush on Randall. I secretly watched him work out from my bedroom window. Eventually, I caught Randall’s eye and I snuck away with him to the alleyway where we made out. I was crazy about him. That was why I didn’t hesitate one day when he asked me to do something for him that he had seen a girl do in an adult movie he had found online. When the two of us were alone in Randall’s bedroom, he lowered his pants and I dropped to my knees in front of him. I think I enjoyed it more than he did. I did that for Randall several times and kept making out with him until he met Nicole, a girl that he liked better. Nicole came up to me after school one day and threatened to kick my ass if I ever went near Randall again. Broken-hearted, I ran home and cried.

Flash forward a couple of years and I was about fourteen, having filled out dramatically to my present proportions. I was enrolled at Saint Mary’s, a Catholic high school for girls. That struck me as interesting because, as David, I had gone to a Catholic high school for boys called Bishop Morton’s. The two schools were only a few blocks apart and the boys from Bishop Morton’s had often dropped by to visit the girls at Saint Mary’s, so I had been somewhat familiar with Saint Mary’s as David.

I looked ridiculous in the uniform the girls at Saint Mary’s wore, a gray skirt and red polo shirt. I saw myself attending classes and earning good grades. I seemed popular with my classmates, not something that had been true of me in high school as David.

One day, I went with some of the other girls at school to Bishop Morton’s to try out for their cheerleading team. Because of course there were no girls at Bishop Morton’s, they recruited girls from other high schools to serve as cheerleaders for their football team. The other girls and I eagerly performed for the cheerleading staff and were elated when we made the team. I saw myself show up each Friday night to the sidelines of Bishop Morton’s football field to cheer.

I thought that was funny considering that, as David, I had played a couple of seasons as a running back for Bishop Morton’s football team. I spent most of that time getting knocked flat on my ass by opposing teams before being replaced by a guy named Carlos who managed to stay on his feet more often than I did. Carlos was an arrogant asshole who constantly sought the limelight, which made it that much more difficult for me to accept that he was the better player. I spent the rest of my time on the team as a benchwarmer before quitting.

As Kelly, I eventually became cheer captain. I had fun performing routines for the crowd with my fellow cheerleaders, but what I really enjoyed was checking out the guys on the football team. Although most of the boys on the team flirted with me, my heart was set on the team’s star running back, Carlos. I caught his eye and the two of us became very cozy. We spent all our time together, walking hand-in-hand at the mall or strolling through the park or watching a movie or going for a swim at the beach. We made out constantly and I had no reservations about doing for him the same thing I had done for Randall on so many occasions. We were in love, and I decided that I wanted Carlos to be the man who made a woman out of me. It was awkward the first time we made love in my bedroom while my family was out of the house, the two of us rushing to get our clothes off and fumbling through the deed, but it was sweet and tender in its own way. We got better at it after plenty of practice. As my relationship with Carlos progressed, I began to entertain ideas of a future together, even daydreaming about our wedding.

Carlos and I dated throughout high school, but after we graduated, Carlos joined the military and broke up with me. Broken-hearted once again, I wept over my loss. The summer between high school and college dragged on in my dreams because of my heart ache.

Then came the day when my parents drove me to college and helped me move into my dorm. They were sorry to see me go, but they were also very proud of me. That part wasn’t too different from what my experience as David had been like. Everything that followed in my college experience was a different story.

As David, my college roommate had been a finance major from Pittsburgh named Paul, a handsome blond-haired, blue-eyed frat boy who attended on a lacrosse scholarship. We got along all right, but we were far from friends. He and his lacrosse teammates would play beer pong and chase girls while I spent most of my time studying alone in the library or hanging out with a group of guys majoring in computer science and engineering. The only thing that really bothered me about Paul was the fact that he forced me to sleep in my dorm’s recreation room whenever he used our room to sleep with his girlfriend, an airhead named Molly who had a reputation for sleeping around.

My time in college as David was spent hanging out with other socially awkward young men, playing video games online, and watching porn. I had aspirations of pursuing a degree in engineering, but my math scores were abysmal, and I ended up majoring in history. The only other noteworthy consequence of my college career was that I took up drinking as a hobby to cope with my boredom and to dull the pain of my loneliness.

As Kelly, I was roommates with Molly. She was not as academically talented as I was, but we were both ex-cheerleaders, shared a passion for cooking, and liked to work out. From those common interests, we quickly developed a strong bond. She was the one who introduced me to Paul at a fraternity party, and it was love at first sight.

Or at least we made love the first night that we met. From then on, I was Paul’s girl, and my world revolved around him. Whenever we were apart, I would count the minutes until I could see him again. I would spoil him by cooking fancy meals for him in the kitchenette of my dorm’s common room. He always made me laugh when we were together, and I felt comfortable sharing everything about myself with him. The sex was incredible. I was nervous the first time he wanted me to try anal, but once I saw how much he enjoyed it, I eagerly offered it to him whenever I wanted to get him excited. After that, I never hesitated to do anything he asked of me in the bedroom.

I had never been as happy at any time in my life as those days when Paul and I were together.

Then on one horrible night during another fraternity party, I walked in on him in bed with another girl. It was the worst moment of my life, made even worse over the next few days as I learned from word of mouth that she was only the latest girl, that he had been with others. I spent days alone in bed crying in agony over the betrayal. I had never trusted anyone as much as I had trusted Paul, had never loved anyone as deeply. Molly watched over me and comforted me, slowly helping me to recover.

When I was strong enough to handle it, Molly and I went out and partied hard. Being a promiscuous girl herself, she taught me that the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else. I spent the rest of my time in college partying, drinking, and hooking up with as many different men as I could find. It helped dull the pain of the heartbreak, but it didn’t fill the void that grew within me. Worse still, my new approach to college life hurt my grades, and after failing some critical classes I had to switch my major from engineering to history in order to graduate on time.

As these dreams filtered through my mind’s eye, I came to understand that they weren’t dreams at all, but rather memories. I awoke with that sudden revelation, finding that it was the middle of the night, and the television was still blaring, the baseball game now replaced by an infomercial. I turned off the television and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

The contrast between my life as David and my life as Kelly was unsettling on multiple levels.

To begin with, I was embarrassed that as Kelly, I had given myself to guys that I had resented as David. Randall, Carlos, and Paul. David had an axe to grind with all of them. Yet Kelly had loved each of them in turn, had her heart broken by all three. It was humiliating to have been used by former rivals that way.

But despite the embarrassment I felt over the altered nature of my relationships with each of the three, as I reflected on my new memories as Kelly, I couldn’t avoid thinking that those relationships had somehow been more fulfilling as Kelly. Yes, Kelly had been hurt by all three boys. On the other hand, none of them had ever held David, kissed him, told him they loved him. Kelly had felt what it was like to be loved by them, desired by them, even worshipped by them. The memory of those feelings was pleasant, notwithstanding the pain that followed.

I don’t know, maybe if David had ever been in love, then it would be a different story. But he had never experienced love like that. Maybe he never would have experienced love like that. It was impossible to say.

It was difficult for me to admit it to myself, but if I were being perfectly honest, I had done better as a woman than as a man. Not only had I been better off as a girl, but I had been better at being a girl. Kelly was an object of love, of desire, of devotion. She wasn’t perfect, but men wanted her. David? He was a perennial loner. Who wanted him? Who needed him? Most of the time, he didn’t even want to be around himself.

I thought back to what Marco had said that night at the club, about how I must not have made for much of a man. It was true.

They say it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. The contrast between my life as Kelly Rodriguez and my life as David Rodriguez highlighted the poignancy of those words. The heart ache through which Kelly had suffered on occasion was nowhere near as painful as the self-imposed isolation through which David had suffered all his life.

Chapter Sixteen

It took me a long time to go back to sleep after I woke up in the middle of the night. Thankfully, I had no further dreams that night, which was good for my sanity’s sake.

When I woke up again in the morning, my alarm clock told me that it was 6:00 a.m. I got out of bed, and before doing anything else, I called out to Mort. There was a familiar puff of black smoke and suddenly Mort was standing in front of me, smiling warmly.

He doffed his cap theatrically, bowed, and asked, “How may I be of service to you this fine morning, my dear?”

“Well, since you can’t make me a man again, how about we start by you telling me what you know about these dreams I’ve been having?”

“Dreams?” Mort said, putting his hat back on his head. “What dreams?”

“Ever since you granted my wish, whenever I go to sleep, I have these vivid dreams of my life as Kelly. Dreams of being a child, a teenager, a college student. Different points in life. Only I don’t think they’re dreams. I think they’re memories of things that actually happened to Kelly.”

“Ah, it sounds like you’ve been having reverse amnesia. That sort of thing can happen when reality changes around you. You see, sweetheart, there’s a whole lifetime’s worth of memories that are a part of the new you. You didn’t live through those memories firsthand, that’s why you can’t remember them like you can the memories of your old life. But those memories are in there. They’ll seep in gradually. For a while, they may even seep in through your dreams.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that sooner?”

Mort shrugged.

“Forgive me, I thought it was all mentioned in the user’s manual.”

I sighed in irritation.

“Where have you been, anyway?”

“Oh, I’ve been roaming throughout the earth, going back and forth on it. Don’t worry, though, you always have me wrapped around your little finger, as long as you’ve still got that ring.”

I eyed Mort warily.

“I met a psychic the other day who warned me that djinn are troublesome creatures. She told me to avoid them.”

“She sounds like a smart woman,” Mort said. “Too bad for you that you didn’t meet her sooner, no?”

“I agree.”

“Come now,” Mort said. “I’m only teasing. Djinn are no different than any other beings. Some of us are good, some of us are bad, most of us are just trying to get by.”

I took a moment to think.

“Mort, if you had a wish, what would you wish for?”

“That’s an easy one. I would wish for more mana.”

“What about your freedom? Wouldn’t you wish for that?”

“Freedom? I’m already free. What would be the point in wishing for that?”

“I mean freedom from the ring,” I said. “That way, you wouldn’t have to grant wishes for people, and you could go do whatever you want.”

“I already do whatever I want, sweetheart. I’m not trapped in the ring. I’m not your slave. That’s not how it works. My true form exists on one plane of existence, I travel here through a tear in the fabric of reality that takes the form of the ring, but it’s really a gateway between worlds. I take advantage of it to get what I need, but I’m not chained to it. My astral form can travel anywhere in the cosmos at any time. I’m as free as a bird, sister.”

“Oh,” I said. “So you don’t have to show up when I call you?”

“I don’t show up when you call me. The essence of me is always with the ring. I go where it goes no matter where I am. Or rather, I should say, as long as you have the ring, you’re always here with me.”

“That’s confusing. Where are you right now?”

“You think that’s confusing? Imagine trying to wrap you head around my plane of existence. I couldn’t begin to explain it to you. The reality where I exist is nothing like yours. Our version of space-time, for example, doesn’t move in one direction like yours does. Sometimes it goes backwards and other times sideways. That’s why from your perspective, djinn are immortal. From our perspective, mortals only exist in a few spots on a spectrum.”

I shook my head and shoved Mort aside as I walked toward the bathroom.

“This is why I avoid talking to you, Mort. You make no sense.”

Mort laughed.

“You got moxie, sweetheart. That’s what I like about you.”

I used the bathroom, took a shower, and brushed my teeth. After I had dried off, I put on the pink bathrobe and searched through my dresser drawers. It didn’t take me long before I found a powder blue string bikini.

“Going for a swim?” Mort asked as he peered over my shoulder.

“Can you buzz off for a while?”

Mort smiled and nodded.

“For you? Always?”

He disappeared in a puff of smoke. Or at least it appeared that way. Our conversation left me wondering about whether he ever really left. And if he did leave, I wondered where he would go. If djinn occupied some other plane of existence, what must that be like?

I decided to put Mort and his supernatural lifestyle out of my mind while I prepared for my day at the beach with the girls.

I put on the bikini and examined myself in the mirror. It was of course quite revealing, but I was going to the beach, and I doubted that there was any swimsuit I could wear that wouldn’t leave me feeling naked. After all, wasn’t that the point of women’s swim wear, to leave them as exposed as possible? It sure seemed that way.

I found a pair of white denim shorts and a floral print blouse in hues of blue and pink and put them on over the bikini. I slipped on a pair of flip flops, grabbed my purse, and walked downstairs.

Emma was downstairs dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and a green tank top eating cereal and watching the morning news on television. I grabbed a bowl of bran cereal myself and joined her while we waited for Ashley and Becky.

“Feeling better?” Emma asked.

I nodded. “A good night’s sleep can do wonders.”

An hour later, all four of us were ready and we packed into Becky’s worn-down Jeep and drove to the beach. When we got there, it was early enough in the morning that the sun didn’t beat down on us too hard. Ashley and I undressed in the parking lot, just a few feet from the sand, while Emma went into the bathroom to change into her one-piece. Becky had driven to the beach in her bikini.

We walked over the warm sand and staked out a spot near the surf by laying out our towels. There were only a few other people near us, most of them couples or families. We lathered each other in sunscreen then went in for a dip.

“Fuck, it’s cold!” I exclaimed as the freezing water flowed over my toes.

“Don’t be a pussy!” Becky shouted. “Jump in and you’ll get used to it!”

Becky charged into the water, diving straight into the rolling tide and swimming nearly a hundred yards out. Emma walked into the water until she was waist-deep in it. I held Ashley’s hand as we slowly followed after them.

Before long, I adjusted to the water temperature and swam out alongside Becky, racing her to and from the shore. The four of us swam and splashed water on each other, frolicking along the surf like kids. Emma had brought a volleyball and we took turns passing it around to each other. After a while, we lay on our towels lazily, enjoying the feel of the sun and the cool sea breeze on our skin.

Around noon we packed up our things and walked over to the nearby boardwalk where we had lunch at a bar and grill with a large outdoor patio full of tables. We ordered burgers and a pitcher of beer. We talked and laughed about stupid, trivial things. I had fun and was feeling much better than I had the day before. Whatever else was true, I enjoyed spending time with the girls.

Then a thought occurred to me.

“If you guys could wish for anything in the world, what would you wish for?” I asked.

“Bigger boobs,” Emma said.

Becky and Ashley giggled.

“I’m serious,” I said.

“So am I,” Emma insisted. “You’re so lucky, Kelly. I would love to have boobs like yours. I mean, yeah, I could get a boob job, but implants never look real, and the fake boob thing is so tacky. To have big, natural boobies, that’s what I want.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Big boobs are overrated, honey. If I could trade you yours for mine, I would do it in a heartbeat. You’re welcome to the back pain and stares from horny creeps.”

“It’s a deal,” she said excitedly.

“If I could wish for anything in the world,” Becky said, “I would wish for fame and fortune. I’d wish to be an actress or celebrity. I’d live in a huge mansion and spend my life looking down on all the little people who made me.”

“Okay, cool, you’d wish to be a wealthier, cuntier version of yourself,” I said with a smirk.

“Eat my ass, bitch,” Becky said.

“What about you, Ashley?” I asked.

Ashley put her chin in her hand and darted her eyes back and forth for a few moments.

“I’d wish to be a man,” she said.

I laughed in astonishment.

“Why?”

“Men get the better end of the deal,” Ashley explained. “They can fuck whoever they want whenever they want without having to worry about getting knocked up or being called a slut. They can choose to have kids at whatever age they want. If they choose not to have kids at all, people envy them instead of looking down on them. They can be arrogant, self-absorbed assholes and everyone celebrates them for it. For men, life is easy and consequence free.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “Being a man is hard. You’re always fighting with other guys for respect, women never respect you unless you have money or influence, and no one ever offers you a helping hand. Life as a man is an endless struggle to keep your head above water. And if you ever breakdown or feel sorry for yourself, everyone thinks of you as a loser.”

“No,” Emma said, “I’m with Ashley. Guys have it easy, they have no idea how much harder everything is for women.”

“Naw,” Becky interjected. “I don’t think so. Think how much it must suck to have your junk dangling around between your legs all day. They must itch and sweat down there like crazy. Dudes have gross stuff going on with their bodies. The male body is just nastier all around than a woman’s body.”

“What are you, a dyke?” Ashley said.

“I’m not the one who wants a sex change,” Becky retorted.

The conversation went along those lines until we paid the bill and drove home. My attempt to gain some insight into whether I could trust any of the girls to use the ring to turn me into a man bore little fruit.

Chapter Seventeen

After we got back home, Becky and Emma took showers and went out to watch a movie. I decided to stay home, and Ashley offered to keep me company. We both sat on the couch wearing shorts and bikini tops as I turned on the television.

“What are we watching?” Ashley asked.

“I told you, I want to watch the football game.”

“Seriously? You weren’t joking?”

“No, I wasn’t joking. Are you going to watch with me or are you going to be a bitch about it?”

“I’ll watch,” Ashley said, “but I don’t know a damn thing about football.”

“That’s fine, I can teach you.”

As the game got started, I explained some of the basic rules to Ashley. The look on her face indicated that she didn’t follow what I was saying.

Toward the end of the first quarter, she asked me, “If they get four chances to move the ball ten yards, why do they always kick the ball away on the fourth try? Like, why just give it to the other team?”

“Because if they don’t gain the necessary yardage on fourth down, it’ll result in a turnover and the opposing team will take possession of the ball at the same spot, so it’s usually better to punt to improve field position for the defense.”

“I see,” Ashley said.

I appreciated that Ashley was willing to humor me. She was obviously out of her element but nevertheless put up with the game for my sake. I would have to think of a way to make it up to her later.

I was having fun watching the game. It took my mind off my troubles. Or it almost did. My body went back to its new habit of getting excited over the sight of physically imposing men as I eyed the players. The tingling between my legs grew especially intense whenever the camera crew shot close ups of the Mustangs quarterback Mac Kirkland. I had been a huge fan of Mac’s for a long time, but I had never noticed how cute he was with his wild mane of blond hair and bright blue eyes. There was no point in trying to deny that I was strongly attracted to him, and I didn’t mind accepting that fact. What bothered me was that my imagination kept wondering what it would feel like to have his hands caressing my skin, running over my arms and legs, and my…well, it went on from there. It was a distracting impulse.

“The guy who throws the ball for the Mustangs is hot as fuck,” Ashley said when Mac was on the screen.

“Yeah, I hadn’t noticed.”

“How could you not? The man looks like a Greek god. Fuck, I can see why you like to watch this game.”

The camera panned over the cheerleaders on the sidelines as they did several routines for the crowd at the stadium. Not for the first time, I focused on their breasts and butts and legs to try and feel something at the sight of them, to no avail. They looked too soft and lumpy and did nothing for me. I wanted big, hard muscles. Or at least my pussy got wet at the thought of big, hard muscles.

“Did you know I used to be a cheerleader in high school?” I said trying to change the subject.

“No, you never mentioned that. Is that what got you into football?”

“I guess.”

“Did you ever go out with any players?”

“Yeah, my boyfriend in high school was a running back.”

“Well, if he looked anything like that guy, I completely understand why you went out with him,” she said as Mac appeared on the screen again. “How come you never mentioned any of this before?”

“I only found out last night,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, uh, I was thinking about it the other night. You know…remembering it. I was thinking back to my high school days the other night. Those were good times.”

“Oh.”

During half-time, the camera crew focused on images of the new Mustangs owner, the famous tech guru Ethan Zuckerman, and his family as they watched the game from the owner’s box at the stadium. Ethan was a nerdy, middle-aged man with a receding hairline dressed in an expensive-looking business suit and he did absolutely nothing for me, thankfully. I felt bad for his wife, though, the notorious porn star Lexi Zuckerman who the tabloids dubbed “Sexy Lexi,” a gorgeous blonde girl with an amazing figure who looked nearly half his age. She was dressed in a skin-tight team jersey and a pair of denim shorts and five-inch heels that matched the team’s color scheme. She had become world famous by posting her adult movies on Ethan’s social media website, FanFaves, and supposedly that was how they had met. Lexi had a sad look on her face as she kept her distance from Ethan and watched the game with their five sons. Why had she married a guy like that when a woman with her looks could do so much better?

“I feel sorry for Lexi,” I told Ashley. “Imagine looking like her and going to bed with a guy like her husband?”

“I’m sure she feels sorry for girls like us. Girls like Sexy Lexi are happy to trade their pussies for cash. I mean, Lexi got famous by making porn and posting it on Zuckerman’s website. I bet she doesn’t care who drills her holes as long as she gets to live in the lap of luxury.”

“I don’t know. Would you be happy as some trophy wife?”

“It’s not for me,” Ashley conceded. “It’s not for a lot of girls. But for an airheaded bimbo like Sexy Lexi, I’m sure she thinks of her life as paradise on earth.”

My exchange with Ashley served to remind me how I now faced different power dynamics as Kelly than I had as David. As David, becoming a man like Ethan Zuckerman was probably never a realistic option. I couldn’t be a powerful billionaire who could get his hands on anything he wanted, a man who never took no for an answer. As Kelly, however, I now had the option of becoming a woman like Sexy Lexi by finding a sugar daddy who would take care of me and provide me with anything I asked for in exchange for surrendering my pussy to him whenever he wanted it. I was happy to say that the idea of becoming a trophy wife was no more appealing to me than it was to Ashley. Sexy Lexi could keep her gilded cage.

Of course, if I had made a wish to be a billionaire instead of a girl, then it might have been me up there in that owner’s box instead of Ethan Zuckerman. I sighed in regret at that thought.

The game ended in a win for the Mustangs over the Phantoms, leading me to squeal with delight. I felt a little embarrassed by the overly feminine response to the victory, but I was a girl and a former cheerleader, so embarrassing or not, it was appropriate.

After the game, I agreed to help Ashley prepare dinner for the two of us. As David, I had never learned to cook, but my dreams as Kelly had shown me enough about cooking so that I thought I could handle it. We took a quick trip to the supermarket and then came home to grill some salmon and prepare mixed vegetables and white rice for sides. It wasn’t a tough dish by any means and with some guidance from Ashley, I managed to help with the meal without looking like I was lost. In fact, it was a lot easier than I thought it would be.

After dinner, I went up to my room while Ashley kept watching television in the living room. I read the Treatise for a few hours, but I gradually found my thoughts drifting back to Mac Kirkland and his massive biceps. I felt myself getting moist between my legs. I tried to ignore my arousal, but I was no better at ignoring my horniness in Kelly’s body than I had been in David’s.

I put down the Treatise and picked up my phone. I searched for one of my favorite porno videos online. I played the video and watched a big guy dressed in a football player’s uniform stroll into a locker room with Sexy Lexi dressed in a cheerleader’s outfit. They briefly exchanged some dialogue about how he had won the game and now she had to fulfill her promise. Sexy Lexi was soon sucking off the football player, staring up at him as she knelt in front of him, holding his massive cock with one hand, occasionally pulling it out of her mouth to smile sweetly at him and tell him how much she was enjoying his penis. Eventually, they were both completely naked as he lay on a bench with Sexy Lexi mounted on top of him, riding his cock wildly.

As a man, I had loved watching Lexi’s enthusiasm throughout the video, enjoying the experience the more she seemed to enjoy it. Watching the video as a woman, I ignored Sexy Lexi. She had nothing on her that caught my interest. I was focused entirely on the guy. I loved the way the camera focused on his abdominals and his pecs, but I grew frustrated that the camera didn’t show more of the expressions on his face.

As my arousal increased, I was pretending that I was Lexi, that it was Mac Kirkland plowing away at me in the locker room after the game. But I wanted to see Mac’s face, to see how much he was enjoying the feeling of my tight little pussy around his big, hard cock. I settled for closing my eyes and trying to imagine it.

I unbuttoned my shorts and slipped my hand down underneath. I began fingering my vaginal lips, stroking my clitoris, and rubbing anything else I could find down there with my fingers. Each stroke of my hand sent those pleasant little electric bolts shooting out of my vagina and throughout my body. I loved the way it felt, and I craved release. Eventually the video ended, and I kept going. But nothing happened.

I played with myself until my hand began to cramp up. I let out a frustrated sigh. Masturbation as a woman felt much better than it had as a man, but achieving release was much less straightforward. As a man, I had always fiddled around with my penis until I eventually ejaculated. As a woman, fondling my private parts kept feeling better and better, but nothing like an ejaculation occurred. The buildup kept building up, but it built up to nothing.

I had heard that orgasms were tougher for women to achieve than for men, that some women had sex for years without ever achieving an orgasm. Some of them even believed they couldn’t achieve orgasm. I hoped that wasn’t going to be the case for me because my body was aching desperately for release and if I had to live any length of time without getting what I needed, I was going to lose my mind.

I took a cold shower and went to bed, practically feeling my privates pulse with an overwhelming yearning sensation I hadn’t been able to satisfy.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the feeling. I had to get some rest. Tomorrow was going to be the first day of what might turn out to be the rest of my life.

Chapter Eighteen

The next few days passed quickly.

Through my dreams, I learned more about my life as Kelly. As the dreams continued night after night, they became more vivid and I could tell I was picking up skills she had developed over the years, like cooking or applying makeup, little things like that. The more of her memories I experienced, the more I began to suspect that my personality was changing, although it was difficult to put my finger on it.

Each morning I went for a four-mile run. That was the highlight of every day, mainly I think because of the endorphin high, but also because when I went out for a run, that was the only time I ever felt perfectly comfortable as a girl. I felt young, athletic, and sexy. I felt girly in the best possible way. It got to the point that I purposely dressed provocatively when I went for a run, pairing my running shoes and compression shorts with only a sports bra. I felt like I was running in lingerie. And I liked it.

Work was the place where I was least comfortable as a woman. My male coworkers were flirtatious and ogled me constantly.

Henry was bad, but there was a certain playfulness in his approach toward me that was disarming. If not for the way Brooke shot daggers at me with her eyes any time Henry so much as glanced in my direction, I could overlook his attitude toward me.

Hunter, on the other hand, was downright predatory. He would corner me in the hallway or in the breakroom or in an office and tie me down in suggestive conversation until I could find a way to break free. It was intimidating to have him stand over me, preventing escape by using his much larger frame to fence me in. Few things made me feel smaller or weaker as a woman than when Hunter trapped me like that.

My ongoing experiences with Hunter were made more difficult by the way my body remained in a state of perpetual arousal.

After my disappointing night with Marco, my body still craved release. Having failed to find satisfaction with Marco or by way of my own clumsy hands, my body remained primed. There was a constant throbbing between my legs that sometimes grew so intense that I could hardly sit without getting turned on by the pressure that sitting put on the area between my legs. Although the feelings would wax and wane throughout the day, when the feelings were at their most intense, I would be overcome with a powerful desire to be touched. I wanted my skin caressed, I wanted hands massaging my breasts, and most of all I wanted something big and hard to slide through the slit between my legs. In those moments, my mind would flood with more fantasies of Mac Kirkland pounding away at me in the locker room like I was Sexy Lexi in my favorite porno.

As horny as I could get, it was difficult to ignore the fact that I had a handsome, virile young man willing to help me find release in the form of Hunter. As much as I loathed him, I couldn’t deny that he looked good. Sometimes just looking at him for too long would be enough to get me wet between my legs. It was embarrassing that someone I despised so much held that kind of power over me.

Considering the history of Kelly’s love life, I also found myself wondering if something was meant to happen between me and Hunter. Throughout her life, Kelly had fallen for several guys that David had resented when he had had encountered them. Randall, Carlos, and Paul. Kelly had fallen for all of them. It made sense that Hunter, one more guy David hadn’t liked, would fit into that pattern. The idea of spreading my legs for Hunter disgusted me, but there was a small part of me that was aroused by the idea. I tried my hardest to ignore that sickening part of me.

Perhaps because I felt so uncomfortable with my femininity at work, I intentionally dressed in a unisex manner, wearing slacks instead of skirts and blouses that fit more like men’s shirts and avoiding heels in favor of flats. I also didn’t bother applying makeup and wore none to work.

Despite my best efforts to look less attractive, Brooke remained an icy bitch toward me. She deployed a relentless barrage of passive-aggressive attacks against me on a daily basis. She also gossiped about me behind my back to the other women in the office. I heard some of the things she said about me, that I slept with a different guy every week, that my breasts were implants, that I had a sugar daddy who paid all my bills, that I carried around the morning after pill with me all the time, and that I had a list of abortion clinics in my purse. It hurt that some of the rumors she spread about me rang true. I was, or had been or could be, promiscuous. I wanted to change that about myself, of course, but the fact that the rumors were partly true made them sting even more. In any event, Brooke and the other girls at work frequently went out to lunch together or hung out after work. I was never invited to any of their outings, and they occasionally made a point of disinviting me.

I was not popular with the girls and too popular with the boys.

As for my job itself, being a secretary was much less demanding work than being a paralegal. The bulk of my job was really just answering phone calls and keeping track of Mr. Baxter’s calendar. Some of my duties were degrading, like grabbing coffee for Mr. Baxter, or picking up his lunch, or getting his dry cleaning, but at least he didn’t flirt with me. Yes, his attitude toward me was patronizing and condescending, but he had been that way toward me as a man, too, so I knew it wasn’t sexism.

My job didn’t make for a lot of demands on my intellect. That was unfortunate because it gave me too much time to think. I would vacillate between feeling depressed at the thought that I would never be a man again to desperately wanting a man to crawl into bed with me so I could scratch the itch between my legs. Not a desirable range of thoughts to occupy my mind.

After work, I would go home, bitch to the girls about my day, and spend the bulk of my time reading the Treatise. I did try a few times to experiment with masturbation again, but it seemed to only make things worse when I couldn’t figure out how to finish the job. I would spend a long time playing with my vagina only to give up in frustration, feeling hornier than before I started.

Tuesday night provided a break in my new routine when I found out that was the night that Ashley and I went to do yoga at a studio a few blocks away from the townhouse. I didn’t feel like trying yoga, but I didn’t want to disappoint Ashley, so I found a pair of yoga pants in my dresser and bit the bullet.

I learned a couple of things from the experience.

First, yoga pants are ridiculously comfortable. Wearing a pair of yoga pants feels like wearing nothing at all.

Secondly, although I had dismissed yoga as a ridiculous exercise no more intensive than some light stretching, it was actually very difficult. Many of the poses were difficult to assume and holding them for any length of time really put a lot of demands on my muscles.

It said a lot that about the physical rigors of yoga that our instructor was a middle-aged woman who was covered from head to toe in muscle that looked as hard as steel. Looking at those toned muscles was the first time since I had been transformed that I found myself attracted to the body of another woman. It went no further than that, though, because when I tried to imagine myself caressing the instructor or kissing her, I found myself disgusted by the notion. I was definitely a heterosexual woman.

Wednesday brought a couple of unexpected surprises. In the morning, I received an email from the clinic I had visited on Saturday that informed me that my tests had all come back negative for any sexually transmitted diseases. That was a relief and put me in a good mood…until I received a text from Marco in the afternoon asking me if I was open to meeting up that night.

My initial reaction was to delete Marco’s text and block his number. I was disturbed to realize that the decision was not an easy one. The area between my legs was hot and moist and had been throbbing for most of the day. The idea of hopping into bed again with Marco was not as repulsive a prospect to my body as it was to my mind. A part of me wanted to feel his manhood inside of me again even as the rational part of my mind wished he would get hit by a truck. It was only by summoning an immense strength of will that I managed to delete Marco’s text without responding.

By Thursday, I had finished the Treatise and wanted to celebrate by going out to watch the football game that night at a sports bar near the townhouse.

I hadn’t learned any amazing revelations from reading through the book. If anything, grasping the fundamentals of magic as outlined by Houdini, or whatever his name was, had only made it clear how hard it would be to become a man again, let alone get back my old life as David Rodriguez. Erica had not been far off when she had referred to the idea as being as complicated as building a nuclear power plant. In point of fact, a physical transformation on par with changing a man into a woman, or vice versa, wasn’t that much different from fission in terms of the knowledge required. Altering reality, as Mort had done, was more like creating a wormhole. But at least in reading the Treatise, I came to understand that these feats were possible.

Chapter Nineteen

When I arrived home, I asked Ashley to go with me to the sports bar.

“What’s with this tomboy phase you’re going through lately?” she asked with a curious look on her face. “You’ve stopped wearing makeup, you strut around in t-shirts and jeans, you put your hair up in a ponytail, and you’re watching sports. Are you planning to have a sex change and become a man?”

“You hit the nail right on the head!” I exclaimed. “And after I grow a dick, the first thing I’m going to do is jam it into your cooch!”

I got behind Ashley and rubbed my pelvis against her rear, which was tough to do because she was taller than me. Her butt was a few inches above my waistline.

Ashley laughed and playfully shoved me away.

“Forget it,” Ashley said with a smile. “I’m sure you can find a plastic surgeon to attach a dick to your body, but you need to be at least this tall to get on this ride.”

Ashley held her hand several inches over her head, interestingly about six feet high, what my height had been as David. I grunted in annoyance. I was never going to get used to being short.

“I’ll remember you said that after my sex change. Right now, the game is about to start. Are you coming with me or are you going to force me to sit alone in a bar full of drunk guys?”

“I guess I’m going to have to go to protect my future boyfriend from getting hit on,” Ashley said.

We drove to the sports bar and parked outside. I was pleased to see several other women in the bar when we walked in, although most of them were obviously accompanying their boyfriends. It made me feel less out of place to see other women present. Ashley and I sat down at a table with a good view of the televisions that hung on the wall behind the counter.

I ordered a pitcher of beer and, as the game began, explained to Ashley, “The Gators are undefeated so far this season and the Ramblers have lost all but two of their games. The Gators are obviously a heavy favorite, but that’s only because most people don’t know a damn thing about football. The Ramblers are probably the only team in the league that can shut down the Gators’ passing game, and the Gators can’t run the ball for shit. My call is that the Gators lose by at least ten points.”

“You’re crazy,” someone at the next table said.

I looked over at the table behind us and saw two men dressed in Gators jerseys sitting there. One of them was a husky guy with coarse brown hair cut close to his scalp who sported a thick beard, the other guy was clean-shaven with thick black hair parted to one side and a couple of locks falling wistfully across his forehead.

The guy with the black hair continued, “The Gators have the best offense in the league. No way they’re dropping a game to the Ramblers.”

I felt a tingling sensation in my nipples and the area between my legs grew warmer as I looked at the black-haired man. He was cute and, although the baggy jersey he wore made it difficult to size up his physique, I could tell from his bulging biceps and broad shoulders that he was in good shape. He had a sexy honey bronze complexion with almond-shaped eyes colored a rich amber hue. He boasted a sharp chin and broad cheekbones that gave his rugged Latin features a cool intensity. As a Latino, I had been particularly attracted to Latinas and it did not surprise me at all that as a Latina I was now drawn to Latinos.

“You’re talking out of your ass,” I said. I didn’t care how cute he was, I was tired of receiving snide comments from men. “You’re only looking at the Gators’ record, if you’d bother to pick apart their performance, you’d realize that they’re a one-trick pony. The Ramblers have exactly the right defense set up to exploit the Gators’ weaknesses. The Ramblers are going to take this one and every coach in the league is going to have the Gators’ number after it’s over. Their undefeated streak ends tonight, and they can kiss the playoffs goodbye.”

The bearded guy laughed and waved a dismissive hand. His buddy, however, said, “How do you figure that?”

I fought down the urge to run my fingers through his thick black hair and instead said, “The Gators’ offense is built around their wide receiver Beyer, and with good reason, he’s fast and there’s hardly a team in the league that can put effective man-to-man coverage on him. But the Ramblers have at least two linebackers that can stay on Beyer in Drucker and Fultz, and their cornerback specializes in covering the sort of routes Beyer usually gets assigned. The Ramblers’ defense is going to put heavy pressure on Beyer and the Gators’ quarterback, that over-the-hill has-been Schuler, is going to have to find other guys to catch the ball, except none of their other receivers can handle man-to-man coverage, either. The Gators coach is going to panic and try to run the ball or rely on screen passes, but the Ramblers’ defensive line is built to stop plays like that cold. The Gators are fucked.”

The black-haired guy looked at his bearded friend with a wide-eyed expression.

“That’s an interesting theory, but I don’t buy it. Even if the Ramblers can put the pressure on Beyer, which I don’t believe for a second, Langley and Turner can pick up the slack. And the Gators’ running back, Cole, he can mow down the whole Ramblers defense all by himself.”

“You’ll see,” I warned him.

Ashley looked at me and asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m trying to figure that out myself these days,” I said with a shrug.

Our pitcher of beer arrived, and I gulped down a glass. Cold beer and football. Life was starting to look a lot better.

On the first play of the game, the Gators ran the ball and managed to gain six yards.

The black-haired man cheered. “You see that? Shutdown their running game my ass.”

On the second play, Beyer ran a crossing route and was under intense coverage the whole way. Unable to find another open player and about to get sacked, Schuler got rid of the ball by throwing it over the sideline. The Gators ran another passing play and Schuler tossed the ball at Beyer even though Fultz was on top of him. Sure enough, Fultz was able to intercept the ball.

As the Ramblers took possession of the ball at the Gators’ thirty-eight-yard line, I laughed gleefully and raised my glass in the direction of the two guys at the table behind us. They looked dismayed.

The Ramblers weren’t able to capitalize on their pick by scoring a touchdown, but they got within easy field goal position and scored. When they kicked the ball to the Gators, the Gators were only able to return the ball to their own eighteen-yard line. Beyer could not get out from under Fultz and Schuler tried to get the ball into the hands of either Langley or Turner, but neither of the other two receivers could make a successful catch with the tight man-to-man coverage they were facing, and the Gators were forced to punt on fourth down. The Ramblers were unable to accomplish much when they were in possession of the ball, but their efforts did persuade the Gators to try and run the ball when they got it back. As I predicted, the Ramblers were able to keep the Gators’ running game contained.

By the end of the first quarter, the Gators were down three to nothing.

I turned to the two guys at the next table and jeered, “What’s the matter? Didn’t see that coming? If only there had been some way of knowing.”

“The game’s just getting started, honey,” the bearded guy said.

“Don’t look so glum over there,” I said. “Some guys just don’t know much about football. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

The black-haired guy smiled and said, “What’s your name? If someone is going to be talking trash to my face all night, I should at least know her name.”

“Fair enough. I’m Kelly and this is my bestie, Ashley. You got a handle, champ?”

The black-haired guy said, “I’m Johnny and this happy camper here is Ian. You want to make this game interesting?”

“I don’t mind taking your money.”

“How’s this sound? If the Gators are behind at half-time, we’ll pick up your tab. If they’re ahead, you cover our tab.”

“Deal.”

Ashley leaned in close to me and whispered, “I hope that bet is the only action you’re interested in tonight.”

“Relax,” I whispered back, “I’m planning to keep my panties on.”

On their next possession, the Gators were able to get great field position on the return. Schuler tried a screen pass. His running back Cole caught the ball and was able to find a gap in the Ramblers’ defense. Cole managed to cover more than thirty yards before getting tackled. That put the Gators within twenty yards of the end zone. On the next play, Schuler pulled off a convincing trick play that fooled the Ramblers into thinking he had passed the ball to Turner. Instead, Schuler held onto the ball and, to my amazement, took it into the end zone himself. The exhausted expression on his face made it clear that he wasn’t likely to pull of something like that again.

Although the Gators took the lead, they held it only briefly. The Ramblers were able to score another field goal and one touchdown in the second quarter. The Ramblers were leading comfortably thirteen to seven by half-time.

“Drink up, Ashley,” I said. “Drinks our on our new friends over there.”

I smiled at Johnny and Ian, who stared into their mugs of beer as if searching for an explanation.

Johnny looked up at me and said, “Double or nothing. You said the Gators will win by at least ten points. If they do, we’ll cover your tab tonight and for Sunday’s game. If they don’t, you cover us tonight and on Sunday.”

Ian chuckled. “That girl can put away her booze, bro. Your wallet is going to be hurting if you take that bet.”

“I don’t see it happening,” Johnny insisted.

Ian shook his head.

“You got it,” I said.

By the end of the third quarter, I was several beers into the game and feeling ballsy and reckless. That was why, with the Ramblers leading sixteen to ten, I stood up, raised my arms over my head, and shouted, “The Gators are going to get swamped tonight!”

Johnny and Ian laughed, Ashley rolled her eyes at me, and several bar patrons booed me. Clearly, I was dealing with sore losers.

“Don’t get cocky, honey,” Ian cautioned me. “If the Ramblers don’t score another touchdown, you’re getting the bill.”

“I’ve got two reasons to expect the Ramblers to pull it off,” I said. I raised both my middle fingers in Ian’s direction. “Here they are.”

“You can be a real bitch when you’re drunk,” Ashley said.

“I can be a real bitch when I’m sober, too. It’s just more fun when I’m drunk.”

By the fourth quarter, the Gators’ offense was in shambles, so there was no need to worry that they would win. Every time they ran the ball, they fell short. They hardly dared to pass the ball since anything more than a short toss to their tight end or a running back nearly always resulted in an interception. Unfortunately, the Ramblers weren’t able to do much with the ball, either. Then with less than two minutes to go in regulation, Schuler was stupid enough to try and pass the ball to Beyer. It was easily picked off by Drucker, who managed to run up the edge of the field and reach the end zone. That made it a pick-six and brought the score to twenty-three to ten after the extra point.

I leapt up and down and shouted, “USA! USA! USA! USA! USA!”

“Someone shut that loudmouthed bitch up!” one woman shrieked in response. Her cry was met with applause. I only laughed.

As dejected Gators fan walked out of the bar with their shoulders slumped and their faces scowling, Johnny and Ian paid our bill.

“I still can’t understand how you saw that coming,” Johnny said.

“I’ve been following the game since I was a kid,” I said. “It’s second nature to me. I was a running back in high school, too. That gave me a better feel for the game even if I couldn’t play worth a damn.”

Johnny laughed.

“Yeah, I doubt you made MVP,” Johnny said.

“Uh…I mean…my, uh, boyfriend was a running back. I picked up the game from him. I watched him play from the sidelines. I was a cheerleader.”

“Huh. Well, I don’t know what kind of player he was, but he must have had a thick skin to put up with your trash-talking mouth.”

“You held up all right under my tongue lashing. Let’s see if you can handle some more this Sunday during the Mustangs-Bandits game.”

“You a fan of the home team?”

“I’m loyal to a fault.”

Johnny and I exchanged numbers and then Ashley drove me home.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you were a huge sports fan?” Ashley asked.

“You never gave me a chance. I feel like I’ve only just started to get to know you.”

“No kidding. All this time I thought you were a perky little girly girl and now I’m finding out you’re a dude with boobs and a vagina. I don’t know if I can handle the new manlier you.”

I giggled.

Chapter Twenty

After work on Friday, I drove to Erica’s shop. When I walked inside, she was talking to a man in a green polo shirt and khaki pants who was holding a jar full of a yellow powder.

“All I have to is pour this stuff around the basement and the troll will leave?” the man asked her.

“They hate the stuff and I’ve never known one to stick around after you cover their lair in it,” Erica said.

The man nodded and walked out of the store staring incredulously at the jar as he left.

“All a guy needs to drive out a troll is some yellow powder?” I asked Erica.

“The ground up bones of a leviathan don’t come cheap,” Erica said. “They make for a remarkably effective troll repellent.”

“What’s a leviathan?”

“One of the world’s many hidden horrors. How are you doing, Kelly? Making any headway with the Treatise?”

“I finished it. It raised some questions.”

“That’s quite impressive. There are many practitioners of magic who can’t get through it. If you have questions, perhaps I have answers.”

“The djinn didn’t transform me, he transformed reality.”

“Yes, we’ve established that,” Erica said.

“If djinn make wishes come true by consuming mana, then the manipulation of mana can result in the transformation of reality.”

Erica clapped approvingly. “Very good. That stands to reason, based on everything we know about the properties of mana.”

“Okay. That means that all I need is to find someone who can manipulate mana to alter reality.”

“Now, given what you’ve learned from the Treatise, how likely do you think that is?”

“Not likely,” I admitted.

“But you have another idea, don’t you?”

I nodded. “If I can’t get back to my old life, it’s still possible to transform back into a man, just not the man I used to be.”

“That was what I told you the first time you dropped by, and it appears you understood the Treatise well enough to grasp why that is. There are probably some magicians who can change your sex if you can afford what they charge for such a spell. But if you have the discipline and fortitude for it, you can learn how to perform such magic for yourself.”

“And you’d be willing to teach me, of course, for a price.”

“I can provide you with resources,” Erica said, “show you how to teach yourself. I can make no promises about the final outcome. Your fate is in your hands, Kelly, I can only give you the opportunity to mold it. In the end, what you mold it into will be up to you.”

“What do I have to lose?” I asked with a shrug.

“Many things. Your mind. Your soul. Your life.”

I glowered at Erica. “That was a rhetorical question. Look, I’m desperate. Let’s get the ball rolling with the magic already.”

Erica sold me several books that she assured me would teach me the fundamentals of spellcasting. I got the impression that the books were the magic equivalent of workbooks designed to teach children how to write the letters of the alphabet or something. I was fine with that. I had to learn to walk before I could run.

“There’s something else,” I said after I finished paying for the books. “Ever since I was transformed, I’ve been having these intense dreams when I sleep at night. The djinn said they’re not dreams at all, but memories from my life in this reality. The more dreams I experience, the more different I feel. It’s like…I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like I’m changing.”

“That’s typical of the process,” Erica said. “When the djinn placed your consciousness in your new reality, he didn’t displace the original consciousness that inhabited it. It’s still in there and it’s merging with your consciousness. No one can say exactly what the final result will be. As your memories, experiences, and desires combine, usually the process results in the formation of a new consciousness, a mixture of old and new.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

“Great. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any creepier, now you’re telling me I’m going to lose my identity.”

“I didn’t say you’re going to lose your identity. It’s possible, but not certain. You may simply see a change in your personality.”

“How will I know where my personality begins and Kelly’s personality ends?”

“That I can’t say. It’s something you’ll need to figure out for yourself.”

“Delightful,” I said. “Speaking of unknowable things, do you know anything about the plane of existence that djinn come from? They don’t exist here with us, right? All we see of them is the astral form they project through the objects they use as gateways into our dimension. What is it like in the world they inhabit?”

Erica laughed.

“Unknowable things, indeed. I can hardly imagine what their world is like. I’ve heard stories, but their world is beyond human comprehension. A sage once told me that the land of the djinn is like an empty desert where the wind blows the sand around, and sometimes the sand blows the wind around. I don’t know what he meant by that, but that sort of gibberish is the way the home of the djinn is usually described. It’s a place devoid of logic.”

“Yeah. I’m experiencing a lot of that lately.”

“I see that you still have the djinn’s ring. You should get rid of it. The djinn is not your friend. People say some djinn are good, and some bad. The truth is the djinn are indifferent. They see humans as a food source, the same way we see cows or chickens. They don’t seek to hurt us any more than you seek to hurt the hamburger you eat, but they only want to use us. After they’re done feeding, they don’t care about the mortals they drain of mana.”

“How about I give the ring to you, and you use it to wish that I were a man again?”

Erica snorted. “What if I introduce you to a vampire and he drains your blood in exchange for turning you into one of the undead? How does that sound to you?”

“Vampires are real, too?”

“I can’t believe how naïve you are to the ways of the world,” Erica said. “I would no more allow a djinn to drain my mana than I would allow a vampire to drain my blood.”

“I’m sure I can find someone who would be willing to make the wish for me.”

“Hmmm. What would you be able to offer someone that would be more appealing than having their wildest wish granted?”

“A friend who cared about me would do it.”

“Remember what I told you before, power corrupts. If you want to test a friend’s loyalty, give that friend the djinn’s ring. Don’t be surprised if your friend’s loyalty is wanting. The djinn’s power got you into this mess, don’t expect that same power to fix anything for you. You’re an intelligent woman, Kelly, have faith in yourself. If you truly wish to be a man again, rely on your own abilities. My advice to you is to toss the djinn’s ring into the ocean and hope you never run into another djinn for as long as you live.”

“I’ve learned enough about magic to realize it could take me years to figure out how to transform myself. The djinn’s power may be my only hope.”

Erica took a step toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I don’t know how to perform transformation spells. I may know some people who do. At least I can ask around. But I would still recommend you try and figure out how to do it yourself. The sort of magic you’re talking about, you can’t trust other people with that sort of spell.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t. Trust your instincts instead.”

The bell hanging on the door to Erica’s shop rang as a striking, statuesque blonde woman with extraordinary curves walked in. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders and complimented her bright green eyes. She was wearing a tight burgundy dress that showed off a lot of cleavage and a lot of leg. She did not look a day over thirty.

Erica beamed at the blonde woman and said, “Hello, Chastity, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Maybe I just missed you, Erica,” the woman named Chastity said as she and Erica hugged and kissed one another on the cheek.

“The feeling is mutual,” Erica said.

Chastity looked me up and down in a way that so far only men had done. She smiled warmly and said, “And who is this lovely girl?”

I took a step back, crossed my arms over my chest, and smiled back at Chastity wanly.

“Oh, this is Kelly, a new customer. We were just finishing up here. Kelly, this is, Chastity, a dear old friend of mine. Why don’t you give me your number so I can give you a call if I find that item you’re looking for.”

“Sure.”

I gave Erica my number as Chastity continued to leer at me.

As I walked out of Erica’s shop, I heard Chastity say, “It’s always great to see you, Erica, but I don’t have too much time to catch up, I just drove down from Rich Port to stock up on supplies. I’m hosting the coven this weekend and we’re going to be up to the devil’s work.”

Erica giggled and led Chastity to some shelves toward the back of the store. “You’re in luck, my dear, I just received a shipment of ground up leviathan bones and some dragon scales.”

Chapter Twenty-One

I took the books I had purchased from Erica and drove home to the townhouse, stopping briefly at a liquor store to pick up a six-pack of beer. After dealing with the weirdness of Erica’s shop, I needed a drink, and while the other girls kept the fridge stocked with wine and ingredients for girly cocktails, that wasn’t my cup of tea.

I came home to find Ashley and Becky in the living room watching television. Becky was sitting on the couch with her feet raised on Ashley’s lap as Ashley applied a fresh coat of polish to Becky’s toenails. I placed the six-pack in the fridge and ran upstairs to change out of my work clothes and into a t-shirt, yoga pants, and flip-flops. I left the magic books on my desk and ran back downstairs. After pulling out a bottle of beer from the fridge, I walked over to the living room to join Becky and Ashley. They had a bottle of wine on the coffee table beside two half-empty glasses.

“What are we watching?”

“Becky is watching Girl Fight,” Ashley answered. “I’m too busy repainting the claws on her feet to focus on anything else.”

“Not everyone has the time or money for weekly pedicures, babe,” Becky said.

“Girl Fight?” I repeated as I drank my beer. “Isn’t that the dumb movie where a bunch of girls at an office compete to get the attention of their new boss?”

“Dumb movie?” Becky said. “Bitch, you’ve been wanting to watch this movie for months.”

“Ugh,” I grunted. “I am one basic bitch.”

“You’re just now realizing that?” Ashley asked as she continued applying polish to Becky’s toenails.

I watched the movie. The cast was made up of four of the sexiest actresses in Hollywood, all of whom I had fantasized about as David, but I was far more interested in the actor who played their cute boss. As I watched the movie, I found it totally believable that a group of girls would fight over a guy like that.

“If one of the guys at work looked like that, no power on earth could keep me from crawling into bed with him,” I said.

“I’m sure Hunter would take you up on that offer,” Becky assured me.

“Hard pass,” I said.

Emma soon came home and joined us. All four of us enjoyed the movie. The crazy stunts the girls in the movie pulled on one another as they fought over their boss made us laugh uncontrollably. The ending, in which the boss was fired after getting arrested for paying a prostitute for sex, was also an amusing twist. As funny as the movie was, the jealousy between the girls seemed more interesting. It rang true. I couldn’t help but be reminded of Brooke and was glad that she didn’t go as far as lighting my car on fire like one of the girls in the movie, although I’m sure she fantasized about it.

After finishing the movie, the girls and I decided to make dinner together. We went to the supermarket to pick up ingredients. When we went to pay for our groceries, I noticed that the two guys standing behind us in the checkout line were staring at my ass. Ordinarily, I would simply have ignored them, but I had finished half the six-pack while watching the movie and it made me feel bold.

“I don’t blame you for gawking,” I said. “You guys don’t look like you get to see a lot of ass close up.”

“Don’t act so shocked,” one of them said to me with a smirk. “That’s why they call this the checkout line. We’re just checking out what’s on display.”

Becky looked at the other guy and said, “You let your boyfriend off the leash like that?”

The guy responded with, “Girl, you want to see someone on a leash, I’m all for it. Lay it on me.”

“Good,” Ashley said. “We can walk you down to the vet’s office and get you fixed. You’re not going to be using your balls for anything.”

When we got back home and began laying out the ingredients for the meal we were planning to prepare, Emma asked, “Why do men have to act like such pervs?”

“Men can’t help it,” I said. “When you see a hot girl, the blood flows out of your head and into your dick. It causes a major loss of IQ points. But there’s a difference between thinking with your dick and being fucking rude. I was never like that.”

“Like fuck,” Becky said. “Girl, you think with your pussy. Didn’t you make a date with some guy you met at a bar last night?”

“It’s not a date,” I protested. “We made a bet. He lost fair and square. The fact that he’s hot is a coincidental bonus.”

There was some truth to Ashley’s characterization of me. I had been thinking about Johnny all day and I was looking forward to watching the game with him on Sunday. I chalked it up to the fact that my body was overwhelmed with sexual urges I couldn’t satisfy. Frankly, I didn’t care why I was so excited to see him again. I was just glad to have something to look forward to for once.

I had texted him earlier in the day: “What’s up, bro? You still crying over seeing your Gators swamped last night?”

He had responded: “Trying to get your trash-talking mouth out of my head. No luck. Can’t wait to see YOUR team get schooled Sunday.”

Our little exchange had gotten me hot and wet downstairs at the mere thought of seeing Johnny again. I didn’t want to go through another traumatic experience like the one I had with Marco, but I knew that my body needed release and sooner or later I was going to have to find a way to get it. I didn’t discount the possibility that Johnny might be just the guy to provide me with the release I desperately wanted. He was going to have to work for it, though. I didn’t want to be easy.

“Let me be the judge of whether or not this guy is hot,” Becky said. “Emma and I are crashing your little tailgate party on Sunday. I do not miss out on an opportunity to get wasted when someone else is paying the bill.”

“That seems kind of unfair,” I said. “I love it. He’s got to learn that if you’re going to play, you’ve got to pay.”

I sent Johnny another text telling him that I was bringing two additional girlfriends along on Sunday. He wrote back that he was already going to be filing for bankruptcy and didn’t mind taking on the extra debt. He said he would bring along more friends to make it a party.

“Please don’t pull down your panties for him on Sunday,” Ashley said. “I was so proud of you when you were able to avoid bringing him home last night. I was starting to think you were learning some self-control.”

“Relax,” I said. “I’m turning over a new leaf.”

“We’ve noticed,” Emma said.

“Yeah,” Becky agreed. “This new butch vibe you’ve got going on kind of came out of nowhere, but I’m digging it. Anything that leads to us scoring free beer works for me.”

I thought it was funny that the girls were teasing me for being more masculine in their eyes. As the days passed, I felt like I was growing more comfortable with my new femininity. I suppose it was subjective. Maybe Erica was right. maybe I was finding a new middle-ground in my new life as Kelly.

The girls and I prepared a tuna casserole. I did most of the work and was surprised by how much better I was getting at cooking. As more of Kelly’s memories came back to me, simple skills like that became sharper. It was a strange but welcome part of my transformation.

We kept joking around and talking over dinner. As usual, I had a great time with the girls. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the last few days without them. The time I spent with them was the silver lining to the stupid wish I had made.

After we finished eating and washed the dishes, I said good night to the girls and went upstairs to my room. I began leafing through the books I had bought from Erica.

“She’s crazy, you know.”

Mort was leaning against the wall beside my desk, his fedora clutched in one hand, a look of disdain on his face.

“What’s crazy is that I’m actually getting used to the weirdness that comes with talking to you,” I said.

“Wise up, doll. When mortals meddle with magic, it changes them. The psychic’s brain is all out of sorts from fiddling with the stuff. The only sensible thing she told you is that power corrupts. You better believe it. You’re lucky you wished to be a beautiful dame instead of for fame or fortune. If money and fame can lead to ruin, imagine what magic power can do.”

“I don’t need to imagine what magic can do, I’m experiencing it. You worried I’m going to listen to Erica and toss the ring in the ocean?”

“Toss me in the deepest ocean, sweetheart. Leave me on the highest mountain. Stow me away on a rocket to the moon. I’ll find someone else eventually. I always do. I’m not worried about me. Look, I’m no saint, but I’ve got a soft spot for mortals. That’s why I’m telling you not to fiddle with magic. And don’t deal with anyone who dabbles in it, either.”

I did not take Mort’s warning lightly. Erica had told me to trust my instincts, and my instincts were telling me to be wary of Erica and magic. Simply ignoring magic wasn’t an option, though. It was too late for that, had been too late for that since I made my wish. If I was going to live in a world where an otherworldly being could change my sex with a snap of his fingers, I had to learn as much about magic as I could, regardless of the dangers that my curiosity posed.

“I appreciate your concern, Mort. Now can you give me some privacy? Or as much privacy as you can give me with this ring on my finger?”

Mort shrugged. “I only offer some free advice.”

Mort disappeared in a flash of smoke.

I spent a few hours reading through one of the magic books before the pulsing sensation between my legs led me to begin losing focus. I closed the book, grabbed my phone, lay in bed with the lights off, and pulled my yoga pants and panties down around my ankles.

I searched online for some Sexy Lexi videos, found one of her doing a gang bang scene on a beach with a bunch of musclebound studs. I had zero interest in watching Sexy Lexi, but the men who passed her around held me spellbound. They were tall with hard, chiseled bodies and massive cocks. Three guys at a time would pound away at her vagina, anus, and mouth simultaneously, pulling out as they approached climax to come on her face. Whenever one guy would pull out of one of her holes, another would slip in to pick up the slack. The big smile spread across Sexy Lexi’s face made it clear she was enjoying every second of it.

I slipped a finger into my vagina and rubbed my clit with my thumb. I continued playing with myself as I watched Sexy Lexi’s video, imagining myself in her place. The idea of being passed around by a group of guys as they took turns ejaculating on my face got me super excited.

I put the phone aside and closed my eyes. I imagined myself naked on my knees, sucking off a naked Mac Kirkland. Then I pictured Johnny sliding his cock into my pussy. To my embarrassment, I then imagined Hunter sticking his dick up my ass. As I envisioned all three of them pumping inside me at the same time, I could feel myself approaching orgasm...but once again I couldn’t quite get there, even when I imagined all three of them coming on my face at the same time.

After half an hour of masturbating, I was soaked in sweat and exhausted. I gave up.

I took a cold shower, got ready for bed, and fell asleep to dream of a life that was becoming mine more and more with each passing day.

Chapter Twenty-Two

On Saturday, I got up early, showered, dressed, and went to a coffee shop to grab a latte and read through one of Erica’s magic books.

After a few hours of pouring through the text, I received a call from Erica.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Good morning, Kelly. I hope you are well. I have…some information I want to share with you. I’ve been debating whether or not to tell you. A part of me thinks this may be dangerous. But I promised I would try to help you.”

“Spit it out, Erica. I’m tired of being jerked around.”

“Very well. You remember the customer who came into my shop right before you left?”

“Yes, Chastity. I’m not likely to forget. She made quite the impression. Not many women ogle me the way she did.”

“Yes, well, Chastity is a…well, let’s just say she is a practitioner of magic, a very skilled practitioner. After you left yesterday, I took the opportunity to ask her if she had any experience with gender transformations. She does, and she may be able to help you. I must, however, caution you. It may not be the sort of help you want.”

“Can she transform me into a man or not?”

“Yes, she can,” Erica said. “She has the power to do that because…because she’s a witch.”

In the last few days, I had learned that, among other things, genies, magic, psychics, unicorns, trolls, and vampires were real. I don’t think I had fully internalized the revelation that all these fantastic things existed, but I was becoming a lot more open-minded about what I was told. That said, the way Erica brough up the fact that Chastity was a witch made me anxious.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked.

There was a long pause before Erica said, “I have no prejudice against witches. They have suffered enough persecution throughout the centuries, and I fully support their way of life without casting judgment. Unfortunately, their ways can be…complicated. Remember what I told you about magic practitioners?”

“I remember you saying that a witch with the power to help me might ask me for a human sacrifice in return. That was also when you told me that a demon could help in exchange for my soul. Is that what we’re talking about here?”

“Not necessarily,” Erica said, somewhat unconvincingly. “I can’t tell you with certainty what Chastity may demand from you in exchange for her help, all I can tell you is what I’ve told you before: what you seek will come at a price. You may think you’re ready to pay any price to be a man again, but you may reconsider that when the choice is before you. You would do well to think twice before asking Chastity, or any witch, for help. Now, if none of that has served to dissuade you, I can arrange for you to meet with Chastity to discuss the matter with her.”

I was tired of the cryptic warnings that seemed par for the course when it came to all things magic. That was one big reason why I was so keen on learning more about magic. The best way to overcome my fear of magic was to overcome my ignorance of it.

I told Erica, “Don’t get me wrong, you’ve definitely filled me with apprehension about sitting down to ask a witch for help, but I want to explore my options. Go ahead and arrange for the meeting.”

“Okay,” Erica said. “I’ll let her know and get back to you in a few minutes with the details. I’ve known Chastity for a long time, Kelly. Heed this advice well. Don’t lie to her and don’t be rude. Just do that, and you should be fine.”

It turned out that Chastity lived in Rich Port, a coastal town about an hour’s drive away. She was available to meet with me at noon that same day, so I left right away. Following Erica’s directions, I arrived at a lovely beach house about a mile away from a bustling boardwalk full of townspeople enjoying the sunny weekend weather. I parked my car on the side of a road that ran along the coast and walked toward the beach house.

I knocked on the door. It opened to reveal a stunningly gorgeous blonde girl in her late teens or early twenties who wore a red halter top and a skimpy pair of denim shorts. She was slim but her muscles were toned, and she had perfectly sculpted curves. Her skin was sun kissed and smooth. She was a petite girl with small, delicate hands and feet, but still taller than me at about five feet, two inches tall. Her breasts were her most outstanding feature. They were massive. Looking into the girl’s face, I noticed more than a passing resemblance to Chastity. Perhaps this was Chastity’s sister.

“Yes?” the girl said in a syrupy sweet voice.

“Hello, my name is Kelly Rodriguez, I’m here to see Chastity. Do I have the right house?”

The blonde girl smirked. “I guess that depends on why you’re here. But I’ll let you figure out that part. Come on in.”

The girl opened the door and I cautiously stepped inside, half expecting to walk into a dark room with a boiling cauldron at its center. Instead, I walked into a well-furnished living room.

“My name is Summer,” the girl said as she led me to a sofa beside a window with a panoramic view of the ocean. “Chastity is my aunt.”

My jaw dropped.

“Your aunt? I take it Chastity is a lot younger than your mother. Or would that be your father?”

“Both my parents passed away in an auto accident a few years ago,” Summer said with an air of detachment in her voice.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know. And my mother was much younger than Aunt Chastity. I get why you’re surprised. Most people think Aunt Chastity and I are about the same age. She’s actually much older than she appears. Go ahead and have a seat, I’ll go grab my aunt.”

As I sat down on the sofa, a young boy who was about four or five years old came running into the room and shouted, “Mommy! Mommy! Look what I drew!”

The little boy waved a sheet of paper in front of Summer. I could see that something was drawn on the paper in crayon. Summer grabbed the paper out of the boy’s hand, looked it over, and smiled.

“That’s beautiful, baby. I love it. But we have a guest, so be polite and say hello.”

The little boy looked at me with a perplexed expression. I smiled at him and gave him a friendly wave.

“Wow, Mommy,” he said, “she’s just like you.”

With that, the little boy darted out of the room.

Summer looked at me with an awkward smile. “Sorry, my son can be a little forward. Wait just a minute.”

I took the opportunity to admire the beautiful view of the beach. It calmed me down. I had only been there a few minutes and I was already getting a creepy vibe from the place. All of Erica’s dire warnings did nothing to put me at ease.

Chastity walked into the living room wearing a long, flowing lilac-colored gown. Summer followed at her side with a subdued expression on her face.

“Good to see you again, Kelly,” Chastity said with a smile.

She eyed me with the same hungry look she had given me the day before. I could tell she was undressing me in her head. I thought back to what Erica had said about paying a high price for what I wanted. My mind began to fill with all sorts of unnerving ideas about what that might involve based on the way Chastity stared at me.

Chastity took a seat in a lounge chair beside the sofa while Summer stood beside Chastity with her hands folded in front of her, looking down at her feet.

“Can Summer get you anything?” Chastity asked. “Water? Coffee? Tea?”

“Thank you for the offer, but no, I’m all right. I appreciate you taking the time out to see me on such short notice. It’s my understanding that Erica filled you in on my…problem.”

“She explained about your encounter with a djinn,” Chastity said. “You’re not the first person who made a wish and came to regret it.”

Chastity shot a quick glance at Summer and glowered before looking back at me. Summer withered under that damning look from Chastity. Her shoulders slumped and she turned her head away from Chastity.

“A djinn granted you a wish?” I asked.

Chastity shook her head. “No, my mistake was of my own making. But we’re not here to talk about my mistakes. We’re here to talk about the mistake you’re thinking of making.”

“I don’t catch your meaning.”

Chastity leaned toward me and said, “Your problem, Kelly, is not that you made a wish to become a woman. I would wager that your wish resulted in an improvement over what you were like before. No, my dear, your problem is that you want to be a man again.”

I stared blankly at Chastity.

“I think there might be some kind of misunderstanding here.”

Chastity shook her head. “No, I understand all too well. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, gifted young woman, Kelly. Erica told me you read through Houdini’s Treatise in only a few days. Few people could accomplish such a feat, and fewer still could grasp the book’s lessons. From that alone, I can divine that you’re a very special woman.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your praise. From what Erica has told me about you, that means a lot. But I’m only interested in learning about magic so I can figure out if there’s a way to become a man again. Erica told me you might be able to help with that.”

Chastity leaned back and sighed.

“Yes, I can perform physical transformations. You need only examine Summer for a sample of my handiwork. She had the misfortune of being born male. After she came to live with me, I tried to tolerate her…imperfection. Unfortunately, she was quite the misguided youth and I decided to offer her the opportunity for a better life by transforming her into a woman. It was quite the improvement, wasn’t it Summer?”

Summer looked back at Chastity and said, “I didn’t appreciate what you did for me. I could have done better.”

“Indeed,” Chastity said. “My intention was to leave Summer as a woman for a few months and then give her the opportunity to become a man again. What I didn’t expect was that, even as a woman, Summer was able to exercise poor judgment. She slept around with some boys and found herself pregnant. To this day, I’m not sure whether she would have chosen to become a man again absent her condition. But once she was pregnant, there was no way to turn her back into a man without terminating the life growing inside her, so she chose to remain as she is.”

I struggled to find the words. It was hard to figure out the proper response to what Chastity had revealed.

“That’s…that’s quite an interesting…uh…story.”

The look of shame on Summer’s face spoke volumes. I turned from Chastity to Summer to Chastity again. I had no idea what to say. The bizarre revelation about Summer’s past was simply too strange to understand. It raised a lot of questions about Chastity’s ethics and motives. Did Chastity hate men? Was she some sort of sadist? Had Summer’s decision to remain a woman truly been voluntary? Putting all that to the side, as far as I was concerned, Chastity had divulged the most critical piece of information I needed to know. She could turn me back into a man.

“I can transform you back into a man, Kelly. I believe that answers your question. Now I would like an answer to my question. Why would you want to go back to being a man? Certainly, you wanted to be a woman, why else would you have made a wish to be a woman?”

I was about to tell Chastity that I had been drunk when I made my wish, but then I remembered what Erica had said about not lying to Chastity. I had reflected on my decision for a while, and I realized that it wasn’t the alcohol that had led me to make my wish. Sure, that had perhaps given me the courage to make the wish, but it had not been the motivation behind the wish.

“I thought my life would be better as a woman. I’ve thought that for a long time.”

Summer looked at me with curiosity after I said that.

“Why?” asked Chastity.

“As a man…there were some things missing from my life. They were the sort of things I didn’t think I could achieve as a man. Looking back, it always seemed like they were the things that came more easily to women than to men. They were the type of things men sometimes get ridiculed for wanting. Things like…intimacy, affection, warmth. Those were things I never experienced as a man, things I’ve only begun to experience since I’ve been a woman.”

I was surprised to hear myself speak those words, even more surprised to realize how much truth there was in them. I don’t know why I had been so unwilling to admit the truth to myself before.

“And you would give all that up for what?” Chastity asked.

“Because this isn’t who I am,” I answered. “Life as Kelly may be…better, but it’s not my life. It’s a life I’ve taken from someone else. My old life was shittier, but if I stay this way, I’m taking the coward’s way out. I should learn from this experience, go back to my old life, and make the changes I need to get a life like this one. It’s not about changing my sex. It’s about being true to myself.”

Chastity stared at me for a long time before speaking again.

“In exchange for turning you back into a man, you’ll have to bind yourself as my familiar. I don’t have the ability to alter reality. I can’t send you back to whatever reality it is that the djinn pulled you from. I can only change your physical form to resemble the man you once were. You’ll have no past, no identity here as a man. It’ll be no trouble at all for me to create the paperwork to give you a legal existence here. I was able to do the same thing for Summer. I don’t need magic for that, I have significant private resources. But if I turn you into a man, you must become my servant.”

“Your servant? Why?”

“Because I could use one,” Chastity said.

“Is there anything else I could offer you?”

“Hardly,” Chastity said. “I see little benefit to depriving the world of a strong, capable woman and replacing her with a mediocre man. The world is filled with plenty of those. If you are to become a man, I must gain something of value for my troubles. To have one more man in the world would be quite a burden to collective humanity, but if that man were to serve my purposes, that might help to offset the burden.”

“Could I have some time to think about your offer?”

Chastity nodded.

“Certainly. Take all the time you need. It is my sincere hope that you reject my offer and remain as you are. The world could use a woman like you. Summer, please be so kind as to escort our guest out.”

Chastity stood up and walked out of the living room.

Summer waited until she had left before moving. She walked toward the front door and motioned for me to follow.

As we stepped out onto the front porch, Summer said to me, “If you have any brains, you’ll stay a woman.”

I looked at Summer and saw nothing but sincerity in her eyes.

“Are you telling me that because you prefer to be a woman?” I asked her.

“I’m telling you that because a life as Aunt Chastity’s manservant could only be an unimaginable hell,” she said.

Summer turned her back to me and gazed out toward the ocean.

“Are you happy as a woman?” I asked.

Without turning to look at me, Summer said, “If it hadn’t been for the fact that I got pregnant, I probably would have chosen to be turned back into a man. Not because that’s what I really wanted, but because I was a dumb kid, and I was scared. I made a lot of dumb mistakes as a guy. That’s the kind of person I was. I’m glad I got knocked up. I mean, I love my son, he’s my whole world. And life is better as a woman. Aunt Chastity is right about that.”

Summer paused for a minute before continuing.

“In answer to your question, I am happier as a woman, but I’m not happy. How can I be happy when I’m basically Aunt Chastity’s prisoner? I’ve dreamt of running away from her, of taking my son somewhere far away. It’s just not that easy. Life is too complicated to fix my problems by simply running away. I don’t know what your life is like now, but whether you stay a woman or become a man, the one thing I can promise you is that your life will be worse with Aunt Chastity in it.”

That was quite the warning. I had never had someone open up like that to me. I was finding that women had an easier time making themselves vulnerable than men did, and Summer’s words were a perfect example of that.

“There are a lot of things I’m enjoying about being a woman,” I admitted. “I’m just not sure I can handle it. A part of it is…well, the physical aspects of love. I haven’t handled those well as a woman. Sex is different for a woman than it is for a man, in more ways than I had ever imagined.”

Summer surprised me by giggling.

She turned around to look at me, “That’s hardly something to worry about. Sex as a woman is great. It’s honestly the best part of being a woman. Well, second best part after being a mother. That’s the best part of being a woman, motherhood. If you ever have a child, you’ll understand what I mean. But the sex…I will never forget my first orgasm. It was an out of body experience. I can’t compare what it’s like as a woman to what it’s like as a man because I was a virgin when Aunt Chastity transformed me, but sex as a woman is incredible.”

“Wow. Really? I was a virgin, too. As a guy, I mean. I wasn’t a girl for a day before I got my cherry popped. It’s crazy. I go my whole life as a guy never being able to lose my virginity, and it takes me one day to lose it once I become a girl.”

Summer laughed again.

“Me, too. I mean, I didn’t lose my virginity the day after becoming a woman. It actually happened like a week later. But it sure was a lot easier to get that out of the way as a girl than as a guy. One of the perks of being a woman. Now I’m seeing this great guy I met at work. Not only is he great in bed, but when you throw love into the mix, actual love, that makes the sex even better.”

I smiled at Summer. For the first time since I had been transformed, I had met someone who understood what I was going through.

Unable to help myself, I stepped over to Summer and hugged her. She must have felt the same way, because she hugged me back tightly.

“I am so glad I met you,” I said. “I didn’t think anyone else on the planet knew what this was like.”

Summer grinned. “Don’t be so sure about that. You and I aren’t the only girls in the world who started out as boys.”

I gave Summer a nervous glance. “You mean Chastity has done this to other men?”

Summer shook her head. “Not that I know of. I just mean there’s plenty of magic in the world, and this sort of thing isn’t unusual. I’m sure you’ll meet other girls like us, especially if you choose to keep studying magic.”

I exchanged numbers with Summer and told her I would keep in touch. Then I got into my car and began driving home.

It was amazing. I had come to see Chastity to look for some ray of hope. And I had found exactly that, but not from Chastity’s unsettling offer to transform me back into a man in exchange for becoming her servant. I had found hope in meeting Summer, someone who knew exactly what I was going through. And despite the disturbing circumstances that had led to her transformation, Summer was happy with her new life…or at least she seemed like she would be happy if she could find a way to get out from under Chastity’s thumb.

As I drove home, for the first time since Mort had told me that I was stuck as a woman, I was beginning to think things might be looking up for me.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I held Paul’s hand and leaned against his arm as we walked down the hall that led to his dorm room. His shirt was untucked, and his tie hung loose around his neck. I wore a tight-fitting black dress with a plunging neckline. I walked barefoot with my strappy three-inch heels held casually in one hand. While I enjoyed the feel of Paul’s hard, muscular arm, the main reason I leaned against him was to steady myself because I was too drunk to walk in a straight line. It didn’t make much sense to lean on Paul, though, considering that he was just as drunk as I was.

“That party was lame,” I said, slurring my words.

“You asked me to take you, babe.”

“I didn’t think everyone who showed up would be a douchebag.”

“It was a frat party. Only douchebags are allowed.”

I leaned against the wall beside the door to Paul’s room as he fumbled with the lock for several minutes before opening it. Then we stumbled into his room. Thankfully his roommate was nowhere in sight. Probably still at the party. Paul lurched over to his bed and tossed himself on it, lying flat on his back with his legs over the edge of the bed. I tossed my heels on the floor, and exercising great effort to stay on my feet, I removed Paul’s tie from around his neck and hung it from the doorknob outside his room before locking the door. The tie would serve as a word of warning to his roommate.

As I turned back toward Paul lying on the bed, I tripped and fell to the ground.

“Are you okay, babe?” he asked me.

“I’ll live.”

The alcohol had robbed me of my sense of balance. I was not deterred. I got up on all fours and crawled over to Paul. I was hot and wet between my legs, and I needed him. I just hoped he wasn’t too wasted to get it up. He could go down on me if it was that bad, but I really wanted him inside me.

Once I reached the bed, I got up on my knees and reached for Paul’s belt buckle. I quickly got his pants and boxer shorts down around his ankles.

“You want to suck my dick, babe?” he asked in a drunken stupor.

“Always,” I said as I wrapped one of my hands around his cock and gave it a playful squeeze.

Paul had the cutest cock I had ever seen. It was an adorable rosy pink color and plump even when he was soft. I leaned toward his penis and kissed the tip of it, just like I was giving Paul a peck on the cheek. Then I ran my tongue over the head of his penis, swirling it around and around. Paul moaned with pleasure.

I smacked my lips as I savored the salty sweet taste of his cock. It was a great tasting cock. I sucked on it for several minutes, occasionally pausing to cover his cock in kisses from the head of his penis down to his scrotum. I was pleased when Paul’s penis began to swell and rise like a thick, meaty pike stabbing into the air.

Paul’s breathing became faster, and he began making funny squeaking sounds when I licked him in just the right spots.

“You like that, baby?” I asked him.

“You’re a great little cocksucker.”

“I’m your little cocksucker, baby.”

As the noises coming from Paul became more excited, I could feel my pussy getting hotter. The more Paul enjoyed himself, the more I enjoyed myself. Nothing got me off like getting my man off.

I unzipped my dress and pulled it off me. Then I undid my bra and slipped the thong I was wearing down off my legs. I felt so sexy kneeling next to the bed, completely naked, going down on the man I loved.

I was compelled to spoil Paul further by leaning over his crotch and nestling his cock between my tits. He loved titty fucking me and I loved the feel of his big, hard dick between my boobs. I squeezed his cock tightly between my tits. He moaned loudly and rapidly. I could feel fluid leaking out of my pussy and down my inner thighs. I was getting so horny playing with Paul’s cock.

“I want you to come inside me, baby,” I said. “I want you to come inside me hard. Can you do that, baby? Can you fill me up with your cum?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said with urgency. “Anything, babe, anything. Make me come, babe. I want to come so bad, babe. My cock is throbbing.”

I smiled. I gave the tip of his cock another quick peck. Then I crawled on top of Paul, no easy task given how drunk I was. I almost fell off the bed a couple of times as I tried to mount him. I was able to straddle Paul between my legs, his fat cock slapping haphazardly against my belly button. My pussy was soaking wet and ready for him, but I knew that if I wanted him to burst like a busted fire hydrant, my pussy wasn’t the best tool for the job. And I desperately wanted him to gush semen.

I positioned myself over his cock and lowered my ass onto it. I grabbed his cock with one of my hands and deftly guided it into my anus. I winced as my sphincter stretched to accommodate his member. I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out in pain. This was always the worst part. Once he was through the opening, I slowly slid his cock into my rectum. The pain began to fade away as my anus touched the base of his shaft and was replaced by a wonderful sense of fullness.

“Fuck yeah!” Paul shouted. “Your tiny ass feels so good.”

I always enjoyed feeling Paul inside me, wherever it was that he penetrated me. The feeling of his cock in my ass, however, gave me the most intimate sense of pleasure. When he was in my ass, it felt like he filled my entire body. I liked that feeling. It overwhelmed my senses.

My sphincter tightened around his cock. I raised myself slightly then lowered myself again, repeating the motion over and over, speeding it up as I did so. Before long, I was jumping up and down on his cock like a bunny, my tits bouncing wildly around on my chest. He reached up with his hands and grabbed my tits, clutching them tightly as if holding on for dear life.

I tried to ask him if he was enjoying my ass, but I couldn’t form any words. Instead, I let out incoherent shrieks of ecstasy. I was breathing rapidly, like I was sprinting down a track. Thick rivers of sweat began to pour down my face, chest, and back.

For his part, Paul kept screaming, “Fuck yeah! Fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!”

With great effort, I managed to focus just long enough to shout, “Come for me!”

Paul was eager to oblige. I felt Paul’s cock writhe around inside me, slamming against the walls of my rectum as if trying to escape. Then I felt something hot splash against my insides. I could feel him spurting inside me as he grunted in satisfaction at his accomplishment.

I stopped bouncing up and down on his cock. I remained on top of him, grinning happily as I watched the scrunched-up expression on his face relax, the muscles in his face melting into a sloppy smile.

I felt a little depressed as his cock grew soft and slid out of me. That sensation of him shrinking and slinking out of me was always sort of tragic. I loved having Paul inside me and hated to let him go. A few moments later, his semen began to leak out of my anus and run down my legs.

I got off Paul and collapsed in bed beside him. I nuzzled up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and shoulders and resting my head on his hard pecs.

“I belong to you,” I whispered to him. “I am yours. I love you.”

Paul snored. I giggled and soon fell asleep.

I woke with a start. The alarm clock told me it was 6:00 a.m. For a moment, I wondered where Paul was. I turned my head to look for him, not understanding how I had left the dorm room where we had fucked.

Then I realized it had only been a dream. Or a memory. Or the memory of a dream. It was all so confusing.

It had been several years since me and Paul had been together. I had graduated from college months ago. Now I was working at a law firm as a secretary. I was living with a group of other girls in a townhouse we were renting. And I wasn’t the girl who had slept with Paul. I was a man who had been transformed into the girl who had slept with Paul.

Over the last several nights, I had experienced intense sex dreams, or rather Kelly’s memories of making love with various men. The girl I had become certainly loved sex. I wasn’t sure I could survive her intense sex drive. I felt like I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t get some relief soon.

It was Sunday morning. The day before I had gone to visit the witch Chastity to figure out if she could transform me back into a man. She had said she could if I would agree to be her slave.

But I had also met Summer, someone who had gone through what I was going through. That alone had been worth the trip.

Today was the day that the girls and I would be watching the game down at the sports bar with Johnny and his friends. I was eager to see Johnny, far too eager. I did not want to repeat the fiasco with Marco, and I promised myself that no matter what happened I would not fuck Johnny. Not today.

I wondered whether I could really resist, given how badly my body was aching for the touch of a man. I would find out soon enough.

I got out of bed, used the bathroom, and showered. I dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue and gold Mustangs jersey I had bought at a sporting goods store the day before after my visit with Chastity.

As a man, football jerseys had hung loose on me, practically like a dress. As a woman, the jersey I had purchased was a much tighter fit. The jersey showed off my figure the way a man’s jersey never would. I had tried on some men’s jerseys at the store to capture the fit I was familiar with, but the smallest men’s jersey hung down to my knees and was way too baggy on my tiny frame. I was stuck with the revealing women’s jersey.

I was about to put my hair up in a ponytail, but then I thought about the jokes that the girls had been making about me looking and acting like a tomboy. I didn’t want to come off that way with Johnny just in case it was a turn off for him. I mean, I wasn’t planning to sleep with the guy, but I wanted him to like me. I decided to put my hair up in a pair of unplaited pigtails. It was simple and would keep my hair out of my face, but it also looked playful and girly. That felt like a happy medium.

When I was done getting dressed, I grabbed my phone and called Erica. I wasn’t sure she would take my call so early on a Sunday morning, but after a couple of rings I heard her say, “What happened?”

“And here I thought you might not care.”

“I’ve been on the edge of my seat,” Erica said. “I would have called but I was nervous. From the fact that you’re calling me, I assume Chastity didn’t turn you into a toad.”

“Witches actually do that?”

“The more merciful ones do,” Erica said. “Others engage in far less playful antics when they get upset.”

“There’s hardly anything playful about Chastity. She offered to transform me into a man if I would agree to be her familiar. Isn’t a familiar like a witch’s pet or something?”

“A familiar is a servant who is bound to his master by a spell. Folklore usually depicts familiars as animals who possess magical abilities they use for the benefit of their masters, but familiars are normally people who are under the magical control of their masters. It’s an ancient system of ritual slavery. I caution you in the strongest possible terms not to accept that arrangement.”

“I appreciate the advice, but it didn’t exactly sound like a tempting deal. She has a hatred for men that she doesn’t even try to hide. Chastity had a nephew that she transformed into her niece. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on between them, but Chastity makes her niece’s life miserable. Her niece practically told me that my life would be a living hell as Chastity’s familiar.”

“I’m glad I don’t need to talk you out of accepting Chastity’s offer. You have other options. Better options.”

“Thanks for trying to help, Erica. Chastity may not have provided me with the solution I wanted, but I was at least glad to meet her niece. It feels better to know I’m not the only person in the world going through something like this.”

“You’re not alone, Kelly. Please don’t forget that.”

I said goodbye to Erica and hung up the phone.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Touchdown!” I squealed excitedly as I threw my arms up in the air.

Beside me, Johnny smiled and shook his head. The Mustangs had just scored their third touchdown of the game while the Bandits had only managed a single field goal. The Mustangs’ touchdown was rewarding enough but seeing the cute dimples on Johnny’s face when he smiled was even better. I could scarcely take my eyes off the man.

“Why doesn’t the other team have one of their guys run to the other end of the field and then throw him the ball?” Becky said as she drank from her beer and grabbed another hot wing out of the large tray sitting in the middle of the table. “They’re never going to score if they keep throwing the ball to a guy who is just standing in the middle of the field.”

My roommates and I sat at a table in the sports bar with Johnny, Ian, and two of their friends. Ray was a so-so looking guy with close-cropped black hair and Quinn was cute and fair-skinned, but wore a goofy smile on his face. Like Johnny and Ian, Ray and Quinn were physically imposing. I began to wonder if Johnny and his buddies were construction workers or had spent time in prison. They were friendly enough so maybe they just enjoyed working out at the gym.

“Excellent insight, Becky,” I said sarcastically. “You missed your calling as a football coach.”

“And why don’t any of the players who catch the ball ever toss it to someone else before they get knocked down?” Emma asked. “There are like ten other guys out there who can take the ball.”

“Throwing a lateral pass to a teammate when you’ve got multiple defenders on your ass is tough to do,” Ian said. “There’s also the risk of accidentally throwing an illegal forward pass. And making a throw to the end zone isn’t easy when the team in possession usually starts out from near their own twenty-five-yard line. You’re asking a lot from your quarterback and receiver.”

“This game has too many rules,” Emma complained.

“I’d say girls don’t know anything about football,” Ian said, “but Kelly already proved me wrong.”

“Yeah, well, Kelly was a dude in a former life,” Becky said as she took another drink from her beer.

“It’s true,” I said. “I miss being able to pee standing up.”

Johnny laughed. “It is the best part of being a guy.”

During the half-time break, a reporter on the sidelines interviewed Mac Kirkland.

“Okay,” Becky said, “now I see the appeal of this game. That boy is beautiful.”

“I might just start following football,” Emma said as she leered at Mac.

“I told you he was easy on the eyes,” Ashley added.

“That’s why I wish I played in the NFL,” Ray said. “Those bros have to beat the women off with a stick.”

“You don’t need to play in the NFL for that,” Quinn said with his goofy grin. “The girls were all over us when I played football in high school. Nothing says alpha male like playing football. Women can’t resist a man who tosses the pigskin.”

“As if,” Becky said. “The football players at my high school were a bunch of sweaty gorillas. If they’d looked anything like that guy, then I’d have been all over them.”

“I don’t know,” Emma said. “The football guys at my school were ripped. They had that going for them. But some of them were ugly as fuck.”

“The idea that every girl drops her panties for a football player is bullshit,” I said. “When I played…I mean, when my boyfriend played football, no girls gave him the time of day.”

“Yeah,” Quinn said, “but he got you, didn’t he? You’re hot. That totally proves my point.”

Johnny smacked Quinn on the back of the head. “Don’t be rude, asshole.”

Quinn put his hands up apologetically. “Sorry, no disrespect. But I mean, you’re a pretty girl and you went for a football player. You see what I mean?”

Johnny glared at him.

I said, “Yeah…but, I mean…there was this guy on the team, six feet tall, nice looking, nothing wrong with him. Maybe he kept to himself a little. That guy graduated from high school a virgin.”

“He was probably gay,” Ray opined.

“Yeah,” Quinn said. “If a guy plays football in high school and can’t get laid, he’s probably not interested in girls.”

Johnny nodded. “The knuckleheads are being crass about it, but I’d have to agree. Even the fattest lineman on our team had girls all over him. Granted, not every girl in school went for football players, as your friends point out, but, yeah, I’d say most football players have their pick of girls. If a guy plays football and doesn’t get a girl, it’s probably because he isn’t interested.”

I could feel my face reddening. More than a few people in high school had called me gay because I wasn’t able to get a girl. Johnny and his buddies were basically doing the same thing now.

“I wasn’t…I mean, he wasn’t gay,” I said feeling irked. “Just because he couldn’t get with a girl doesn’t mean he was gay.”

“Take it easy,” Johnny said. “No one is making any insinuations about your high school friend. Sometimes a guy can be cool and good-looking and maybe he just doesn’t have a lot of skill with women. There were guys like that in my school, too.”

I drank my beer and tried to relax. They weren’t calling me gay, and I shouldn’t have gotten upset.

The more I thought about it, maybe Johnny and his friends had a point. I mean, four years after high school, I now had breasts and a vagina and I was wearing pigtails, sitting next to a man I was practically swooning over. I was also fighting powerful urges to get him into bed. Now that I was a woman, the idea of sex with a man was extremely appealing. Maybe the reason that, as David, I had been a virgin at twenty-two was because I wasn’t really interested in girls.

“No,” Becky said. “A guy who can’t lose his virginity is either gay or a loser. There’s no other explanation for something like that.”

Right then, I felt like punching Becky in the nose.

“Imagine losing your virginity to that girl,” Ian said.

The camera crew was filming scenes of the owner’s box again. Sexy Lexi stood next to her husband Ethan, a vacant expression on her beautiful face. Her husband patted her ass and pulled her close to him. She forced a smile to her face.

“Who’s that?” Quinn asked, his jaw practically falling to the floor.

“You’ve never heard of Lexi Zuckerman?” Becky asked incredulously. “She’s the most famous porn star in the world. Her husband is one of the richest men alive. How can you not know Sexy Lexi?”

“You must have been living under a rock,” I told Quinn. “I watch her videos all the time. I didn’t know it was possible to be a man and not know who Sexy Lexi is.”

Johnny had been in the middle of drinking his beer when I spoke. He started coughing and spit up some of his beer.

“Sorry,” Johnny said. “You watch porn?”

Before I could say anything, Becky said, “Is that really so shocking for guys? Yes, girls watch porn. Girls like sex. I swear, every guy acts like it’s some mind-blowing revelation when they find out that girls watch porn. Come on, girls star in porn all the time, why is it so shocking that we watch porn, too?”

“Hey, I’m all for girls watching porn,” Ian said. “If you ever want to get together at my place and have a viewing party, I’m down.”

Everybody got a good laugh out of that comment.

“In your dreams,” Emma said.

“I hope so,” Ian said.

Half-time ended and the game continued. It was a slaughter, with the final score coming out to thirty-eight to nine in favor of the Mustangs.

“In your face!” I said to Johnny. “My boys are going all the way to the championship this year!”

“Yay!” Becky cried. “The game’s over, now we can focus on drinking.”

“Drink up,” Ashley said. “Kelly’s new friend is picking up the bill.”

“Aww,” I moaned playfully as I patted Johnny’s back with one hand and squeezed his thigh under the table with my other hand. “Poor baby. I feel bad taking advantage of a boy who doesn’t know anything about football. Let me make it up to you. I’ll buy you dinner tonight.”

“Really?” Johnny asked with a cute smile.

“Yes. It’s the least I can do for a guy who has gotten me drunker than I’ve been since college.”

“If you’re serious, it’s almost dinner time now,” Johnny said. “There’s a great Mexican restaurant a few blocks away. We can walk there.”

“You’re taking Kelly to a Mexican restaurant?” Becky said. “Isn’t the two of you going to a Mexican restaurant like someone from China eating Chinese food?”

“I eat Chinese food all the time, dumbass,” Emma said.

“Yeah, but you’re Chinese, you’re not actually from China,” Becky said. “Besides, Johnny has to stay here and keep paying for our booze.”

“Let them go,” Ian said. “I’ll keep paying for your booze until your liver gives out.”

Becky raised her glass toward Ian with a smile on her face. “Much appreciated, handsome.”

“Cool,” Johnny said. “I’ll close out the tab and Kelly and I can get going.”

As Johnny took care of the bill for the afternoon’s festivities, Ashley leaned over to me and said, “Please don’t go to bed with him. I think he likes you, but if you fuck him, it’s probably the last you’ll hear from him.”

“Don’t worry, mom, I’ll keep my legs closed,” I said.

Ashley grinned. “Good luck with that.”

As we walked down the street, I looked up at Johnny. He was about as tall as I had been as David, and I had to crane my neck to look up at his face. I was surprised by how aroused I was by his height. If every girl felt this way around a tall man, I really had something going for me as David.

Johnny looked down at me and said, “You’re not like other girls.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. It’s refreshing to meet a girl who isn’t dying to see the latest romantic-comedy.”

“I’ve recently started getting into rom-coms,” I said, thinking back to my recent experience with Girl Fight. It wasn’t technically a rom-com, but it was definitely a chick flick.

Johnny shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect.”

A few minutes later, we arrived at a non-descript Mexican restaurant called Doña Fortuna’s. We asked the hostess for a table, and she sat us near the bar. There was a television on the wall behind me and another on the wall behind Johnny. One television was showing a baseball game while the other was showing the news. It must have been early because the place was practically empty.

Our waitress soon showed up to take our drink order. Johnny’s eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of our waitress. My eyes probably did, too. She was a beautiful Latina, with dark hair and a skin tone possibly a shade lighter than mine. Like the hostess and the other waitresses in the restaurant, she wore a traditional white Mexican dress with red and green stripes running horizontally across her skirt. The neckline was modest but did nothing to hide her impressive breasts. While her skirt hung loose down to her knees, the shape of her curvy hips and plump ass were still in evidence. I gauged that her height was about the same as mine. Her face was something to behold. Maybe I was cute, but this girl was absolutely gorgeous.

In a sexy Spanish accent, the waitress said, “Buenas tardes, my name is Dulce and I’ll be your waitress. Would you care for a drink?”

I ordered a margarita and Johnny ordered a beer.

After the waitress left, I looked at Johnny and said, “You want to pick your tongue up off the floor?”

Johnny smiled. “I noticed your expression when you saw her, too.”

I smiled back. “She could be a model or an actress. Why is she doing a dead-end job like this?”

“Some people never catch their lucky break. What do you do to pay the bills? With your looks, model or actress isn’t off the table for you.”

“Me?” I asked, taken aback. “Yeah, I guess I am super hot for a dwarf. I’m sure there are websites that cater to fans of tiny girls. No, I’m not a model. I’m a cliché, actually, a college-educated girl working as a secretary. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an engineer for an oil company,” he said. “I help design refineries.”

“Sounds sexy.”

“I bet.”

“I wanted to be an engineer when I was in college,” I said.

“Really? What happened?”

I shrugged. “I was too stupid to do math.”

“Come on. I know that’s not true. You’re obviously a very intelligent woman.”

“True. I started out with a major in engineering. My minor in partying got in the way.”

Something over my shoulder caught Johnny’s attention and he said, “Oh, hey, look at this clown.”

I turned around and looked at the television hanging on the wall behind me. A handsome middle-aged man in an expensive suit was holding a press conference.

“Isn’t that Alfred Stryker?” I asked.

“That’s the guy. He’s the senator who spent years running on a platform of deporting illegal immigrants. Then a few months ago, he completely changed his position. Now he’s proposing all these bills to help immigrants.”

“I don’t buy it,” I said. “Tigers don’t change their stripes. Whatever his politics, he’ll always be an asshole.”

Our waitress, Dulce, arrived as Johnny and I were talking about Stryker. As she set our drinks on the table, Dulce looked at Stryker on the television and said, “People can surprise you sometimes, señorita. They can change in all sorts of ways.”

I studied Dulce carefully. Maybe her career prospects were limited by her immigration status. I knew better than to ask.

“I guess she has strong opinions on the subject,” Johnny said after Dulce took our meal order and left.

“What about you, Johnny? What do you have strong opinions about?”

“I have a strong opinion about you.”

“Good or bad?”

“Yes,” he said.

I giggled.

“My opinion is that I’d like to see you again,” he continued.

“Okay. But can we try something that doesn’t involve big sweaty men pushing themselves to the point of exhaustion?”

“You’re tired of watching football with me?”

“I was referring to your friends trying to handle my roommates,” I said.

Johnny laughed. “I was sort of picturing something involving just the two of us.”

I grinned. “Oh, that sounds enticing.”

“The fair is in town. Would you be interested in checking it out next Saturday? Or does that sound a little too childish for a mature, sophisticated woman like yourself?”

“After watching a game with me, I would think you would realize that nothing is too childish for me.”

“That’s what I figured.”

After dinner, Johnny and I walked back to the bar where his car, a luxury SUV, was still parked, and he gave me a ride home.

Johnny stopped his car in front of the townhouse and said, “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

“That’s supposed to be my line, Romeo,” I said with a smile.

I stared into his warm, inviting eyes for a moment, then leaned in and kissed his lips. The feel of his tender lips against mine sent tingles throughout my body.

I leaned back and stared at him again. “Something to think about until I see you again.”

Then I stepped out of the car and walked to my front door, all the while feeling like I was floating on air.

Chapter Twenty-Five

For a wonder, the next few days were devoid of any curveballs. I would get up early for my morning run. Then it was off to work where I would try to survive Brooke’s mean girl antics and avoid Hunter’s predatory moves, all the while making sure Mr. Baxter always had a fresh cup of coffee on his desk. In the evenings, I would hang out with the girls and read the magic books I bought from Erica. These routine activities would be punctuated by texts I exchanged with Johnny, which always gave me a pleasant thrill, and calls with Summer, which were pleasant in a different way.

I made quick work of Erica’s books, and what I gleaned from them made me doubly glad I had not taken Chastity up on her offer. Binding spells, the sort of spells witches used with their familiars, were a disturbing component of the dark arts, the magical equivalent of chains and handcuffs. I didn’t intend to give anyone that kind of power over me. Besides, the more I learned about physical transformation spells, the more I began to think that I could master them.

When I finished Erica’s books, I decided that before I went to see her again to get more, I would cleanse my mental palate by reading something a little lighter. I grabbed one of the romance novels off my shelf and read through it in a single evening. It was called Virgin Love, it was about a young woman named Evelyn who was so focused on getting good grades in school that she graduated from college a virgin, never even making time for a boyfriend. After she graduates, she gets her dream job in the marketing department of a women’s fashion design company. She does great there and is quickly promoted. Before she knows it, she’s twenty-five and still a virgin. As Evelyn begins to accept her spinster lifestyle and focus more on her career, she meets Lionel, a chronically unemployed actor, at a friend’s party. He’s a slacker who dropped out of college and gets by on his charm and carefree attitude. They immediately fall for one another. Despite her best efforts to cut the guy out of her life, Evelyn grows enamored of Lionel and loses her virginity to him. Their relationship blossoms. He shows her how to relax and have fun, she shows him how to set goals and work to achieve them. At the end, she’s offered a position with much higher pay at a company across the country but turns it down to stay with her lover. For his part, Lionel’s newfound focus lands him a lead role on a successful television series. And they live happily ever after.

The plot was bland and predictable, but the way the author captured Evelyn’s feelings grabbed my attention. I was able to empathize with her and the feelings that came with meeting someone who got your heart fluttering, the feeling of waiting anxiously to see someone you’re crazy about. The sex scenes also moved me in a way that adult movies didn’t. The way the author described how making love to Lionel made Evelyn feel got my juices flowing. For all his faults, Lionel was quite sensitive and caring, always putting her first. The author captured the way I wanted a man to feel about me perfectly.

When I was done reading the romance novel, I played with myself again. Something different happened this time. As I imagined myself in Evelyn’s place, a loving man making tender love to me, I became excited in a way that I had never experienced before. My excitement grew and grew as I continued to stroke my womanhood. Eventually I felt muscles inside me contract and spasm, and I felt spent. I couldn’t say for sure that I had experienced an orgasm, but it was the most satisfying physical experience I had yet enjoyed as a woman.

I suppose that men rely more on visual stimulation when it comes to sex and women rely more on mental stimulation. In any event, I began reading through my collection of romance novels after that experience.

One morning as I was getting dressed for work, I was unable to find a pair of pants in my wardrobe. It looked like I had gone through all of them and had to do laundry. I didn’t have time to do a load of laundry, so instead I quickly shaved my legs and wore a skirt to work instead. I had plenty of those. I found that skirts were way more comfortable than pants and I started wearing them to work regularly.

Perhaps as a result of my wardrobe change, I had another less pleasant experience during the week after my dinner with Johnny. Hunter continued to pester me at work, this time demanding that I have lunch with him. He badgered me like this for days until I finally relented and agreed to go with him.

We went to the nearby diner where those construction workers had made vulgar remarks about me. Hunter was a perfect ass. He spent the whole time talking about himself and how great he was, how much he was paid, the kind of car he drove, and how many women sought out his company. He didn’t bother to ask me anything about myself. He complimented my looks, of course, and gave me all sorts of unsolicited advice about how I could enhance my appearance. He was considerate enough to advise me that I didn’t need breast implants because my breasts were already huge.

When he mentioned that he was taking evening classes at a local law school, that reminded me that I had to prepare my own applications to law school. That had been my plan as David, and I saw no reason to change that now. Granted, my position as a secretary probably wouldn’t prepare me for law school as well as David’s position as a paralegal would have, but it wouldn’t preclude me from applying.

Brooke, being the bitch that she was, gave me a hard time about spending time with Hunter.

“I heard you ‘had lunch’ with Hunter,” Brooke told me in our shared office as she leaned over my desk and glared at me. She stressed the words ‘had lunch’ and made them sound salacious, as if the phrase were referring to a tawdry sex act prohibited in multiple states. “Is that what they’re calling it these days? I figured it was only a matter of time before you began to target the men in the office for your escapades. Most people have sense enough not to shit where they eat, but I guess not everyone has enough self-control for that.”

“Gross,” I said to Brooke. “Don’t make it sound like we hooked up in some seedy motel or something. He kept bugging me to have lunch with him. It was the only way I could shut him up. I didn’t want to go, and it was even more unpleasant than this conversation, if you can believe that.”

“Sure,” Brooke said. “Whatever you say. I’m sure you’re chaste as a nun in a convent. Who could doubt it? Just make sure that you don’t ‘have lunch’ with any men in the office who are spoken for. If I ever hear that you’re doing anything inappropriate with Henry, I will claw your eyes out. Do you hear me?”

“Brooke, why do you hate me so much? You act as if I’m some kind of whore because the men in the office are way too friendly with me. I don’t invite their attention and if there was some way of stopping it, I totally would.”

“Please, spare me the innocent virgin routine. I know the kind of girl you are, Kelly. You coast through life thinking that you can get anything you want by flaunting your big fake tits around. The little modesty act you’ve been pulling for the past couple of weeks, dressing down and not wearing makeup, that isn’t fooling anyone. Have some self-respect and try to get ahead by using your brains instead of your body.”

“My boobs are not fake,” I protested as Brooke walked away from my desk.

That was probably not the most sophisticated response to her scathing rebuke, but it was what came out of my mouth. I didn’t understand why women had to tear each other down like that. Life was hard enough with men treating us like pieces of meat, we didn’t need to treat one another like punching bags.

Feeling like shit after Brooke’s latest attack on me, I made some time to have dinner with Summer. I needed a reminder that not every woman in the world instantly resented me.

Summer and I were very different people, but our common experience brought us close together. She worked as a waitress and had met her boyfriend Teddy, a trucker, when he dropped in to eat there. She felt that they were getting serious and was happy about that. But she was afraid of moving too fast for the sake of her son. The three of them had gone out a couple of times, and Teddy seemed to get along with her son all right. She just wanted to be sure that Teddy was ready to take on the responsibility that came with being a father figure.

While she was glad that I had declined Chastity’s offer to transform me into a man, Summer cautioned me about my decision to learn magic. She felt that studying magic could have a negative influence on a person. She had witnessed Chastity teach magic to other young women and had seen it affect them firsthand. She suspected that magic was part of the reason that Chastity was so cold toward her.

I took Summer’s words to heart as I visited Erica at her shop one day after work to purchase more books. I told Erica that I was confident enough with my knowledge of magic to begin casting some simple spells. She felt I was pushing myself too far too quickly but nevertheless provided me with some books that would help teach me to cast spells.

I was getting ahead, if not always as smoothly as I would have liked.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Saturday, the day I had been longing for, finally arrived. I had been thinking about my date with Johnny all week. I wanted to look good for him.

I put aside my signature look of a t-shirt with jeans. Instead, I wore a baby pink fitted camisole crop top with a scoop neckline and a short denim skirt with a pair of cowboy boots. I didn’t wear a bra with the camisole and my nipples poked out like a pair of pitcher’s mounds. I was showing off a broad expanse of cleavage along with my flat tummy and belly button in the skimpy camisole. I knew I was revealing a lot of skin with my chosen outfit, and it would invite a lot of men to sneak glances at me. But they would stare at me regardless of what I wore, and I wanted to invite Johnny to look my body over all he wanted. I didn’t want to sleep with him yet, but I wanted to give him a preview of what was coming his way if he played his cards right.

I decided to wear my hair down, no ponytail or pigtails. To that end, I had carefully brushed my hair when I blow-dried it after taking a shower. My hair had plenty of natural volume along with a pleasant sheen to it, and I didn’t have to do much to style it. Several locks of my hair periodically fell down my forehead and over my eyes, but I patiently swept them back behind my ear whenever they did.

I took another big step out of my comfort zone. I put on makeup. I had enough of Kelly’s memories that I now knew how to apply it. I cleansed and moisturized my skin, applied primer, then added foundation and concealer. After carefully contouring my face to give it some depth, I added some bronzer, although the shade I picked was a tad too dark for my complexion. Finally, I applied some eyeliner, eyeshadow, lip liner, and lipstick. When I was done, I barely recognized my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a sultry runway model. I was pleased with the fruits of my labor.

When I opened the front door after Johnny rang the doorbell around 10:00 a.m., the look on his face told me he was pleased, too.

“Kelly? Is that you?”

“In the flesh,” I said. “Were you expecting someone else?”

The adorable dimples on Johnny’s face as he smiled made my extra effort worthwhile. His eyes dropped down to my feet, worked their way up my legs and exposed tummy, lingered for a few seconds on my generous cleavage and exhibitionist nipples, then moved up my neck and came to rest on my face. I loved the feel of his eyes moving over my body, taking it in and appreciating it. I would have loved it even more if he would have used his hands to explore my body rather than his eyes.

“I hardly recognized you,” Johnny said. “You look drop-dead gorgeous.”

I wanted to tell him that I had done it all for him, that this look was for his enjoyment. I wanted him to know how much I wanted him to want me.

Instead, I said, “Oh really? You mean I look like crap the rest of the time?”

“No, of course not. You always look good. Now you look even better.”

I feigned indignation as I said, “Is that all you care about? My looks?”

“No,” he said, a trace of worry in his voice. Then he smiled again. “Will you cut that out, Kelly? I think you’ve busted my balls enough the last couple of times we hung out. Just take the compliment.”

The thought of his balls distracted me for a moment. I was very curious about what he was packing downstairs.

With great resolve, I pushed aside thoughts of Johnny’s manhood and said, “Sorry. I wanted to see if I could get you a little tongue tied. You know I’m a playful girl.”

“Playful? That’s not the word I would use.”

“Don’t tell me what word you would use. I want us to be friends. Okay, if I can’t get you tongue tied, let’s see if I can’t find another use for your tongue.”

He smirked. “What were you thinking?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was referring to stimulating conversation.”

“Sure you were.”

I gave Johnny a coy smile and winked to let him know he had read me right. I was sure he could use his tongue for something more stimulating than conversation.

We got in his SUV and drove to the fairgrounds. Along the way, we talked and teased one another. We discussed a wide range of topics. Sports, politics, movies, books, our jobs.

I was thrilled to learn that he had not only read As Among the Stars but that it was one of his favorite novels. As Among the Stars was a science-fiction story about scientists developing the technology to effectively grant people eternal youth and make them immortal. The novel explored how the technology affected a group of characters over hundreds of years and focused on the challenging ethical and moral dilemmas such technology would create.

“I had no problem with Caliban helping Professor Hauser euthanize himself,” I said to Johnny.

“Caliban basically murdered Professor Hauser. How can you be okay with that?”

“Professor Hauser was in agonizing pain. That virus he contracted was destroying his body, but the immortality treatment kept him from dying. What Caliban did was an act of mercy.”

“You think it’s okay for people to commit suicide?”

“Absolutely,” I insisted. “Life can be filled with unbearable pain. You should always have the option to punch out if things get too hairy.”

“I respectfully disagree,” Johnny said.

That was what I liked most about Johnny, he was more than just a pretty face. He stimulated my intellect. And unlike almost every other man I had met since becoming a woman, he valued my thoughts and opinions. To Johnny, I wasn’t just a pair of tits. I was a person with a mind full of views worth discovering and exploring.

The parking at the fairgrounds was packed and the line at the ticket booth stretched a long way. As we waited in line to buy our tickets, I noticed several men checking me out. The ones with girlfriends and wives had to be careful about sneaking glances at my body to avoid getting caught by their women, but the ones who were there with friends were shameless in looking me over and pointing me out to their pals.

I held Johnny’s hand and leaned against him.

“Feeling affectionate, are we?” Johnny said.

“Don’t get too excited,” I said. “There are a bunch of pervs leering at me and I need them all to know that I’m here with a big, strong man who will kick their ass if they come near me. Since I don’t have a man like that here with me, I’m going to have to rely on you instead.”

“I’ll try to look tough.”

We got our tickets and entered the fair. The large crowds were initially intimidating, especially with my body gratuitously on display. At first, I felt as scared as I had felt that first night at the mall when I realized my nipples were showing through my shirt. A lot more than my nipples were showing now. But with Johnny by my side, I began to feel more comfortable. After a few minutes, I even began to enjoy the attention I was getting. The looks of carnal desire the men were giving me and the envious stares women were sending my way became flattering. I began to feel the way I felt when I went for my morning runs in my skintight shorts and revealing sports bra, I felt young, athletic, and sexy, feminine in the best way possible. I was proud to be a beautiful woman. It was exactly the feeling I had wanted to experience when I made my wish.

I could tell that Johnny also felt good about having me on his arm and showing me off to the world. Johnny was plenty hot in his own right but seeing me on his arm put people on notice about exactly how hot he was. He could score the kind of girl most men only fantasized about. He carried himself a little taller and projected a lot more confidence.

As those thoughts ran through my head, I realized how conceited I was becoming. I began to worry that maybe there was more truth to Brooke’s criticisms about me than I was willing to admit. I decided to make a concerted effort to try and be a little more modest in the way I viewed myself.

Johnny led us past several booths with carnival games. I pointed to one booth covered in large stuffed animals.

“Win me that giant stuffed gorilla,” I said.

“Why should I win you anything?”

“Because you’re a man at a carnival and you are morally obligated to win your girl a prize.”

“You’re my girl? Since when?”

“If you win me that gorilla, I will be.”

“Is that a promise?” Johnny asked.

I tilted my head to the side, smiled suggestively, and wagged my eyebrows at him.

Johnny stepped over to the booth and paid the attendant. There was a stand about thirty feet from the counter where the attendant stood with several milk bottle stacked on top of one another. The goal was to knock them down with a ball. After getting paid, the attendant handed Johnny three balls.

“This one’s for you,” Johnny said to me before throwing the first ball.

He threw the ball, and it flew past the stack of milk bottles he had been aiming for.

“Strike one,” I said.

He frowned at me before throwing the second ball. The second ball he threw sailed several feet over the milk bottles.

“Strike two,” I said.

The third ball he threw bounced off the side of the booth and fell to the ground well short of the milk bottles.

“Strike three,” I said. “You’re out, mister.”

I gave him a soft shove and said, “I guess you don’t really like me.”

“Well, I’m not feeling crazy about you just now.”

I reached into my purse, grabbed a few dollars, and handed them to the attendant. He handed me three balls. I handed two of the balls back to the attendant and said, “I’m only going to need one.”

Johnny and the attendant both laughed.

I assumed a starting pitch position on one leg, and after a generous wind-up I flung the ball at the milk bottles. The ball hit the mark dead center and all of the bottles crashed to the ground. I told the attendant to hand me the giant stuffed gorilla.

As I handed the gorilla to Johnny, I said, “See, I like you enough to win you something.”

“How did you do that?” Johnny asked as he took the gorilla.

“I played ball in high school,” I explained. “I had a wicked slider. If I could have moved my fastball faster than eighty miles per hour, I might have had a shot at the pros.”

“I’m sure there were a lot of professional teams eager to swoop you up,” he said. He looked at the stuffed gorilla. “I’m supposed to carry this around all day.”

“Yes. It’s yours.”

“You were the one who wanted the gorilla.”

“Yeah, but I have my big gorilla right here,” I said as I wrapped my arms around Johnny and kissed his cheek.

With the stuffed gorilla accompanying us, we got on several of the rides, watched the pig races, visited the petting zoo, caught a magic show, and watched professional stunt men perform tricks on dirt bikes. We took a break to eat some of the unhealthy fair food, including foot long hot dogs, cotton candy, funnel cake, and a turkey leg we shared.

Toward evening, a cover band held a concert on a stage set up in the middle of the fair and played popular rock and roll hits. We decided to watch and found a spot near the stage.

Several members of the crowd stepped into an open area right in front of the stage and danced to the music. Benefitting from memories of some dance choreography Kelly had picked up while a cheerleader, I now knew how to dance considerably better than I had that first night I had gone out with the girls. Armed with my new dance skills, I stepped out onto the dance floor, raised my arms over my head, and rocked my hips and moved my feet to the beat.

The crowd was very impressed by my dance moves and cheered me on. The audience’s applause was peppered with several lewd catcalls. I didn’t care about any of that. I was performing for an audience of one. The stupid grin plastered on Johnny’s face as he watched me dance was all the encouragement I needed.

Night fell and I begged Johnny to take me for a ride on the Ferris wheel before we left. As Johnny, the stuffed gorilla, and I gradually ascended to the top of the wheel, I clutched his arm tightly and nestled my face against his shoulder.

“I’m terrified of heights,” I admitted to him.

“Then why did you want to ride this thing?” he asked.

I raised my head, looked up to his face, and stared into his eyes.

“Because I thought the incredible view we have from up here would make a romantic backdrop for this.”

I raised myself up out of my seat and kissed him. I slid my tongue into his mouth. Our tongues caressed and stroked one another. He leaned down and placed his hand against the back of my head, gently pressing my face closer to his. As his lips explored mine, I felt muscles between my legs tighten and contract rhythmically as my panties grew moist. An intense warmth emanated from my womanhood and grew hotter as our kissing intensified.

Finally, after a long time, I pulled away from Johnny and gasped.

“That was one hell of a first kiss,” I said.

“I couldn’t agree more. My heart is pumping so fast, I’m worried it might be my last. I guess we’re not counting those pecks you gave me before.”

“Those pecks weren’t in the same league as that kiss.”

After we had a chance to catch our breath, we continued our make out session on the Ferris wheel. All the anxiety I felt over my fear of heights melted away. The whole rest of the world melted away. All I knew was the feel of Johnny’s arms wrapped around my body, the sensation of his tongue sliding over mine, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

We left the fair and Johnny drove me home. I held his hand as he drove and gazed at him the whole time. He was gorgeous. He was smart. He was funny. He was kind. He was mine…or I hoped he would be. With each additional moment I spent with him, I wanted him more.

He parked his SUV in front of the townhouse, and we spent several minutes making out. I fought hard to resist the intense impulse to order him up to my bedroom. My pussy ached with a sense of longing emptiness. I wanted him to fill the vacant void between my legs, to feel the hardness of his manhood deep inside me. But I had made a promise to myself. My days of being an easy slut were behind me.

I reluctantly pulled away from Johnny’s lips and said, “Johnny, I have a secret I want to share with you.”

“What is it?”

“I like you.”

“I would never have guessed,” he said with a coy smile.

I swallowed hard before I continued. “I don’t want this to sound weird, but it’s one of those things that’s going to sound weird no matter how I say it.”

He stared blankly at me. “Whatever it is, it won’t change the way I feel about you.”

I smiled. “I hope not. Listen, I recently went through a major change in my life. The best way to put it is to say that I used to be a completely different person. Something very unexpected happened and I changed. The change was so dramatic, I didn’t even recognize myself. Ever since I changed, I haven’t really liked who I’ve become. I’m making a concerted effort to change who I am because of that. I’m still not completely sure exactly who I am. I’m still figuring that out. But I have a good idea about the type of person I want to become. I like you. I like who I am when I’m around you. The old me wouldn’t hesitate to take you inside and…or maybe the old me wouldn’t have even been interested in you. Ugh. This is hard to explain. Look, the point is I need you to be patient while I figure things out.”

Johnny gently stroked my cheek with his hand and looked into my eyes.

“Kelly, are you trying to tell me that you’re in the middle of a divorce?”

“No, I’m not married.”

“Are…were you a lesbian?”

“No!”

“Then are you saying that you used to…”

“Stop!” I cried. “Stop trying to figure it out. To be honest, I don’t fully understand it myself. I’m only trying to be honest with you. I don’t want you to think I’m not interested. I am. But I’m in the process of trying to figure out who I am and how to become the person I want to be. That means I need to take things slow.”

“That’s fine,” Johnny said with a smile. “I don’t have any trouble with that. Kelly, I know we just met, but I have a strong feeling about you. You’re a stunningly intelligent woman, you’re funny, your friends love you, and I’m sure you’ve been told your whole life how beautiful you are, so I won’t bother to tell you again. You’re a great girl, and I’m eager to get to know you better, whoever you turn out to be after this change you’re going through. Take as much time as you need, I don’t want to rush you into anything. I’ll wait for as long as you need me to. A girl like you doesn’t come by very often, and I’m not going to blow this chance with you.”

Right then and there, I wanted to drag Johnny upstairs, strip him naked, and fuck his brains out. To this day, I have no idea how I fought that soul-burning desire.

Instead, I gave Johnny another kiss on his lips and said, “Good night. I can’t wait to see you again.”

“I’ll be counting the seconds,” he said.

I stepped out of his SUV and took slow, hesitant steps toward the front door of the townhouse. A few moments later I heard his SUV pull away from the curb and drive off. I stopped walking toward the door, turned, and watched him drive down the street. I wanted so badly to chase after him and bring him back.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Over the next few days, Johnny and I texted non-stop. Every time I received a message from him, my heart did a little backflip. We spoke over the phone every night before we went to bed. After we got off the phone, I would take risqué selfies and send them to him. Then I would crawl under the sheets and finger myself as I fantasized about all the dirty things I wanted Johnny to do to me. In the morning, I would take more tantalizing selfies and send them to Johnny with instructions to keep me in his thoughts. Considering the types of images I sent to him, I was sure I was never far from his mind.

I told the girls every detail about my date with Johnny. They were impressed at first, but after a few days about hearing me talk about him endlessly, they grew irritable and begged me to shut up. It was hard to indulge them.

Ashley was proud of me for managing to restrain myself. She knew how hard it was for me to turn Johnny away from my bed. She assured me that I was making the right decision, that not only would he respect me more the longer I put it off, but that the sex would be even better when it finally happened.

The difficulty I encountered in depriving myself of Johnny led me to reevaluate my take on Brooke. The Monday morning after my date with Johnny, I picked up a latte from a coffee shop on the way to work and grabbed a cup of Brooke’s favorite drink.

When I arrived at work, I handed Brooke’s drink to her and said, “Don’t worry, it’s not poisoned. I’ve thought a lot about what you said the other day. I’m not saying you were right about me, but maybe there was more truth to your words than I cared to admit. No one’s perfect and I’ve looked at some places where I have room for improvement, and I’m committed to changing. As part of that, I need you to understand that I don’t have any impure intentions toward anyone in this firm. And I mean anyone.”

Brooke took the drink from my hand and stared at it suspiciously. “I don’t hate you, Kelly, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just some of the things you’ve done since you started working here, the way you act sometimes, you’ve made me uncomfortable. If you feel like you want to change, I support that. But I’m going to reserve judgment. From personal experience, I know it can be hard for someone to change who they are.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “But as women, we have enough going against us. We can’t afford to turn on one another. Take this olive branch as a sign of good faith on my part.”

Brooke took a sip from her drink, smiled, and went back to work. I reminded myself that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

I tried to bury the hatchet with Hunter as well by being less hostile toward his advances and trying to be a little more friendly. That backfired on me. He was soon convinced I wanted to sleep with him. One day while I was using the copy machine in the hallway, I felt a pair of hands grip my hips and gently push me to the side, gripping my buttocks lightly in the process.

“Sorry,” I heard Hunter say as he walked behind me. “Just squeezing through.”

I turned to see him smirking lasciviously at me as he continued on down the hallway. Clearly, being more tolerant of Hunter wasn’t the solution. I would have to think of some other way to handle him.

The day after my unwelcome encounter with Hunter, I began to feel unwell. My breasts began to swell and felt extremely tender. Wearing a bra became torture. Then I experienced painful bloating. I thought something I ate had given me gas. When I felt painful cramps around my belly, I suspected food poisoning. But then I went to use the restroom. When I pulled up my skirt and dropped my panties down to my ankles, I saw several drops of a viscous, dark crimson fluid on the crotch of my underwear.

“Oh my god!” I exclaimed as I realized what was happening.

During my lunch break, I drove to the pharmacy where I had purchased the morning after pill and grabbed some sanitary pads. When I went up to the register to pay for them, I was annoyed to find the same red-haired, pale-skinned guy with a goatee who had been there when I bought the pill after my night with Marco. Without any other options, I had him ring me up and paid for the pads.

I placed a couple of the pads in my purse and returned to the restroom at work. I carefully placed the pad in my panties and resumed working.

I felt disgusting going through the day with menstrual fluid gathering on the pad in my panties. It felt like I was wearing a diaper. A soiled diaper at that. After only a couple of hours, I could feel that the pad had to be changed. The disgusting crimson ooze was gushing out of me.

When I got home the evening after my period began, I went to my room and immediately passed out on my bed. I was exhausted. I slept through the whole night without waking once, not coincidentally dreaming of Kelly’s first period at the age of twelve. That one was no more pleasant than the present one.

On the second day of my period, I didn’t even want to get out of bed. My vagina was sore, almost as bad as it had felt after my night with Marco. I seriously thought about calling in sick to work, but I powered through.

For three days, menstrual fluid poured out of me, and I felt like absolute crap. Every minute of those three days I reconsidered Chastity’s offer to turn me back into a man. Being her slave could hardly be worse than going through this once a month until I hit menopause. The only hesitation I felt was over the fact that, if I became a man again, I would lose any future I might have with Johnny.

On the fourth day after my period began, the flow of menstrual fluid slowed down to a mere trickle and stopped completely by the afternoon. The soreness between my legs abated and the swelling in my breasts stopped. I felt almost human again.

When it was over, I met up with Summer over coffee. She was the only person who could possibly understand how I felt.

“How do you put up with it?” I asked her. “I mean, I felt like I was dying. I’ve never been waterboarded, but if they really want terrorists and spies to talk, the government should find a way to force them to have a period. I would’ve spilled any state secret to make that nightmare stop.”

Summer giggled.

“Don’t exaggerate, Kelly. It’s not nearly that bad. Your first period is the worst. I remember the first one I went through after my transformation. Yikes. I was just starting to have fun being a girl and then I found out I’d have to put up with that every month. But you get used to it.”

“I will never get used to that any more than I would get used to getting my teeth pulled,” I insisted.

“You’ll get used to your period,” Summer assured me. “Think about it. Countless women all over the world experience their period every month. They find a way to cope. You and I aren’t any different. I know this is going to sound kind of weird, but I even sort of appreciate the feeling my period gives me. Not the physical feeling. That’s awful. What I mean is, going through the experience makes me feel like a woman. It’s kind of empowering. I know that’s hard to believe, but maybe it’ll make more sense if you have a baby someday. I never felt happier in my life, either of my lives, than the moment I held my son in my arms after giving birth to him. I felt whole, I felt complete…there’s no other way to say it, I felt like a woman. My period makes me feel that way a little bit because it kind of reminds me that I can have children.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “You’re right. That does sound weird.”

Summer giggled again.

Having my period convinced me to spend more time reading the magic books I had purchased from Erica. Maybe I would never be able to transform myself into a man. I began to wonder if I even wanted to be a man again. But perhaps there was a magical solution to my period. It was an idea worthy of further investigation.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Johnny and I made plans to meet up for dinner and a movie after work on Friday. Considering the week I had gone through, I felt elated when I saw Johnny standing at my front door.

He was dressed in a black silk shirt and jeans. When it came to dressing to go out, there weren’t a lot of high expectations placed on men.

For my part, I wore an off-white corset top with a sleeveless square neckline and matched it with a black slit mini-skirt and a pair of light nude strappy sandals with three-inch heels. I styled my hair and doused myself in makeup, trying out a sultry smokey eye effect I had found in an article online and balancing it with a pale pink lip gloss. I enjoyed the satisfied look on Johnny’s face when he cast his eyes on me at the door, but my modesty notwithstanding, I had enjoyed the look of myself in the mirror even more.

“Did you miss me?” he asked.

I raised myself up on tiptoes, grabbed his face, and planted a sloppy wet kiss on his lips. I pulled back, smiled, and said, “Not really.”

He grinned, put his hands on my waist, and raised me up into the air.

“I didn’t miss you, either,” he said as he kissed me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and squealed with delight when the kiss ended. When he put me back on the ground, I pressed my head against his chest.

“You are a sight for sore eyes after the week I have had,” I said.

As we drove to the theater, I said, “I’m so psyched about this movie. It’s been five years since Milton Kilgore made a movie. I thought he was never going to make another one after the bad reviews his last film received.”

“I wasn’t too thrilled about Dreams of Clockwork,” Johnny said. “The idea was interesting, but the execution was poor.”

“It wasn’t his best work, I’ll admit that, but it hits on the themes that make me love his movies so much. I was blown away when I found out the main character was an android. He defined himself by the way he hated the machines and then he had to deal with being one. It was a total mind fuck.”

“That’s true, and I wish the movie had explored that more. Instead, once he found out he was a robot, he turned against the humans and helped the other robots wipe them out. It went from a psychological thriller to a low-brow action movie.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, because your taste in movies sucks,” I said.

“About as bad as my taste in women, I’d say.”

I laughed mischievously.

Johnny and I held hands as we waited in line at the box office and bought our tickets. The feel of his flesh against mine was enough to make me warm and moist down below.

As we walked into the theater, he invited me to walk up the steps of the auditorium by stepping to the side and placing his hand on my bottom to lightly push me ahead.

I giggled at the feel of his hand on my butt and said, “Trying to catch a sneak preview?”

“Just making sure you don’t lose your balance,” he said.

When we took our seats, I placed my hand on his inner-thigh and caressed it.

“Now who’s trying to catch a sneak preview?” he said.

“I don’t want you to lose your balance and fall out of your seat,” I said.

The movie we watched was called Fear of the Flesh. It was about a scientist who found a cure for cancer that worked by changing a patient’s genetic code. The scientist realized that he could use the procedure to physically change people. His newfound power gave him delusions of grandeur, slowly driving him mad and leading him to experiment on people by transforming them into what he considered living works of art. He gave a woman wings so that she looked like an angel, caused another person to grow a third eye, and transformed yet another person into a jellyfish-like creature. I was unsettled when the scientist transformed the sexist business executive who had funded his research into a woman as a sort of ironic punishment. That one hit a little too close to home. The scientist came up with a plan to use the technology he had developed to transform all of mankind into bizarre creatures to fulfill his demented vision. The business executive destroyed the scientist’s lab to prevent him from carrying out his plan, killing the scientist in the process.

After the movie, Johnny and I had dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant.

As he dug into his lasagna, Johnny said, “Kilgore has really lost his touch. That was nothing more than a weird horror movie. The story had no depth, all the characters were one-dimensional. That was disappointing.”

“You’re not wrong, but that movie was still creepy as fuck,” I said as I spooled some spaghetti around my fork.

“Creepy is right. All that body modification stuff was disgusting. Who could be interested in stuff like that?”

I asked, “If you were transformed into a woman like that one character, would you have killed the mad scientist to save the world, even if it meant being stuck as a woman?”

“Yes,” Johnny said indifferently.

“You would have no problem being a woman?”

“It would be an adjustment, I guess, but you’ve managed just fine. Half the human race seems to be okay with it.”

I took a sip from the glass of red wine I had ordered.

“You’re only saying that because you have no idea how hard it is to be a woman.”

“Enlighten me,” Johnny said.

“As a woman, you’re smaller, you’re weaker, you’ve got to deal with periods, pregnancy, and creepy guys hitting on you all the time. Oh, and you can’t pee standing up. It’s tough.”

“I would think sitting down to pee would be easier. You can take a load off your feet.”

“Granted, but it takes so much longer.”

Johnny stared at me for a moment before saying, “Come on, there must be something you like about being a woman.”

I took another sip of red wine and thought for a moment.

“Relationships. Not with guys. With other girls. Women have deeper, more meaningful relationships with other women. It’s easier for women to be vulnerable and open up to one another. It makes for stronger friendships.”

“That’s funny,” Johnny said after he took a drink from his beer. “In the past, women have told me that they have trouble getting along with other women. Especially the more attractive ones. Girls get jealous of each other so easily. Didn’t you tell me that the women at your office give you a hard time because of the attention you get from your male coworkers?”

“Ha!” I exclaimed. “There you go proving my point. Do other guys give you a hard time if women hit on you? No. If women are all over you, they think you’re a bad ass. Being a girl sucks.”

Johnny laughed.

“Well, even so, I’m glad you’re a girl. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be going out with you.”

I gasped and feigned dismay. “You wouldn’t go out with me if I were a man?”

“Probably not, what with me not being gay and all.”

“So you really do just want me for my body!”

“That’s less the issue than the fact that I’m not into cock.”

I giggled.

“Don’t knock it until you try it. I used to feel the same way, then I tried one. Now I’m a fan.”

Johnny laughed again.

I slipped my right foot out of the sandal I was wearing and slid it under the table, playfully rubbing Johnny’s left leg with it.

“Ugh,” he grunted. “There’s something poking my leg.”

He reached under the table and grabbed my foot, yanking it up onto his lap. I screeched in protest.

“Gross!” he exclaimed. “What is this hideous thing? I should call the health department. No self-respecting restaurant would allow something like this to crawl around under a table.”

I giggled as he rubbed my foot with one hand.

“You’re so weird,” I said. “I love it.”

“You should talk.”

“Take me dancing.”

“Tonight?” Johnny asked.

“Yes, tonight. Live every day like it’s your last.”

“Okay, but you need to promise to be on your best behavior. You’ve been bad all night.”

“You don’t like it when I’m bad?” I asked as I pulled my foot away from his hand and slipped it down against his crotch.

He grinned as I rubbed him. I could feel something hard pressing against my foot.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said as I pulled my foot away from him.

Soon we were waiting in line outside a night club. I leaned my head against Johnny’s chest as he wrapped his arm around my waist. I grabbed his hand and slid it down to my ass.

“There are a bunch of creeps staring at my butt,” I said. “I want them to know it’s taken.”

“I thought you weren’t going to be bad if I took you out dancing.”

“I’m being a good girl. I’m letting everyone know my ass is spoken for.”

“Yeah right,” Johnny said as he gave me a hard slap on the rear.

“Ow!” I cried. Then I gave him a kiss and pressed my body against his. “That was fun. We’ll have to do some more of that when we’re alone.”

We eventually made our way into the club after paying the steep cover charge. Johnny instinctively gravitated toward the bar, but I pulled him by the hand and led him out onto the dance floor.

“Come on, babe, I don’t have your moves. You can’t expect me to get out on the dance floor without some liquid courage.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “All you have to do is stand there and look pretty. I’ll do all the work.”

True to my word, as soon as we were on the dance floor, I began shaking my hips and ass to the beat of the music. I arched my back and ran my hands playfully through my hair, lightly tossing it around as my feet carried me toward Johnny. I turned my back to him and began rubbing my body against his crotch in rhythm to the music. Johnny’s dance moves were largely limited to waving his arms around and gyrating his hips back and forth, but that was good enough for our purposes. I got excited when I felt Johnny’s erection pushing against me.

We danced for over an hour. What we did on the dance floor was a proxy for what we both wanted to do in the bedroom. I had hoped that it would give me some release from my urges. Instead, our bodies pressing against one another, sweating under the oppressive heat of the dance floor, only served to get my juices flowing. Those mysterious muscles deep within my body began to contract, and that familiar aching emptiness between my legs grew more intense. I wanted Johnny to respect me, but I wanted him inside me even more.

I wrapped my arms around Johnny, looked up at his face, and batted my eyes at him. “Let’s go to your place.”

He gave me the biggest smile I have ever seen and enthusiastically nodded his head.

“You got it.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

A few minutes later, Johnny and I arrived at the condo he owned. He parked his car in the underground garage, and I practically hopped up and down with excitement as we waited for the elevator to come down and take us up to his floor.

“Fuck!” I cried. “Are there any stairs?

“It’s ten stories up,” he cautioned me as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “That’s a long way to go.”

I dismissed his comment with a wave of my hand. “I could race up the stairs in a heartbeat right now.”

“Did I ever tell you how much I love your enthusiasm?”

Finally, the elevator doors opened. I yanked Johnny inside. As the doors closed, I pressed him against the inside of the elevator, jumped on him, wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and planted kisses all over his face. He reached over to the console and pressed the button for the tenth floor. I kissed him as we rode the elevator up. I continued to kiss him as the elevator doors opened onto his floor and he carried me down the hall to his front door. There, he clumsily used his keys to unlock the door as I ravished him.

“Take me to your bedroom,” I demanded when he finally got the door open.

“As if I would take you anywhere else,” he said.

I closed his front door with my foot as he carried me off to his bedroom. He didn’t bother turning on any lights on the way there, so I didn’t get a very good look at his place. I caught glimpses of an impressive living room set and some decorative portraits of cityscapes hanging from the walls. That was of less concern to me in the moment than his bedroom décor.

When Johnny carried me into the bedroom, I said, “Where are the lights? Get the lights!”

He flipped a switch, and we were bathed in bright yellow light. I was pleased to see a king-sized bed covered in light gray sheets and pillowcases with a dark blue comforter. There was a print of Vincent van Gogh’s The Starry Night hanging on the wall over the bed, which would have been a mood-killer under other circumstances, but I was too horny right then to be bothered by the banality of the painting. The floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows that ran alongside the opposite side of the room had the curtains open and looked out onto a scenic view of the city.

Johnny dropped me onto the bed and then moved toward the windows, presumably to close the curtains.

I grabbed his arm and said, “No, leave it open. Let’s put on a show for anyone who’s watching.”

The perplexed look on his face told me that he was debating with himself over whether to do as I asked or to exercise his better judgment instead. He stepped away from the windows and came over to the bed. I was glad he was thinking with his cock. That’s where I needed his head to be.

I pulled Johnny down onto the bed and threw him on his back. I tore off his shirt and tossed it onto the ground. In my haste, I pulled of some of the buttons.

“That’s my favorite shirt,” he said as he watched the ruined shirt fall to the ground.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” I promised as I stared at his massive pectoral muscles. They looked as hard as steel. Below them were an array of finely carved abdominal muscles. I placed my hands on his arms and used my fingers to caress his biceps and shoulder muscles.

After taking a few moments to appreciate Johnny’s body, I bent my head down, stuck my tongue out, and licked his chest. I ran my tongue up and down over his pecs, then began teasing his nipples. I bit down gently on one of them.

“Ow!” he exclaimed.

“Don’t be a little bitch,” I said between taking nibbles of his nipples. “If you can’t handle this, you’re not going to be able to handle all the other stuff I’m going to do to you tonight.”

I ran my hands over Johnny’s chest and covered it with kisses, carefully appreciating the contours of his muscles. My lips worked their way down his abdomen. When I reached his navel, I undid his belt and pulled down his zipper. I yanked his pants and boxers down around his ankles, exposing his erect penis.

My jaw dropped.

“Oh my god! You’re huge!”

I wrapped my hand around his penis. It was so thick that I was unable to touch my thumb to my forefinger.

“I’m glad you like it,” Johnny said as I gently squeezed his cock. “It’s all yours, babe.”

“Damn right it is.”

I extended my tongue and licked the tip of his penis.

“I don’t believe it,” I said with a shocked look on my face as I pulled away from his face.

“What? What is it?” he asked with a worried expression.

“Your cock tastes like pineapple.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he said with a wry laugh. “You’re making this awkward.”

“It does, too,” I assured him. “You don’t believe me?”

I ran my tongue around the tip of his penis like I was licking ice cream. He groaned. I took the entire head of his penis in my mouth and teased it with my lips and tongue. He groaned louder.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “I believe you. It tastes like pineapple. It tastes like whatever you say.”

I giggled and smacked my lips.

“You have a yummy cock, babe,” I said. “Thank you for letting me suck on it.”

“My pleasure.”

I pressed my tongue against the base of his cock where it connected to his scrotum and licked the length of his cock all the way up to the tip. Then I went back down to another spot at the base of his cock and did the same thing. I continued that way until I had licked his whole cock. Then I began covering his massive penis in long, tender kisses. After several minutes of that, I went back to teasing the head of his penis with my tongue and lips before squeezing the whole thing into my mouth and down my throat. It wasn’t easy fitting Johnny all the way inside, but thankfully Kelly had a lot of experience controlling her gag reflex and I was able to accommodate Johnny’s impressive size.

“Fuck,” he whimpered as I took him in my mouth. “Keep going. Please don’t stop, Kelly. That feels so good. Don’t stop.”

Slowly, I pulled my head back and let his cock slip out of my mouth. When I looked at his penis after it was completely out of my mouth, I was astonished by how engorged it was. His cock had filled with so much blood that it had darkened in color by several shades.

“No, no, don’t stop,” Johnny begged.

“Sorry, babe. I don’t want you to come yet.”

I moved down to his ankles, pausing to pull off his shoes and socks before yanking off his pants and underwear and stripping him naked.

Johnny sat up underneath me and raised my arms over my head as he removed my corset top and bra. Once my breasts were exposed, he immediately began fondling them. That sent powerful ripples of pleasure up and down my spine. Then Johnny placed his mouth on one of my nipples and began sucking on it. I gasped at the wonderful sensation his tongue provided me. I could feel my pussy pulsate with excitement as my womanly fluids leaked down my inner thighs.

“That feels so good,” I whispered. “Suck on my tasty titties.”

“You got it,” he said.

I giggled some more.

Johnny slipped his hands under my arms and lifted me up, tossing me on my back. He raised himself up on his knees and quickly tore off my skirt, thong, and sandals. Once he had me naked, he grabbed my ankles and lifted my feet up into the air as he leaned down to kiss my pussy.

I howled with delight at the feel of his lips pressed against my womanhood. Bolts of mind-numbing bliss shot out from my cunt and flowed over my body with the intensity of ocean waves. My heart pumped hard in my chest and my breathing quickened. I writhed under the machinations of his skilled tongue. He was teasing places I hadn’t known existed. I twisted and turned as if trying to escape the intensity of the sensations to which Johnny was subjecting me.

“Oh fuck!” I shrieked. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!”

Muscles tucked away deep within my body suddenly contracted and spasmed. I involuntarily rocked my pelvis back and forth. For an instant, everything went dark. It was only for a moment, but that moment felt like it stretched on forever. In that moment, I felt completely relaxed and content. I was at peace with myself and the world around me. I wanted for nothing except to stay lost in that ethereal moment for eternity. Then gradually physical sensation returned to me, and I could feel my body convulsing with intense pleasure.

“Are you okay?” I heard Johnny ask from his position between my legs.

“Uh…yeah,” I said struggling to catch my breath. “I…I think…I think I came.”

Summer had described her first orgasm as an out of body experience. I thought she had been speaking metaphorically. There was nothing metaphorical about what had just happened. If that was what women’s orgasms were all about, I wanted more.

Johnny gave my pussy another kiss and said, “That’s good, but we’re not done yet.”

He took my ankles in his hands again and raised my legs into the air, pushing them apart and exposing my pussy to his throbbing cock. He pressed the tip of his giant dick against the lips of my tiny pussy. I grew wet at the feeling of his big, hot cock against my womanhood. I had never wanted anything in my life as badly as I wanted his cock at that moment.

“Stick your cock in me!” I demanded.

“Be patient,” Johnny said as he teased my pussy with the tip of his cock. “All good things come to those who wait.”

I groaned in ecstasy as he continued to tease my pussy with his cock.

“Please, baby, stick it in,” I pleaded. “Please. Make me your little cum slut. Fuck me. I need you, baby, I need you so badly. Please stick your cock in me. I want to be your cum slut.”

Johnny reached over to the nightstand beside his bed. I watched him in irritation, greedily wanting him to fuck me. Instead, he opened the drawer in the nightstand and withdrew a condom. He tore open the wrapper and pulled the condom out.

As he was about to slip it on over his erect cock, I cried, “No! Don’t do that! I want to feel you!”

He paused and looked up at me incredulously. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. I’m on the pill.”

Johnny tossed aside the condom and raised my legs into the air again. I felt so excited as I lay on my back with his cock positioned at the opening of my vagina. I could hardly wait.

Johnny grinned as he slid his bare cock into my pussy. I winced as he stretched me open. There was a painful burning sensation as my womanly flesh stretched to accommodate Johnny’s size. He was much larger than any man I had previously slept with. I groaned in discomfort, but I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t care how much it hurt, I needed him to fill me.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked.

“Yes,” I insisted. “Don’t stop. Stick it all the way in. Make me yours.”

As Johnny slid deeper into me, the pain I felt gave way to intense feelings of pleasure. His cock pressed against sensitive areas within my body that reacted to the touch of his flesh with delight. As he began to thrust in and out of me, powerful waves of electricity sprang from my pussy and charged out across my tiny body.

“That feels incredible,” I said in a panting voice.

It felt wonderful lying there on my back, my legs spread and raised in the air, completely in Johnny’s power, feeling him thrust into me. I tried to imagine myself as a man, exercising this sort of dominance over a woman. The idea struck me as ridiculous. I could not see myself in that position as David. I was never a dominant man. The submissive role of the woman seemed more appropriate for me. This was the part I had been meant to play. I felt happy in this position, fulfilled physically and emotionally in a way I had never dared to imagine. I was better off as Johnny’s woman than I ever could have been as a man.

“Oh my god!” I screamed. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Make me your bitch!”

As he continued to pump his cock into my pussy, Johnny grabbed my feet and pulled them toward his mouth, taking the opportunity to lick the soles of my feet. That tickled and sent a tingle up my legs and throughout my body. When the tingling reached my pussy, my muscles contracted. Johnny grunted as my vaginal walls tightened around his dick.

“Wow!” I squeaked. “That feels amazing!”

Johnny kissed and licked my toes one by one. The feel of his lips and tongue teasing my little feet felt good, but the joy I experienced as a result was more than merely physical. Johnny was using my body for his own pleasure. My mouth, my tits, my pussy, my feet, every part of me was being subjugated for his enjoyment. The knowledge of that aroused me. The realization that Johnny was using me for his gratification made the sex better for me. I was his personal sex toy.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yes! That’s hot!”

He kissed my feet as he fucked me, and I began to experience sensory overload. My whole body was vibrating with excitement. It was too much. The feel of his cock stretching apart my pussy with each thrust, his lips and tongue running over my feet, one of his hands massaging my tits. I couldn’t handle it.

My hips began thrusting back and forth of their own accord with no incitement from me, meeting Johnny’s cock each time it plunged into me. My body took on a life of its own as it pressed urgently against Johnny, seemingly trying to swallow his cock and submerge it within my womanhood.

“Oh god! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

My body exploded. Or that was what it felt like. All the muscles in my body tightened and suddenly relaxed. Everything went dark again. I returned to that euphoric state of trans-dimensional bliss. That must be what heaven feels like, the attainment of a perfect state of being.

Then I was back in my body, convulsing violently and shouting at the top of my lungs as I came down from my second orgasm.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck me harder! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

“I’ll fuck your brains out!” Johnny promised.

Johnny was as good as his word. My heart raced and I struggled to swallow enough air into my legs. Sweat was pouring down my face, chest, and shoulders. I shook as my third orgasm overwhelmed me.

I disappeared yet again into that otherworldly place my orgasms took me. I wanted to stay there so badly, to lose myself in that place. But I knew it had to end.

When it was over, I was rocking my hips back and forth, thrusting Johnny’s cock in and out of me, screaming in ecstasy at the amazing sensations he unleashed on my body.

Then Johnny’s face tightened into an expression of pain as he grunted, “Ugh!”

I felt something pounding within my body like a maddened beast beating on a drum. Johnny shuddered and trembled, scaring me with the powerful intensity of his movements. The world spun. My insides throbbed as his giant cock spasmed. I felt a burning heat fill me up inside as he spurted his cum inside me. I could feel his semen flow inside me with all the energy of a raging river. Then a second spurt of semen splashed against my insides. By the time the third spurt unleashed even more of Johnny’s seed into me, I felt like a dam had burst inside my body and I was flooding.

After Johnny’s orgasm ended, my body went limp. I lay lifeless on the bed. I couldn’t move. I was beyond exhausted. I just barely had enough strength to breathe.

Johnny lay on top of me, his engorged cock losing some of its hardness, but remaining large and thick. He was able to stay inside me for a long time after his erection subsided. That made me happy. I didn’t want him to pull out of me. He belonged inside me and that was where he should stay. I was his. I belonged to him. And he had to hold onto me.

He muttered futilely, “That was…that…I can’t think of the words.”

“Perfect,” I mumbled. “That was perfect.”

With an enormous physical effort, I managed to raise my arms and place them around Johnny. I hugged him and planted a kiss on his lips.

It had been several weeks since I had been transformed. But it wasn’t until that moment that I became a woman. For the first time that I could remember, I was happy. Just happy.

Chapter Thirty

Johnny and I made tender, passionate love throughout the night. I lost track of all my orgasms, but I must have had dozens. Johnny came inside me numerous times. I eagerly took him between my legs and in my mouth. At some point, we finally collapsed from exhaustion and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

I woke up around noon and smiled when I found I was lying down beside Johnny with my face against his chest. I propped myself up on my elbows and pulled the blanket off Johnny. I gazed at his naked body, appreciating every part of it. My eyes focused on his prominent erection. I smirked as I positioned myself over his crotch and began sucking on his cock.

Within moments, Johnny woke up and grinned as he looked down and gazed into my eyes. I smiled back at him.

“Best wakeup call I ever had,” he said.

“Not yet it isn’t,” I told him.

I went to work on his cock. He groaned as if in pain. Moments later, he let out a fierce below and ejaculated, filling my mouth with his yummy cum. I happily swallowed his semen then licked his penis clean of any of his remaining sperm.

Once I had swallowed every drop of Johnny’s tasty semen, I looked up at him and said, “Now it’s the best wakeup call you ever had. Your cum is delicious, by the way.”

Johnny struggled to catch his breath. “Help…help yourself to as much as you want.”

We got out of bed and took a shower together. We couldn’t resist going at each other one more time while showering.

Afterward, I made breakfast for us. Technically, I suppose it was lunch.

We made plans to get together again in the evening, and Johnny dropped me off at home so I could get some rest and freshen up.

As I said goodbye to Johnny while he was parked out in front of the townhouse, I hugged him and said, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours to pick you up,” he said.

“That sounds so far away.”

He gave me a kiss and I got out of his SUV.

As soon as I walked through the front door, I heard Ashley say, “There’s our naughty little girl.”

“Here I am,” I said as I strutted into the living room with a big grin on my face. Ashley, Emma, and Becky were sitting in the living room watching something on television.

“Fresh from your walk of shame?” Emma asked.

“More like my walk of pride,” I said. “You bitches can’t slut shame me today. I had way too many mind-altering orgasms last night to care.”

“Slut shaming?” Becky said. “Fuck that. I’m jealous. He was that good?”

“No, he was way better,” I said as threw myself on the couch beside Ashley. “It was magic, pure magic.”

Ashley giggled. “I haven’t heard you talk that way about a guy before.”

“I’ve never felt this way about a guy before,” I said.

I gave the girls the play-by-play on the previous night. They sat enthralled and hung on every word.

“Damn,” Becky said. “Is Johnny down for a threesome?”

Emma gave Becky a hard shove and scowled at her.

“What?” Becky said. “Who wouldn’t want to get in on that action?”

“Forget it. He’s all mine and I’m not going to share.”

Ashley smiled. “I’m glad to see you so happy, honey. I just hope you’re not rushing into anything.”

“I don’t think I am. I’ve got a great feeling about Johnny.”

“Trust your instincts,” Ashley said. “At least Johnny has you taking an interest in how you look again. I was starting to worry you were going to style your hair into a pixie cut and begin wearing baggy jeans and steel-toed boots.”

“I’m not gay,” I said.

“We were starting to wonder,” Emma said.

Becky nodded.

I got up off the couch and said, “I have to go. Johnny and I are going out again tonight and I need to get ready.”

“If you guys are going to fuck again tonight, bring him here,” Becky said. “If you tire out, you can tag me in.”

I flipped Becky off as I made my way upstairs to my room.

Once in my room, I collapsed on my bed and took a nap for several hours. My weekend had so far been exhausting and it was only Saturday afternoon.

I woke up around 4:00 p.m. and began getting ready. I showered and shaved my legs. Then I dressed in a backless denim halter dress with a pair of espadrille wedge sandals. After applying my makeup, I touched up the nail polish on my fingernails and toenails. Johnny swung by to pick me up after 6:00 p.m.

I kissed him when I met him at the front door and said, “It feels like forever since I last saw you.”

“It was like four hours,” he chided me.

We went to a beachside restaurant with a beautiful view of the ocean for dinner. Afterwards, we went for a walk along the beach. As night fell, I grew bold and led Johnny to a secluded cove where we made love under the moonlit sky. Then we went back to his place and spent another enchanted evening making love to one another.

He dropped me off at home early the next morning after we made plans to meet again later that afternoon. By then, my head was swimming in pleasant daydreams where I married Johnny, had his children, and raised our family in a nice tract home in the suburbs surrounded by a white picket fence. Only a few weeks before, the idea of being a man’s wife and raising his children would have disgusted me. Now it was the stuff of fantasies.

I removed my makeup, showered, and got dressed in a white rib-knit V-neck tank top with a plaid miniskirt and black over-the-knee suede boots. As I applied my makeup and styled my hair, I realized how right Ashley was. I was dressing the way Kelly had dressed in my memories from before the transformation. I noticed that some of my color and style preferences from my time as David had changed. When I stopped to think about it, even my tastes in things like movies, books, food, and music had changed a little. That made me wonder if Kelly’s personality had in some ways subsumed mine. Perhaps that was why the idea of being a wife and mother now appealed to me. There was no way to be sure.

After I was done getting ready, I grabbed my phone and called Summer. She answered and I could readily tell from her cheery tone that she was happy to hear from me. I told her what had happened with Johnny, and she insisted on immediately driving down to speak with me in person. We arranged to meet up for coffee later that morning.

About an hour later, I was sitting at a table in a café sipping a latte when Summer walked through the door. She beamed as she saw me and waved. I got up and wrapped her up in a tight hug. She ordered some coffee, and we sat down at our table.

“You really didn’t have to come all this way on my account,” I told Summer.

“This is a big deal, Kelly. Losing your virginity is one thing but falling in love is something else. It means way more.”

Love? I hadn’t thought of it that way. I mean, of course I was in love. What else could make me feel the way I did? But I hadn’t stopped to think about the significance of what that meant.

“Yes,” I said with a grin. “Love. I am in love. For the first time in my life, I’m in love.”

“For the first time in your life as Kelly. From what you’ve told me about your memories of your new life, the girl you’ve become has been in love before. But this is your first time in love. I take it you were never in love as David?”

I nodded. “Sure, I had crushes on girls I barely knew or never spoke to, but no, I never had the chance to fall in love as a man.”

“I was the same way. In fact, it’s only in recent months that I can honestly say I’ve fallen in love. All the fun I had with boys when I first became a girl doesn’t count, of course. That was just mindless sex. The only meaningful thing that came out of that was my son. But my relationship with Teddy has taught me how much better love is than meaningless sex.”

“It’s the best thing in the world,” I said. “Every waking moment of my life is filled with this fulfilling sense of purpose, this drive to move forward and see what’s next. Before, especially as a man, I always felt like I was going through the motions, living because I didn’t want to die, not because I actually took any joy out of life. Now, every moment feels like a gift.”

“I feel exactly the same way,” Summer said. “It’s a great feeling. You need to understand, it can be dangerous. It’s a tired cliché, but we don’t think straight when we’re in love. It’s important to think clearly for a woman. There’s so much more at stake for us.”

A light clicked on in my head.

“Oh. Do you mean like your son?”

“Yes. Sex carries more consequences for women than it does for men. Everyone knows that. Most people don’t realize love is the same way. I’m glad you’re in love with Johnny. That’s great. Before you do anything you may regret, you need to make sure he’s in love with you. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that you’ve chucked any thought about becoming a man out the window now. Am I right?”

I was about to respond with an enthusiastic “yes,” but I hesitated. Yes, a part of me wanted to be with Johnny forever, dreamt of becoming his wife and the mother of his children. But there was still a part of me that wanted to get back to my old life. I tried to understand why, but I couldn’t explain it.

“I…I’m not sure, Summer. I’m happier as a woman than I ever was as a man. There’s still this nagging feeling, though. A part of me at least wants to have the option of being a man again, even if I decide I’m better off as Kelly.”

“You need to figure out what you want before you take things any further with Johnny,” Summer cautioned me. “Today, I’m happy as a woman. Nothing could ever force me to go back to being Sean. I’d do anything to remain the woman that I’ve become. But I didn’t always feel like that. I chose to remain Summer because I loved my son, even before he was born, not because I was sure that was what I wanted. For a long time afterward, even though I felt I made the right decision, I second-guessed myself. I dreamt of becoming a man again. Mostly, I think, because I felt like that was my real life, even if it was a miserable life. My life as Summer, as great as it is, felt like a life that was forced on me. No one likes feeling like something was forced on them. Maybe you’re going through that right now.”

“Maybe,” I conceded. “What do you think I should do? Should I stop seeing Johnny until I’m sure I want to remain a woman? I don’t think I can do that. But if I’m being completely honest with myself, I can’t say that I’ve gotten the thought of becoming a man again completely out of my head. Oh, Summer, I don’t know what to do.”

Summer put her hand on mine and looked into my eyes. “I can’t tell you what you should do. You just need to be true to yourself. I know that’s not easy. I’m going through the same thing right now. That’s one reason I had to come see you.”

“What is it, Summer?”

Summer took a deep breath, smiled, and said, “Teddy proposed to me.”

“Oh my god!” I cried. “That’s wonderful!”

I leaned over and gave Summer a hug.

“It is wonderful. I said ‘yes,’ of course. There’s no doubt that I’m in love with him and want to spend my life with him.”

“Then what’s the problem?” I asked.

Summer looked at me with a pensive expression on her face. “What do you think, Kelly?”

I sighed. “Chastity?”

Summer nodded. “When Aunt Chastity finds out that I’m going to marry Teddy, she’ll find some way to lash out at me. It’s in her character. She just hates me so much and wants me to suffer. It’s like she can’t allow the slightest happiness to creep into my life. The only happiness she ever let me hold onto was my son, and I think she only did that because she sees him as a part of my punishment.”

“That’s horrible, sweetheart. But I need to be blunt with you. You’re never going to know a moment of real happiness until you stand up to Chastity. That’s just the plain truth.”

“I know,” Summer said. “Believe me, I know. It’s just not that easy. I’ve tried to explain to you before. That’s why I understand what it’s like to be in your shoes. It’s time to make some tough choices.”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s time to make some tough choices.”

Chapter Thirty-One

If only I had known how prescient my conversation with Summer was to become. The days and weeks that followed were definitely filled with tough choices.

My love for Johnny made me realize how much happier I was as a woman, that much was true. In accepting my feelings for him and embracing my womanhood, however, something else awakened in me. It was more than just the fact that I now regularly wore makeup, styled my hair, and felt more comfortable in skirts and heels than I did in jeans and sneakers. Aspects of Kelly’s personality that had remained dormant since my transformation suddenly began to assert themselves in ways big and small.

I didn’t recognize it at first because I was so crazy about Johnny. In fact, for the first time since my transformation, I began to feel like things were beginning to get back on track.

At work, I began going out to lunch with Brooke and the other girls. They became more accepting of me once they realized I wasn’t the shameless slut they had thought I was. I could tell they even began to like me.

One event in particular helped to change my coworkers’ opinion of me. One day Mr. Baxter told me to assign some work to Hunter. He needed a motion prepared and gave me the details to pass on to Hunter. I had no desire to speak with Hunter for fear of being subjected to his casual sexism. It was a simple motion and I had prepared several similar ones for Mr. Baxter as David. I figured I could spare myself the hassle of dealing with Hunter by preparing the motion myself. That was just what I did.

I didn’t bother telling Mr. Baxter that I had prepared the motion. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Then, the day after I had turned the motion in to Mr. Baxter, he called me into his office.

“Close the door,” Mr. Baxter said as I stood before his desk. I dutifully shut the door to his office. “Is there something you’d like to share with me?”

“Uh…I tried a new blend when I made your coffee this morning,” I said. “I know you don’t normally like that fancy gourmet stuff, but I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Mr. Baxter raised his eyebrows at me. “Now that you mention it, my coffee did taste a lot better when you brought it to me this morning. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. The draft of that motion I assigned to Hunter a few days ago didn’t look like his work. I’m familiar with the way he writes, the way he composes arguments. It was nothing like that.”

“It wasn’t?” I said nervously.

“It wasn’t even close,” Mr. Baxter said drumming his fingers on his desk. “I think maybe you know why.”

I folded my hands in front of me and looked down at my shoes.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Baxter. I never assigned the motion to Hunter. I thought that maybe I could take a crack at it. I didn’t mean to cause any problems and I won’t do it again.”

Mr. Baxter laughed. “I’m hoping you’d be willing to do more of the same moving forward. I don’t know how you picked up the skill to put together something like this, but your work product is better than Hunter’s. I went to discuss the motion with him, and he had no idea what I was talking about. There was only one possible explanation. I’d like to promote you from secretary to paralegal. If you think you can do work like this on a regular basis, you can make a much bigger contribution in this office as a paralegal than you can by making me coffee. Your promotion will come with a significant raise, of course. What do you think? Are you up to the challenge, Kelly?”

“Oh my god!” I shouted. “Yes! Of course I’m up for it! Thank you so much!”

I ran over to Mr. Baxter, bent down, and gave him a hug. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as my breasts pressed against him. Realizing how awkward that must have been for him, I let go and stepped away.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

“That’s, uh, okay, Kelly,” he said. “You should be excited. Clearly, you’ve picked up a lot in your short time here. I’m proud of you.”

Brooke and the other girls in the office were happy for me. The promotion made me feel great. It was a sign that people were beginning to see me as more than some vapid airhead with a good body. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I felt like the men in the office began to treat me differently, too.

I was so filled with confidence after I got my promotion, that I decided to take the plunge and cast my first spell. I had been studying the books I bought from Erica carefully to learn the fine art of physical transformations. I decided to start with something simple that didn’t require any natural skill, it was the type of spell anyone could perform with the right information.

In the evening, after work, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom. After reading and re-reading the instructions multiple times, I recited an incantation in Latin as I mixed some sage and other ingredients I had gotten from the supermarket into a bowl full of tap water. I don’t know what I had expected to happen, but there was no howling wind or blinding light. Hoping I had done everything right, I dipped my hands into the bowl, soaked them with water, then ran my hands through my hair. I stared in amazement at my reflection as the color of my hair changed from black to blonde. I ran more of the water from the bowl through my hair and before long every strand of my hair had transformed into a platinum blonde color.

When the transformation was complete, I ran to Ashley’s bedroom and burst inside. She was lying on her bed reading something on her phone. Ashley looked up at me and her eyes widened.

“What the fuck did you do?” she asked as she hopped out of her bed and ran over to me. “If you wanted to bleach your hair, you should have asked me for help.”

Ashley stood over me and ran her fingers through my hair with a puzzled expression on her face.

“How did you do this?” she said.

My face fell. Ashley was a beautician. If anyone knew about changing hair color, it would be her. If the results didn’t pass muster, then I must have done something wrong.

“Does it not look okay?” I asked.

“I’ve never seen a dye job like this. The color is perfectly even all over. There’s no smell. There are no split-ends, and your hair feels…silky. I’m pissed that you went to see someone else to do your hair. Who did you go to?”

“I did it myself,” I said.

“Bullshit. I don’t know anyone who could do a treatment like this. I mean, if I didn’t know better, I would swear you were a natural blonde. It looks perfect. How could you do something like this?”

I smiled and said, “Magic.”

Ashley glowered at me.

When Johnny and I went out to a restaurant to celebrate my promotion, he asked me about my hair while we were eating.

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s a different look for you,” Johnny said.

“Different good or different bad?”

“Different. I fell for a raven-haired beauty. I was never a fan of the blonde bimbo look.”

“Bimbo?” I repeated. “Honey, bimbos don’t get promoted for their brains.”

“I know you’re not a bimbo. The thing I like most about you is your intelligence. You’ve got a head full of ideas and you’re not afraid to speak your mind. That’s sexy.”

I leaned my elbows on the table and cradled my chin in my hands, exposing a lot of cleavage to him.

“Are you sure that’s what you like most about me?” I asked.

He gazed at my boobs for a minute then looked up at me.

“Yes. Don’t get me wrong, you’re not bad looking, but if I had to choose between your beauty and your brains, it’s an easy choice.”

I leaned over the table and gave Johnny a kiss. He always knew exactly what to say to warm my heart.

The only drawback to my promotion was that I was reassigned to share an office with Hunter. That was when I realized something had changed about me for the worse.

Naturally, now that I spent every workday trapped in the same room with him, Hunter took every opportunity to shamelessly leer at me. He would also subject me to endless suggestive conversation. When we had shared an office together when I had been David, he had never shut up about his libido. It was little different now that I was Kelly, except that instead of bragging to me about all his escapades with other women, he artfully hinted at all the things he could do with me. While he had constantly talked about his girlfriend when I had been a man, he now carefully avoided mentioning the girlfriend I knew he still had and never brought up any girls he cheated with.

The strange thing was, I didn’t mind the way Hunter leered at me. I began to enjoy the feel of his eyes running over my body, undressing me in his head. God help me, his invasive glances would get me hot and wet between my legs. And although my initial instinct when he directed inappropriate comments toward me was to tell him to fuck off, instead I found myself encouraging his banter, even flirting with him.

The abrupt change in my behavior reminded me of the change in my sexual orientation that had come with my transformation. I hadn’t been able to change the fact that I now found men physically attractive and that the most beautiful women in the world didn’t stir a thing in me. When I had gotten into bed with Marco and then later with Johnny, my body had taken on a life of its own. I had found myself doing things without respect to what I would have thought of my actions as David. In Marco’s case, that had led to some traumatic regret. In Johnny’s case, it had led to the happiest period of my life. In any event, I had not acted with forethought when it came to my sexual desires, I had become a creature driven by pure instinct. It was suddenly much the same way with Hunter. I enjoyed the attention he directed toward me and promoted it, notwithstanding the fact that I was in love with Johnny, and I knew Hunter to be a scum bag.

After several weeks of dating Johnny, indulging Hunter’s advances, and practicing more spellcasting, I returned to Erica’s shop one evening after work.

I walked into her shop to find Erica sorting some books on a shelf. She glanced at me and said, “Uh-oh.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Who said anything is wrong? I took one look at you when you walked in through the door and saw that you’re in love. I never said that was bad. But love always complicates things.”

I smirked. “Is it that obvious?”

“It is to me,” Erica said. “I can see your aura, remember? You’re literally glowing.”

“Oh, I forgot about that,” I said.

“How goes the study of magic? I assume you’re having some luck with physical changes, from the look of your blonde locks. I certainly hope you’re not casting any love spells. Those are more dangerous than a loaded gun, and they cause far worse injuries in my experience.”

“I’ve been able to make small changes to myself just fine,” I said. “Things like my hair, the color of my nails. I can even get the hair on my legs to stop growing. I don’t miss having to shave my legs or pubic hair. I’ve had less luck with changing other things. I bought a pack of playing cards and tried to change some of the cards to aces. They didn’t turn out quite right. I guess that’s because mana flows more freely through living things than it does inanimate objects.”

“You never cease to impress me,” Erica said. “That’s exactly right. That’s one of the many reasons reality alteration spells are so difficult. I would recommend transforming a rodent into a different type of rodent. Maybe turn a hamster into a gerbil or something. Normally, I would recommend practicing with a less ambitious goal in mind, but you really have a gift for this. I think you can start practicing with rodents and work your way up to primates in due time.”

I wondered for a moment where I was supposed to find primates to practice with, but instead I said, “There’s something I wanted to ask you about. You said that part of the process of adjusting to a new reality was seeing my personality change, maybe even having my personality erased. Lately, I’ve been acting differently. There’s this guy at work, he’s a real creep. He was that way in the old version of reality, too. He’s been hitting on me and acting inappropriately since I became a woman. I think he’s disgusting, but recently I’ve started encouraging his advances, even though I can’t stand him. It’s not like me at all and I’m acting like this…well, I’m acting like this against my will.”

Erica stopped shelving books and stared at me with an arched eyebrow. “Is this the man you’ve fallen in love with?”

“Oh, fuck no!” I protested. “I’ve started dating someone else, the most wonderful man in the world. His name is Johnny. He’s the exact opposite of this creep at work.”

“And this behavior towards your coworker began after your feelings for Johnny developed?” Erica asked.

I nodded.

“It sounds like a psychologist may be a more appropriate person to talk to about this,” Erica said. “Or at least a psychologist with a background in reality alteration spells. I can only speculate. Tell me something, from the memories you’ve gleaned through your dreams, is this man at work the sort of man Kelly has been attracted to in the past?”

“Well, he’s an asshole, so I’d have to say yes. In fact, most of the men Kelly has fallen for were guys that in my life as David I hated. Hunter fills that bill perfectly. I couldn’t stand him when I was a man, I dislike him even more as a woman.”

“Interesting,” Erica said. “Perhaps in the absence of your influence, Kelly would have gotten involved with this man Hunter. When you developed feelings for Johnny instead, it may have created a schism in your mind. You may have fallen in love with Johnny, but maybe the woman whose body you inhabit thinks she was supposed to have fallen in love with Hunter. That aspect of her personality may be asserting itself, trying to put you on the right, path as it were. The right path from her perspective at any rate.”

I gasped. I had suspected that Hunter was Kelly’s type. All the guys she had fallen for…Randall, Carlos, and Paul…had attitudes similar to Hunter. They were all arrogant, domineering men who used women and then tossed them away like trash. Could it be that Kelly’s personality was trying to force me to fall for Hunter?

“That’s a terrifying thought,” I said.

“It’s times like this I wish I had a destiny orb.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s sort of like the holy grail for psychics,” Erica explained. “As you know, we psychics specialize in divining the future, or rather possible futures, with varying degrees of success. Destiny orbs are the stuff of myth and legend. It is said that centuries ago people could use destiny orbs the way we use crystal balls today, but instead of just being able to view events across time and space, destiny orbs allowed someone to view other realities. If I had a destiny orb, I could look into an alternate reality where you never became Kelly and figure out who she ended up with.”

“Why can’t you get your hands on a destiny orb now?”

“To begin with, there are those who say they never existed. Even those of us who believe that they did exist concede that they probably would have been destroyed during the wizard wars. Wizards always had an aversion to any sort of magic that involved altering reality or visiting other realities.”

Erica walked across the room to another bookshelf and pulled a book out. She sifted through its pages then walked back and handed me the book, pointing to the page she had found.

“This book does a good job of memorializing most of the folklore surrounding destiny orbs and other mystic relics,” she said.

I took the book from her hands and looked through it.

“Could you grab me some of the supplies I’ll need to practice transformation spells?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll give you a bulk discount. Something tells me you’re going to need these supplies in bulk.”

“Thanks. Do you mind if I look over this and some of the other books in your collection?”

“That’s fine,” Erica said. “I’ll give you a discount on any you choose to buy, too. That’s what you get for being a repeat customer.”

I read up on the destiny orbs. The book Erica had handed me said that the destiny orbs were the remnants of ancient gateways between dimensions. Popular folklore said that a long time ago beings could travel across realities using the destiny orbs. This ability weakened the borders between realities and a league of wizards made it their business to shut down the trans-dimensional gateways to ensure that different realities weren’t destroyed through accidental mergers. For a time, people were still able to use the destiny orbs to peek at other realities, but over the centuries, wizards did their best to destroy the destiny orbs. Finally, during the wizard wars, wizards made a concerted effort to destroy any destiny orbs that remained in order to increase their power and gain an advantage over their opponents.

The story got my mind churning and I looked at other books in the store that dealt with alternate realities and interdimensional travel. I also found some books on the topic of djinn. I bought several of the books along with the supplies I had requested of Erica. The story of the destiny orbs had given me an idea that I intended to explore.

Chapter Thirty-Two

The weeks continued to pass quickly and brought changes both good and bad.

My relationships with my roommates, Brooke, and Summer grew stronger.

Brooke and I ate lunch together several times a week and occasionally went out shopping together after work. She had a great sense of fashion, and I appreciated her input when it came to clothes. She was long past worrying that I had any interest in Henry and I got the feeling that their relationship grew stronger because of that.

Summer and I met at least once a week, sometimes more often. She struggled for a long time about what to do about her impending marriage to Teddy and her strained relationship with Chastity. Eventually she decided that she would move away from Chastity to live with Teddy and her son. Summer was apprehensive about what Chastity might do in response, but she felt sure that this was the right course of action for her and her son. I encouraged her to follow her heart.

Speaking of which, Johnny and I fell deeper and deeper in love with each other with every day that passed. The longer we were together, the more I wanted to remain with him always.

Yet I never stopped studying magic. As the weeks passed, I became more confident in my use of magic. It became less about figuring out a way to become a man again and more about understanding the forces that had caused my life to change so dramatically. I wasn’t sure what I would do if I did find a way to become a man again. Possibly, I would just be glad to have gained the knowledge. I didn’t see how I could become a man again if it meant losing Johnny. He had become my whole world, my reason for being. What would be the point of becoming a man again if it meant living without him?

Figuring out transformation spells proved quite the challenge. I experimented with small animals like rabbits, which seemed fitting considering the old gag about pulling them out of top hats. I started by changing their features. That part was easy. I could make them different colors or alter the lengths of their ears. Then I jumped to transforming them into guinea pigs because, metaphorically speaking, they already were guinea pigs in my experiments. That’s when things got messy. For a couple of weeks, I either failed completely or transformed the rabbits into weird creatures that were a bizarre mix of rabbits and guinea pigs. I don’t think I hurt them by doing that, but it sure made my stomach queasy.

It took a while, but eventually I solved the problem and transformed a rabbit from a metaphorical guinea pig into a literal one. Then I transformed it into a frog. Finally, I turned it back into a rabbit. Before long I was able to turn male rabbits into females and vice versa.

There was another personal project I worked on during this time. I was able to complete my law school applications and I eagerly awaited responses from the schools.

From a professional standpoint, things at work took a turn for the better. People began to take notice that I performed my job as a paralegal quite well. I don’t think I was a better paralegal as Kelly than I had been as David, but unlike David, people eventually began to appreciate my talents as Kelly. That was a welcome change of pace. After only one month working as a paralegal, Mr. Baxter was so satisfied with my work product that he gave me another raise.

Unfortunately, things were growing worse with Hunter. I simply couldn’t control myself around him. Literally.

One day, after a long, physically draining weekend of lovemaking with Johnny, I was looking through my purse at work for some gum and found myself saying to Hunter, “Don’t you just hate it when you run out of condoms? I need to stop by the pharmacy during lunch and buy some more.”

“I never have that problem,” Hunter said. “I don’t bother with them. They ruin the fun.”

“You’ve got the right idea,” I said as I smiled at him. “Sex with a condom is like riding a convertible with the top up. There’s no fun in that. I like to feel the action.”

“If you ever get tired of that guy you’re wasting your time with, let me know,” Hunter said. “I’ll give you something to feel in action.”

I giggled. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Hunter and I went out to lunch regularly. I had to fight with all my will power to keep from throwing myself at him.

Once when we were eating out at the diner up the street, he said, “I really like that you appreciate the need to stay in shape. I can tell you exercise a lot. You’ve got an amazing figure. One of the perks of coming to work is getting to look at you all day.”

“I’m glad you notice,” I said involuntarily. “I don’t get all dolled up like this every day just to come to work. I like to show off what I got. You know what they say, use it or lose it.”

I leaned over the table and put my hand on his chest, gently rubbing his pectorals.

“A good figure deserves to be appreciated,” I said with a smile as I began rubbing one of his biceps.

Then he asked me to have a drink with him after work. I summoned all my willpower but couldn’t say no.

We found ourselves at a bar a few blocks away from the office that evening. One thing led to another and after a few drinks we were making out in the alleyway out back. I was lucky that his girlfriend called him just then and told him she had to see him right away. I don’t know what the rush was, but I was so glad for that phone call. Despite all my best efforts, I had no ability to resist Hunter. If his girlfriend had not called, I would have done anything that Hunter asked of me.

I was so ashamed of what I had done and disgusted to have the taste of Hunter on my lips. I cried in shame.

I called Johnny that night as soon as I got home and told him how much I loved him. He told me that he loved me, too, and asked if anything was wrong. What was I supposed to say? That I had cheated on him against my will as an unintended side-effect of a magic spell that had transformed me from a man into a woman because the personality of the girl that I had become was overriding my free will? That’s not the sort of thing a girl ever expects to have to explain to her boyfriend, and Johnny sure as hell wasn’t going to understand. Instead, I told Johnny that I missed him and couldn’t wait to see him again. At least that had the benefit of being true, although it was far from the complete truth.

Out of desperation, I redoubled my efforts to put my plan into action. I got by on almost no sleep as I poured through magic books and experimented with different spells and variations on spells. Erica had thought that with enough time, I could begin practicing on physically transforming monkeys or something. She seemed to think highly of my skill with magic, but even she probably wouldn’t have imagined that I was able to transform a rabbit first into a gorilla and then into an extremely frightened and confused human being. I could scarcely believe it myself when I did it. Thankfully, I was able to transform the poor man back into a rabbit before he panicked.

Shortly after my tryst with Hunter, I received acceptance letters from four of the law schools to which I had applied. That brightened my mood slightly, but I had more immediate concerns than my future career goals.

I thought long and hard about what to do. I wanted to be with Johnny, but I knew that I couldn’t control myself as Kelly. I knew that eventually I would give myself over to Hunter. I could feel the desire overpowering me. I didn’t want to be with Hunter, and I didn’t want to break Johnny’s heart. There was only one option open to me, and it was only open to me if I could pull off the right transformation spell and if my hunch about the djinn dimension was accurate. It was a difficult, painful decision, but I made my choice.

Given my situation with Hunter, I was running out of time. I knew that what I was about to do was extremely dangerous. The spell I was about to attempt could kill me, if I were lucky. If I happened not to be so lucky, I might end up hideously and irreparably transformed into some sort of abomination. The magic books made it clear that such things were known to happen. But I couldn’t risk the possibility of things with Hunter going any further than they already had.

I stripped naked and stood in front of the full-length mirror that hung in my bathroom. In my hands I held a cup full of a noxious concoction I had mixed together from various ingredients I had gathered. The fluid in the cup glowed a luminous green color that bathed the darkened room in an eerie glow.

I took a deep breath and whispered nervously, “Here goes nothing.”

I cleared my mind and carefully recited the incantation. It was critical that I focus all my energy on my objective. A moment’s lapse in my attention could cause catastrophic results. When the incantation was complete, I swallowed the nauseating fluid and nearly gagged. I knew it would taste bad, but nothing had prepared me for the bitter taste or the repulsive texture of the stuff. I forced myself to swallow all of the potion. This wouldn’t work properly unless I ingested all of it.

When I was done drinking the potion, nothing happened. I was about to drop to my knees and cry out of despair when I suddenly felt something. I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I placed my arms over my stomach and bent over in agony. I could feel my internal organs rearranging themselves. I was still coming to grips with that pain when I noticed my hair retracting up my shoulders past my neck all the way to my ears as it grew shorter. My hair remained the same platinum blonde color, but it became stiffer and the familiar tickle of it on my back and around my face, neck, and shoulders was gone. Then an aching soreness began to develop on my upper torso as my breasts deflated. It was like someone was sucking the air out of a pair of balloons. The feeling of my skin retracting as my boobs continued to shrink was excruciating. Just when I thought I couldn’t handle anymore, I felt an intense pressure building between my legs as if my uterus was about to burst, followed by the sensation of two bulbous growths pushing out of my pelvis. I looked on as my vaginal lips swelled and fused together, creating a scrotum. I also felt my clitoris stretch painfully and eventually expand into a penis. I reached my hand down between my legs and was stunned to find a man’s genitals down there. I cried out while my body painfully contorted inside and out. As difficult as it was to believe, my breasts had flattened out into smooth pectorals, my waist had expanded and my hips had narrowed to give my body a masculine shape, and the demure vertical slit that had been my vagina had been replaced by a modestly sized penis and scrotum tucked away in a patch of pubic hair.

I had the body of a man.

Chapter Thirty-Three

I stared into the mirror in fascination. It had worked. Looking back at me in the mirror was the familiar reflection of David. The only difference was that the black hair I had sported my entire life, even during most of my time as Kelly, had been replaced by the blond hair into which I had transformed it when I first began experimenting with transformation spells. The blond hair didn’t look as good on David as it had on Kelly.

I looked around the bathroom. It looked smaller. The counter was still a sloppy mess of combs, hair ties, makeup, and various feminine products. I walked out of the bathroom.

“Ow!” I said as I grimaced and cupped my genitals with one hand.

It’s impossible to understand how uncomfortable it is to have a cock and balls bouncing around between your legs unless you’ve had an opportunity to experience what it’s like to be equipped with a vagina instead. It hurt each time my scrotum jostled against my inner thighs or penis. It would take a while to get used to the constant pain and discomfort of male genitalia again.

On the other hand, a massive weight had literally been taken off my chest with the disappearance of Kelly’s massive breasts. For the first time in weeks, I could stand up straight without feeling like I was being pulled forward and downward. The muscles in my neck, shoulders, and back felt so much better, too.

I still thought that, on balance, it was more difficult to walk around with a penis and scrotum dangling between my legs than it was to walk around with a pair of large breasts bouncing around my chest, but it was still a relief to be rid of my huge boobs.

As I stepped into the bedroom, I noted that it was still decorated in the same style as it had been when I had occupied it as Kelly. Reality had not changed.

Lying on the bed was a sweatshirt and sweatpants in size extra-large. Sitting beside the sweats on the bed was a pair of black canvas shoes. There was nothing magical about the clothes or shoes. I had bought them at the mall before making the potion so that in case it worked I would have something to wear.

I quickly dressed in the sweats and slipped on the shoes.

Once I was fully clothed, I walked around the bedroom. I felt bigger, clumsier, and slower, not as agile and flexible as I had felt as Kelly. It was a bizarre feeling getting accustomed to my old body.

After a few minutes, I looked at the turquoise ring on the middle finger of my right hand.

“Mort!” I bellowed.

There was a puff of that familiar insidious black smoke and Mort was suddenly standing before me in that same obnoxious navy-blue three-piece suit he always wore.

“You rang?” he said. Then his eyes widened for a moment, and he said, “Well, hello again, kid. Looks like you managed to figure out how to get your old body back. Can’t say the hair works for you.”

I immediately punched Mort in the face with my right hand. I looked on in shock as his face bent and contorted around my fist as if his head were made of clay. When I pulled back my fist, his face reverted back to its initial state, only now Mort was grinning widely.

“Ha, ha,” Mort laughed. “I bet you didn’t see that one coming. It’s not easy to land one on a djinn’s mug. Believe me, many have tried.”

“That still felt good,” I said.

“It always helps to let out a little steam,” Mort said. “What can I do for you, kid? You got more questions on the ethics of magic?”

“The ring,” I said as I raised it to his face. “You use the ring to travel between this dimension and your own. It’s basically a destiny orb.”

“A what?”

“A destiny orb, Mort. An inter-dimensional gateway.”

“That it is, kid. What of it?”

“Every djinn gateway is basically a destiny orb,” I explained. “The psychic, Erica, she had several books on the subject. I don’t know if there are any actual destiny orbs left, but the ring acts like one. Every ring, magic lamp, rug, enchanted condom, or other artifact that djinn use to enter this universe can be used like a destiny orb. I can use it to view alternate realities, and if I can view other realities, then I can travel to them or manipulate them.”

Mort removed his fedora and scratched his head. “Will you look at that. You learn something new every day. That’s interesting, kid. So what do you want?”

“This,” I said.

I waved my hand over the turquoise ring and recited an incantation. It was a simple enchantment that ordinarily would have served to give me control over a standard crystal ball. I wasn’t completely sure what the enchantment would do with a djinn’s gateway, but I had a hunch.

It is difficult to describe what happened next in words. In a way, it was similar to the way I had experienced Kelly’s memories through my dreams. It was as if I was dreaming again. Only instead of experiencing the memories of one person, I experienced an infinite number of realities.

Picture, if you will, a kaleidoscope filled with every possible color and shape you could imagine, and many you couldn’t imagine. Now instead of colors and shapes, picture an infinite array of possible realities. That was what it was like.

I thought I was about to lose my mind. And maybe I would have. Then I heard a familiar voice.

“How are you doing this?” Mort asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. There was a sort of echo effect to my words. It wasn’t actually an echo because I wasn’t actually speaking. When I say I heard Mort speaking or that I said something, I mean it sort of symbolically. There was no sound, because there was no air for sound to travel through. There were only disembodied words that pierced the fabric of reality. “Keep talking, Mort. It’s helping me focus.”

“You got it, kid. How’s this?”

“Uh…that’s good.”

“I’ve never heard of a mortal being able to visit. My hat’s off to you, kid.”

“This is your home,” I observed. “This is the land of the djinn. Your kind exist in every reality simultaneously.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

From what I had gathered about this place from the books I had read on the djinn, time and space didn’t work the same way here. I spent an eternity in the djinn dimension and yet was I barely there at all. I lived an infinite number of lifetimes without ever living or dying.

Gradually, my focus began to narrow. It was like adjusting the focus on a telescope or a pair of binoculars. Instead of experiencing an infinite number of realities simultaneously, I was only experiencing a few trillion. I continued to focus and then I was only experiencing a few thousand realities. Then after exercising all my willpower, I was able to focus on a single reality. I searched through one reality at a time until I found the one I was looking for.

I recognized the life of Kelly Rodriguez. I witnessed her birth and saw her grow up. Her life proceeded as I remembered it, only there was never a change to reality that caused me to become her. Instead, she lived her life without any interference from me. She went out with her roommates to the night club where she met Marco. Unlike me, she had fun with Marco and had no regrets the next morning. Without me, Kelly had no interest in football and never went to the sports bar, so she never met Johnny. Instead, she began to flirt with Hunter at work and eventually seduced him. Kelly hooked up with Hunter behind his girlfriend’s back. She fell in love with Hunter and did anything he asked of her. In return, Hunter treated her like crap, used her for sex and then left her to get back with his girlfriend. Heartbroken, Kelly quit her job. She never applied to law school. Instead, after weeks of coping with yet another failed relationship, she applied for a modeling job she found online only to learn that it was a casting call for adult films. Feeling like the only thing she had going for her was her looks, Kelly signed on and began a long career as an adult entertainer named Destiny Monroe.

“Looks like you did that broad a favor, kid,” Mort opined. “Now it’s just my opinion, but I think she was better off in law school than she is making dirty pictures.”

“That answers that question,” I said.

I turned away from that reality and began searching for another.

“Now what are you looking for, kid?”

“I’m a man again, but no one here knows who I am. David Rodriguez doesn’t exist. I need to switch out this reality for one where I have a life.”

“You’ve figured out how to change reality? You really have gotten a handle on this magic business.”

“No,” I said. “I can’t change reality. What I can do is switch one version out for another. Ordinarily, it would require extraordinary power to do something like that. But here, in this place, and with your gateway, it should be as easy as pulling a rabbit out of a hat.”

One of the fundamental principles of magic that Houdini had explained in the Treatise was the idea that, if something could be observed, it could be manipulated. In a way, that was the basic idea behind magic. You can manipulate anything you can observe. The key was figuring out how to manipulate the things you could observe, whether we’re talking about people, objects, mana, gravity, or any other observable force.

Thanks to Mort’s ring, I could observe other realities. Logically, that must mean…well, there was only one way to prove my theory.

I found a suitable reality. It wasn’t perfect, but it would be good enough for my purposes.

I concentrated with all my strength…

Chapter Thirty-Four

I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock blaring. As I shut it off, I could see that it was 6:00 a.m. I sat up and grabbed my chest. There were no breasts. I reached down between my legs and felt the familiar form of my penis and scrotum. I looked around and saw that my room was back to the way I had decorated it as David. All the feminine décor was gone.

I got out of bed wearing only my boxer shorts and made my way to the bathroom. The bathroom counter was now free of all the women’s products that had formerly crowded it. I stared at myself in the full-length mirror. It had been no dream. I was a man again. I was David Rodriguez. I had even gone through the trouble of casting a spell to change my hair color back from blond to black once I had returned from the djinn world the night before.

Then, for the first time in a long time, I lifted up the toilet seat and peed standing up. I had missed that.

I got into a pair of running shorts, a t-shirt, and running shoes then went out for a run. A few blocks from the townhouse, I ran past two young women running down the sidewalk in skintight spandex shorts and matching sports bras. I admired their toned figures as I wished them a good morning and they returned the greeting. I was pleased to feel the first stirrings of an erection between my legs. My sexual orientation was once again that of a healthy heterosexual male.

When I returned home after my run, I shaved my face, brushed my teeth, and took a shower. I got dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and a blue button-down shirt.

“Mort, are you still there?” I asked.

There was the perfunctory puff of black smoke and Mort stood before me.

“Bravo, old boy. I have to hand it to you, I didn’t think it was possible, but you found a way to turn it all around. I never imagined that you would be able to do it that way, but you learn something new every day.”

“Thanks,” I said. “If this worked out the way I think it did, you’re the only person…uh, the only thing I’m going to be able to talk to about everything that happened. You occupy every version of reality, so you remember what happened. No one else will remember a damn thing. Not in this reality.”

“Don’t worry, kid. You’ll always have your old pal, Mort, just as long as you’ve got that ring on your finger.”

I walked downstairs for a breakfast of toasted waffles and coffee. When I reached the kitchen, I saw Ashley sitting at the dining table eating some cereal and looking at something on her phone. I smiled and felt like running over to her and giving her a hug. But I remembered that this was a different reality and things weren’t like that anymore.

“Good morning,” I said.

Without lifting her eyes up from her phone, Ashley muttered. “Morning.”

After I made my coffee and prepared my waffles, I sat down at the table across from Ashley. I looked over at her and said, “Ashley, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. I want to say that if I’ve acted like some kind of a jerk since I moved in here with you guys, I’m sorry about that. I want to do better.”

Ashley raised her eyebrows at me. After a moment, she said, “Whatever.”

Then she got up, dropped her bowl in the sink, and walked out of the kitchen.

That was discouraging. But I reminded myself that I had just altered reality. Sort of. How much harder could it be to change my relationship with my roommates?

I drove to work and parked next to Hunter’s car. I looked over his car carefully but didn’t notice anything different about it.

I walked into the office building. On my way to my desk, I passed by Brooke in the hallway. She gave me a warm smile. I returned it but didn’t stop to make conversation.

I made my way to the office I shared with Hunter. Instead of seeing Hunter’s familiar face, however, I saw a young woman about my age standing by his desk, putting down her purse. She was petite, about five feet tall. She was dressed in a fitted pink blouse with a scoop neckline and a black pencil skirt and white open-toed pumps. Her arms and legs were slim with delicate hands and feet. Her tiny fingers and toes looked so fragile. Her hips were pleasantly curvy, but not overly thick. She turned slightly to the side, and I was greeted by the sight of her pert little round behind. Her stomach looked flat without any excess fat. Then there were her massive breasts. Although I was impressed by their size, what I admired most about her breasts was how round and firm they were. One didn’t normally see breasts like that on a woman unless she had paid a highly skilled surgeon to install them.

“Oh, good morning, David,” the woman said, flashing me a beautiful smile. “I didn’t hear you walk in.”

“Good morning, Tiffany. That’s okay. I have light steps.”

Tiffany was stunning. When I looked closely at her face, I could see that there was a strong resemblance in most of her features to the man she had been. Her nose was a little smaller, her lips a little thicker, and her eyes slightly more elongated, but her face basically looked like a more feminine version of what it had been before. Hunter had been a good-looking man, and he made for a beautiful woman.

“Tiffany, how would you like to have lunch with me today?” I asked.

Tiffany enthusiastically said, “Sure. I need to tell you about this crazy dream I had last night.”

“What was it about?”

Tiffany giggled. “I had this weird dream that I was a man, and you were a woman and…oh my god…this is so embarrassing…we totally made out.”

I laughed. “Wow. Crazy dream.”

I took Tiffany out for lunch that day and later that week we went for drinks together after work. Her sex drive was every bit as strong as it had been as Hunter, and it didn’t take much effort at all to convince her to go home with me. I took her back to the townhouse and we went to my room.

That night, I experienced sex as a man. It was odd. Physically, sex felt even better as a man than it did as a woman. The sensation of ejaculating into Tiffany was more enjoyable than the orgasms I had felt as Kelly. Yet, from an emotional standpoint, it was somehow less fulfilling. As Tiffany fell asleep nuzzling against my chest, I honestly thought that she got the better end of the deal.

Tiffany and I continued seeing each other if only because I didn’t have any better options. She was a stereotypically high-maintenance girlfriend, constantly wanting to spend time with me. I quickly grew tired of her but lacked the strength of will to break it off with her.

I wondered at first why Tiffany didn’t remember her old life as Hunter, but when I reflected on what I had learned about transformations and inter-dimensional travel, it occurred to me that maybe she did. It could be that her personality was stronger than Hunter’s and she had managed to subsume his mind. Over time, I became convinced that Hunter was in there somewhere, experiencing his knew life as a woman but unable to influence it in anyway. That seemed like an appropriate fate for him.

My relationships with Ashley, Becky, and Emma improved with some effort. We talked on occasion, shared a drink once in a while, but despite my best efforts, things never became anything close to what they had been like when I was Kelly. And of course, David didn’t know Erica or Summer. He had never met them. I soon began to feel alone again.

A few months after becoming David again, I sat at the sports bar one evening in my Mustangs jersey, drinking and watching a football game on television. Every few minutes I received another text message from Tiffany who was wondering where I was and wanted me to come over to her place to keep her company and fulfill her needs. I shut off my phone, tired of dealing with her.

“You a fan of the home team, bro,” a familiar voice asked me.

Sitting a few seats down from me at the bar was Johnny.

I smiled and said, “I’m loyal to a fault.”

We began talking about the game on television. His read of it was, as usual, superficial and uninformed. I set him straight and told him how the game would play out.

“I still can’t understand how you saw that coming,” Johnny said after the game ended.

“I’ve been following the game since I was a kid,” I said. “It’s second nature to me. I was a running back in high school, too. That gave me a better feel for the game even if I couldn’t play worth a damn.”

It was funny. I didn’t feel any physical attraction toward Johnny, not now that I was a man, but I liked him just the same. Watching the game with him that evening, that was the first time I had felt happy since becoming David again. When I said goodbye to Johnny, I realized how much I missed him. I realized how much I missed the life I had made mine and then left behind.

I had become David again to avoid submitting to Hunter and cheating on Johnny. It was the only way I could see out of my predicament. I had acted out of fear, which is always a bad move. Now I saw the error of my decision. This wasn’t who I was meant to be.

I immediately drove down to Erica’s shop, introduced myself to her as David for the first time, and ordered some supplies.

“Forgive me for being so forward, young man, but you have one of the strangest auras I’ve ever seen,” Erica said. “I’m not sure what you’re planning to do with these materials, but please be careful. Judging by what you’ve requested, you’re dealing with some very powerful magic.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” I told Erica as I left her shop.

I stopped by the mall quickly to buy a women’s sweatshirt and sweatpants in the smallest size available along with a pair of women’s flip flops. Then I went home and mixed the potion.

After another painful physical transformation, I was once again Kelly Rodriguez. I put on the sweats and flip flops, then I waved my hand over the ring and recited the incantation. It took me a while, but I found the reality I wanted and switched it out for the one in which I was living.

The next morning when I came down the stairs dressed in a teal blouse, black skirt, and three-inch pumps and saw Ashley eating breakfast, I said, “What’s up bitch?”

Ashley shrugged and said, “Same shit, different day. You know how it is, honey.”

I ran over to her and hugged her. “I missed you, Ashley.”

Ashley laughed. “I swear, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re dating Johnny, I would be convinced you’re a lesbian.”

“You should be so lucky,” I said and then giggled.

When I arrived at work, Brooke greeted me warmly. Tiffany was also friendly, but she gave me a funny look and said, “Oh my god, I had the craziest dream last night. You are going to think this is so weird. I dreamt you were a guy and that I was dating you.”

I giggled. “Wow. Crazy dream.”

After work, I rushed over to Johnny’s place. When he opened his door, I nearly knocked him to the ground as I leapt onto him and wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

“Oh, babe, I missed you so much!” I shouted.

“I just saw you just last night,” he chided me.

“I know. It was an eternity. I’ll never do that again.”

In the following months, as I prepared to start law school, my life was perfect. My relationship with Johnny brought me a happiness and fulfillment I had never known as David. Sure, women’s orgasms weren’t as much fun as men’s, but sex was far more rewarding as a girl than it had been as a man, by a long shot.

My friendships with Brooke, Erica, Summer, and my roommates only grew stronger. In a way, they were even more fulfilling than my relationship with Johnny. It felt good to care about other people and to know that no matter what happened they always had my back. I honestly don’t think men have any idea how incredible the bonds between women can be, it’s a joy they’ll never know.

As for Tiffany, she was clearly much better off as a woman than she had been as a man. I did some experimenting with spells and I was able to confirm that Hunter’s mind was in fact buried within Tiffany, observing and feeling everything that she experienced but unable to exert any control over her. I imagined he was much happier. Hunter had always pursued sex doggedly, and Tiffany was able to satisfy her physical urges more easily than Hunter could ever have imagined. She hooked up with a different guy every week, sometimes two or three. Hunter would have done anything to be able to get laid on demand, now as Tiffany he had all the sex he could have ever wanted.

Mr. Baxter was so pleased with my work that when he found out I was going to be leaving to attend law school full-time, he offered me yet another raise to try and convince me to stay. But I had decided to commit myself to academics and had to turn him down.

After it was all said and done, I had only one loose end to resolve.

One evening, I drove down to the beach and stood on the sand, watching the surf splash back and forth across the shore. I removed the turquoise ring from my finger.

“We had a good run, Mort,” I said.

The puff of black smoke returned, and Mort stood beside me again.

“You sure you want to do this, sweetheart? There’s all sorts of good I can do for your friends if you hand me over to them. Give me to your pal Summer and I can free her from Chastity once and for all. Give me to Becky and I can make her dreams of fame and fortune a reality. For Ashley, you know I can make her into a man if that’s what she really wants. Or hand me to the love of your life and we’ll see what I can do for good old Johnny. The possibilities are endless.”

I giggled. “Sorry, Mort, that sounds like a lot of wishful thinking to me. Whatever it is that we want for ourselves, we’ll have to figure out how to get it ourselves, under our own power.”

Mort nodded. “Very well, sweetheart. Best of luck to you and yours.”

Mort disappeared in a puff of black smoke for the last time.

Summoning all my strength, I tossed the turquoise ring, gateway to an infinite number of possible realities, into the ocean. Then I turned around and walked back to enjoy the life I had spent so long wishing for without even knowing it.