Warning: there is some sexual violence in this story, as well as explicit mention of female body parts.

My Brilliant Idea

I have been frustrated for decades with not being able to bring myself to see a psychiatrist who deals in gender dysphoria. It is not that I couldn’t have passed the psychological testing for mental stability, the testing for true gender dysphoria, and living a year in women’s clothing. I know that I could have done all that. However, I could not bring myself to hurt my wife, children, or friends by my actions. They did not understand gender dysphoria. All I could do was secretly console myself with crossdressing.

Enough time has passed that it is no longer possible for me to consider estrogen treatment or gender affirming surgery, or sex reassignment surgery as I have long known it. I am 68 years old, and my body is starting to fail me in a number of ways.

However, it struck me about 18 months ago, that with today’s current technology, there might be a way for me to experience being inside a young woman’s body, without going through transition. It might not be wholly ethical, morally acceptable, but I believed that it could be done, if I could just talk to the right people. I needed a human biologist and a nanotechnologist, at the very least. Funding was not my concern at that moment. I needed to see if what I imagined was a possibility.

After doing a little searching online, I concluded that the best place to find both of these people would be in a pharmaceutical company. There is a company in the city in which I live, but how to contact them was a dilemma for me. However, after a bit more searching online I found the name of a dedicated biomedical and mechanical engineer who had research experience in nanotechnology, who was an employee at the local pharmaceutical company. There was just one catch. The person was a female, and might not take too kindly to my idea.

Nevertheless, I looked at the website where her name came up. From her photo, she looked to be in her late 20s or early 30s. All I had to do was join the professional network to which she belonged and I would be able to obtain her contact info. I did so and got her phone number and email address. Now, I just needed to figure out what was the correct approach to contacting her.

I finally settled on giving her a phone call. I thought that late afternoon, between 4 and 5 pm, might work best. I settled on 4:30 pm. I made the call, and she answered.

“Hello, (she gave the name of the company), this is Michelle.”

“Hi Michelle, I found your contact info through your website and professional network. I have an idea about an application of nanotech in the medical field. I’m not a human biologist, nor a nanotechnologist, but I thought you might be interested in hearing my idea and seeing if there is any merit to it.” There was a brief pause, and I thought, “Oh, no! I’ve said the wrong thing!”

But Michelle answered, “I would be delighted to hear the idea that you have. I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh, excuse me. My name is Chris Sanders.”

I then asked Michelle, “Could we discuss my proposal over lunch. I don’t think it would take very long to present my idea.”

“I think that would be great. There’s a bistro across the street, Endroit Calme, meaning Quiet Spot. They serve excellent French cuisine at a reasonable price.”

“I know the place. Would tomorrow at 11:45 am work for you? That way we can beat the lunch crowd.”

“That sounds fine, Mr. Sanders.”

“Oh, you can just call me Chris. I’ll see you then, and it will be my treat.”

“Thank you, I look forward to meeting you.”

I spent the night fretting. I didn’t sleep very much, but I was used to it. It is one of the hazards of getting older. I tried to think how best to present my thoughts without offending her. I finally drifted off to sleep around 2 am.

Because I had seen her photo online, I had no trouble recognizing Michelle. We shook hands and exchanged greetings, then went inside to order. We took a few moments to look at the entrees. Michelle ordered ratatouille with ruby snapper. I got steak tartare and French onion soup. Since it was a warm Spring day, we went outside to one of the tables there.

As we began to eat, I started to talk. “Michelle, in order for this idea to make any sense, you need to know that I am a male to female transgender. Please keep this in confidence, since I don’t want it getting back to my wife and children.”

“Oh, no problem, Chris. What is your feminine name?”

“I’ll tell you, but please don’t call me by that name here.”

“No, of course not.”

“It’s Crystal. Anyway, my idea is to somehow implant nanobots in a female and nanobots in myself, such that she would be sending and I would be receiving and living vicariously through her. I know that sounds crazy, and maybe even immoral, but I am getting old and have maybe twenty years left to live.”

Michelle toyed with her food for a moment, and then she looked up and directly into my eyes. “Chris, that is not a crazy idea at all. You would need to have the consent of the sender, but I think that we could maybe get this to work, and it might even have a great market, given the fact that so many are struggling with their birth gender. But there are several hurdles that need to be surmounted.”

“Such as?”

“There is the problem of how to get the bots to the right locations. Another obstacle is how to send and receive. And perhaps the most challenging issue is how to get the sensory info translated into a digital format. I’m sure there are other hurdles, but those are the three that come to mind right away.”

“Oh, those both sound like insurmountable obstacles.”

“Not necessarily. I just need to figure out how to send two of the bots to the optic nerves for sight. Another to the somatosensory system, a ridge of the cortex called the postcentral gyrus, found in the parietal lobe of the brain, for touch and feeling. Another to the cochlear nucleus in the brainstem, for hearing. Another to the insular cortex, for taste. And two bots to the two olfactory bulbs, just above each nasal cavity, for smell. That’s just for item one.” She smiled.

“This just sounds impossible, Michelle.” I’m sure that she could read the despair in my voice and face.

“No, Chris, not if I take it one piece at a time.”

“I’m not sure how to pay you for this without my wife finding out about it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m intrigued by this concept of yours.”

“How long do you think it would take to develop and implement?”

“Oh, given the fact that I’d be working on it during my off hours, I suspect at least a year, if not two.”

“I’ll be 69 or 70 by then!”

“Chris, your age won’t matter one bit. But you have to understand, this could not be 24/7 for you. It could only be for two, at most three, hours at a time. You have to use the bathroom, eat, move about, sleep, et cetera. And you would have to be lying down, because with someone else’s sensory input flooding you, you couldn’t navigate. And the device would need to be on a timer, because you couldn’t stop it otherwise.”

“Wow, Michelle! You are really thinking about this.”

“Of course I am. I want to help you.”

Then I said, “Of course, I want to be one of the test subjects.”

“Well, of course. You realize that we’d be breaking all kinds of rules and laws.”

“Yes, I realize that. But who would the female test subject be? What woman is going to agree to having an old man observe her while undressed?”

“Why, me, silly.”

“You? You’d be willing to do that for me? You don’t even know me! I might be some kind of pervert.”

“I highly doubt that! I’ve learned a lot about you during this past hour, Chris. You’re compassionate, kind, gentle, caring, creative, and imaginative. Let me toss this around a bit and let’s talk again in a month or so.” With that we finished our lunchtime together.

The Trial Run

It took a year and a half, and we talked at least once a month, if not more. We went out to lunch again, this time at a Greek restaurant. I had a lamb dish, but I don’t recall what Michelle had. She started by explaining that the nanobots could be stirred into a glass of water, such as was in front of us at this meal. She also asked me for my cell phone, and loaded an app onto it by scanning a code.

“You’ll use your phone to control the bots. I will have my phone near me at all times, so you can experience me anytime that you want.” She took out two little vials and emptied one into each of our glasses. “Let us drink to each other’s good health.”

“To your good health!” We raised our glasses to salute each other, and then drank down the contents.

She gave me a bit more instruction. “You use the app to set the start time and the end time. Make sure that you’re lying down before the start time and that the phone is nearby, in the same room.”

I’m sure that I looked a little sheepish when I asked her this question. I may have even gotten a little red in the face. “Michelle, I feel awkward asking this, but what time do you usually get up in the morning and what time do you shower and dress?”

She grinned. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. I get up at 6 am and shower right away. I suppose that I get dressed at around 6:30.”

“Okay, I will set my phone to start at 5:55 and end at 8:30 after you’ve gotten to the office.”

“Sounds fine, Chris.” And then she leaned forward and spoke softly. “Enjoy being a pretty young woman, Crystal.” And then she winked at me. Her blonde curls shook as she giggled.

“Will I remember what happens, or will it be like a dream that I forget upon waking?”

She smiled demurely and said, “You will remember everything that you did, Chris.” Now I smiled and winked at her.

Before I laid down for the night, I pulled up the app and set the date and times for tomorrow morning. It would not seem unusual to my wife that I would sleep until 8:30. I woke several times during the night, and when I woke up at 5:13 am, I did not allow myself to go back to sleep. I kept an eye on my alarm clock and, when it got to be 5:53, I turned on my back and closed my eyes. Soon I heard her gentle breathing. It was several minutes before I heard her alarm go off. She was lying on her side and I saw what she saw when she opened her eyes. She reached over to shut the alarm off and it felt like my arm did the reaching. I felt long hair about my face, and felt my breasts jostle as I rose to a sitting position on the side of the bed. My hands touched smooth thighs. I got up.

Michelle walked around the end of the bed, and I was feeling my breasts bounce slightly as I walked to the light on the dresser and turned it on. She picked up her phone, then opened a drawer and I selected a pair of panties and a bra. Then I walked to the bathroom, turned on the light, and turned to face the mirror. I was confronted by the beautiful face of Michelle. I was looking right into her eyes, my eyes.

She smiled, I smiled, and she said, “Good morning, Crystal. Enjoy yourself.”

I could see my breasts through the thin material of her negligee. I removed it over my head, and I got a good look in the mirror of my shapely breasts and firm nipples. My waist was slender, my hips full. I turned to lift the lid of the toilet and then I turned to face the door and sit down on the seat. It was very strange to not have to touch or hold anything as I went pee. She turned to grab some toilet paper and I dabbed myself dry. I stood up and opened the shower door and turned on the water.

It was all a bit strange, and took some getting used to, but I did not initiate any of the movements, nor could I direct my eyes. But Michelle had a feel for what would give me the most pleasure in this experience. She started singing a song as I entered the shower and felt the warm water on my skin. Her voice sounded different, and then I realized that I was hearing my voice through my head. I grabbed the bar of soap from a shelf and began to run it over my chest until the lather was thick. Michelle brought my hands up to caress my breasts. I think they were either a size D or E cup, just the right size. She then brought my hands down to gently wash her labia, the lips of my vagina. She allowed me to wash and feel her entire body. I felt complete and clean. My outside finally matched my inside. But emotionally I felt just awful. I couldn’t explain it when I should be feeling on top of the world.

We dried ourselves off, and put on our panties. It was nice to not feel a bulge there, but a smooth curve down between my ample thighs. We straightened up and gazed once more into the mirror at the quite gorgeous young lady that we were. We smiled again, with a twinkle in our eyes.

Michelle said, “You look very nice, Crystal.”

We turned the bra upside down, fastened the back strap in front, rotated it, pulled the cups up to enclose my breasts, and then pulled the straps up onto my shoulders. We walked back to the bedroom with the phone. I caught another glimpse of myself in an oval mirror on the closet door. I really did look good.

I opened another dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of nude pantyhose. I sat down on the bed and gathered one of the hose up and slipped in my toes. My toenails, fingernails, and skin were all smooth, so there was no snagging of the hose, as I had all too frequently done when I was crossdressing in my youth. I pulled the hose up about my waist, looking down to admire my shapely legs. Then Michelle went to the closet and selected a slip and a cobalt blue dress for me to put on. There were slits on the sides to give tantalizing views of my thighs, and a conservative neckline to show just the beginning of my cleavage. We slipped on a pair of matching blue shoes with medium heels. According to Michelle, I was 5’-4” and weighed 120 pounds. I had always wanted to be this short, for my male body height was 6’-0”.

“Crystal, we’ll go get a bite to eat and then put on your makeup and jewelry.”

Grabbing the phone, we went down to the kitchen and fixed a toasted bagel with strawberry cream cheese and had a cup of coffee with cream and sugar. We went back upstairs to brush our teeth. Then we sat down at a polished wood bureau with an oval mirror behind. On top of a floral embroidered linen there were all manner of cosmetics, as well as perfume bottles, soft hairbrushes, and a hand mirror for checking behind. I applied foundation sparingly, lip liner, a soft pink lipstick, rouge, eyeliner, a dark blue eyeshadow with white highlight above, and mascara. Michelle picked up a hairbrush and I brushed my curly golden blonde hair. Like an angelic halo it circled and framed my face.

Finally, I put on a gold chain necklace, gold stud earrings with a diamond in each, a slender gold watch, a couple of rings, one gold and one silver. Michelle looked once more in the oval mirror and I thought to myself, “You are one good lookin’ girl, Crystal.” We got up from the upholstered bureau bench and grabbed a clutch purse, putting the cell phone into it as we walked toward the stairs. I opened the garage door and pushed the button for the garage door opener. Michelle had a red Sebring convertible. I opened the car door and turned my back to the seat, sat down, and swung both legs into the car. I was amazed how far up the seat was and yet I was perfectly comfortable with the settings. The roof was down and as I backed out into the morning sunlight, I leaned over, opened the glove compartment, and grabbed a pair of stylish sunglasses. I enjoyed that drive into work, with the wind blowing my shoulder length hair, and I admired my pink fingernails on the steering wheel. But, again, my emotions were just raunchy, like nothing before.

I enjoyed the walk from the car to the office building. I could feel my hips swaying and my arms swinging. My deportment and gestures were really those of a vibrant young lady. I could feel the weight of my breasts, and a slight bounce, even with the bra on. I also loved the feel of my dress about my legs. I was ecstatic. Once I got in the office, I was greeting people right and left. I’m glad that Michelle knew their names. We went to get a cup of coffee and talked to one of her fellow employees at the coffee machine. Then we went and caught up on her emails. She was kind enough to look down and I got to see that small bit of cleavage and my shimmering legs below my hemline. It was then that the program broke off. It was 8:30.

I was a bit dejected at my first trip having so abruptly ended. And yet I was elated at having experienced living in a female body, and such a beautiful one at that. But there was something that still troubled me about my emotions. I felt really down.

I called Michelle at 11:30 am, just before lunch. She picked up right away.

“Michelle, it was fantastic! I had long imagined what it would be like, but it far surpassed anything that I could dream up.”

“That’s great, Crystal! I’m glad to hear that.”

“But there is one thing that bothered me.”

“What’s that, Crystal? I can’t even hazard a guess.”

“I’ve felt emotions that I’ve never felt before. You didn’t arrange for me to get your thoughts, did you?”

“No, not at all. That’s not even possible, yet. I’m going through my monthly cycle. I suspect that what you felt was my glum feelings.”

“How can that be?”

“Well, in the insular cortex, where taste senses occur, there is the possibility of experiencing visceral and emotional states. That is, you can feel what I’m feeling.”

“That must be it. The feelings were just awful. I don’t know how you deal with those emotions each month.”

“You get used to them after a while.”

“Thanks a bunch, Michelle. You can’t imagine what you’ve done for me.” With that I hung up. I couldn’t wait until the next morning, but I had to. Though I wasn’t looking forward to the bad feelings.

Truly Becoming One

The next morning, I was awake at shortly after 5 am again. I lay there in high expectations. I couldn’t imagine how I could keep doing this each morning, for I felt sure that I would never tire of feeling like a real girl, a real woman. It was pretty much a repeat of the previous morning, though this time I had to deal with the physical effects of going through a period. That was not pleasant, but I quickly got over it once we were in the shower again. This time we wore a cream colored knit pullover and a green skirt. It was a bit shorter than the dress. I also wore tan pantyhose this time. The shoes were green, the eyeshadow was green, and the lipstick was a Christmas or Poinsettia red, almost matching the color of the sports car. Again, Michelle remembered to take her phone with her to every room and to work.

But this morning would be a totally different morning. As we were getting out of the car in the parking garage, an unshaven and filthy looking man accosted us. He threatened us with a knife and he got us to lie down in the dark in front of the car, where he proceeded to rip our clothes off us, grope us, and then penetrate us. His violent treatment of us hurt really bad, not just physically, but emotionally. I could feel the awful feelings of panic, disgust, horror, denial that this could be happening, shock, et cetera. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, he was gone and we were left completely devastated and not knowing what to do. We wanted to go to the police, but feelings of shame kept us from calling for help. But then I/we heard a woman talking and we called out to her for help. She immediately called 911 and both paramedics and police showed up.

Before they arrived, the woman assured Michelle/me that she would return in just a few moments, she wanted to get an afghan for me/us before help arrived. The man she had been talking with did not come near, but stayed well away. She assured me/us that a woman police officer would be answering the call. Thankfully the paramedic who first came to me was a woman also. Then it was 8:30 again. I felt awful, but I was afraid to call Michelle. I was also afraid not to, not wanting to leave her alone, but I felt that the less contact she had with men right now would be best. It was an awful day as I relived those horrible moments again and again.

During that day and ensuing days, I felt dirty and defiled. I did not have any desire to use the device in the days following the assault. I texted Michelle that I had ceased to use the nanobots, and that she was free to call me only when she was good and ready. There was no rush, no pressure to talk now or ever.

She called me on the fourth day. When I heard her voice, I just kept quiet and let her talk.

“Crystal, I need to talk with you. You are the one person who knows how I feel and what I experienced. Are you there?”

“I’m here, Michelle. I don’t need to talk, unless you want me to. I’m here to listen.”

“I appreciate that, Crystal, but I need to hear you verbalize what we’re both feeling right now. Can you do that for me?"

“I’ll try, Michelle. You stop me if you need to.” Then I began to recount to her the awful, tormented, feelings that I had been dealing with for the past four days.

After a while, she spoke again. “Oh, Crystal, you really do understand, and you’re so sensitive and compassionate for me. Thank you. Can you come over to my house for a while, if you’re up to it?”

“Sure, Michelle. What is your home address?” She gave it to me, then I told my wife that I needed to get out of the house for a bit, like going to the used bookstore for a while. Then I drove to Michelle’s place and gently knocked on the door.

She opened the door. I had to ask her, “I don’t trigger you, being in a man’s body?”

“No, because I know that you understand what I’m feeling, exactly what I’ve been through. You’ve been through it yourself. You’re a woman inside. You were raped like I was. Please come in.”

Once the front door was closed, she led me by the hand to her couch. “Please hold me, Crystal, and speak words of comfort to me.”

I slowly put my arm around her shoulders and held her close. “I’m here, Michelle, and I won’t ever leave you. Do not be afraid.” We just sat together in silence for a while.

After a while, I spoke. “Michelle, I don’t know how long you’re able to take off work, but I’m here for you and will try to help you however I can.”

“I had to have a D&C done. I need to recover both physically and emotionally. My employer told me to take a week or two, or whatever time I need before coming back. But I need to return to work soon. I can’t be alone with my thoughts. I need to be doing something to distract myself. I think you understand.”

“I do. I’ve had to distract myself as well by keeping busy.”

“Crystal, I know this may not make sense, but I need you to be inside me as much as you can for a while. I need to know that you are with me. I know that you don’t lust after me, like some men do. I know that I am safe with you, and I need you near me.” I assured her that I would do and be whatever she needed me to be.

In the days that followed, I used the nanobots to be close to her, but it wasn’t so much about my feeling what it was like to be inside a female body. It was more that I felt the need to nurture and care for this young woman who had been hurt so bad.

On the telephone, one day after work, I told her, “Michelle, you can talk to yourself, even whisper, and I will be here to listen and understand.”

“Thank you, Crystal. You are a part of me, much more than I ever thought you could be or would be.”

For several days, I feigned being sick, so that I could stay in bed more and be with her. I would never go more than three hours, but I would take restroom breaks, eat and drink, and just get my head together, and then I would return to her. Now, more than ever, I felt one with her, not just in body, but also in mind and spirit.

Michelle and I became one, and I was with her much more than she knew. I don’t know quite how to end this story, but it was never the same from day to day. I was still close to my wife, and it was not like I was having an affair. Far from it. I was just being a friend to someone who needed me. Michelle told me one day that she wished she could be a lesbian. She wanted to be held and nurtured by a woman. I was not threatened by that. I understood and actually encouraged her in that. Sometimes I would be with her in those times of intimacy with her partner. Here, I had to reassure myself that I was still being true to my wife, that I was a one woman man for her. It got challenging sometimes, but, again, I was just being a good friend to someone I had come to love dearly. And that is how I came to be as close to being a woman myself as I possibly could. I don’t think I need to share more. What I have told you is enough. I am as close to being complete as I can be, without having to go through transition. I wish you well.

My name was Chris. I had been the youngest of four boys. My older brothers were all away at college. My parents were divorced, and I was living with my mother. It was on my eighteenth birthday that my mother and I went out to dinner. Toward the end of the meal, Mom said, “Chris, this is your last day as a boy, because tomorrow you will be my daughter.” I laughed and said, “Mom, get real, I will always be your son, and nothing will ever change that.” She smiled, “I have always wanted a daughter, and from tomorrow you will be known as Crystal.” I frowned. “Mom, you have carried this joke far enough. I will always be Chris to you.” She rested her chin on her folded hands. “This is my birthday present to you, to be my cherished girl.”

That night I replayed our conversation over and over again. I was greatly troubled by what I remembered of my mother’s words. I could not go to sleep. She had not acted like she was joking but seemed entirely too serious. I could make no sense of it. Why would she act that way? She had even gone so far as to give me the name Crystal. I wondered if I needed to talk to my father and tell him that his ex-wife had slipped a cog. I couldn’t see myself betraying her that way, but I couldn’t imagine how to resolve the matter on my own. She just wouldn’t joke around like this. It was not her way. I finally was able to settle down and drift off to sleep. My last thoughts were that things would look better in the morning. Somehow it would be okay.

When the alarm went off, I reached to hit the snooze button, but I stopped short. There was long hair over my eyes. I brought my left hand to my face and felt long nails touch my skin. I immediately sat upright in bed and then noticed an unfamiliar weight on my chest. I brought my hands up and felt round full breasts. Suddenly I was really scared. What was wrong with me? Was I still dreaming? I lowered my hands to my crotch and came to the awful realization that my male equipment was gone. I lay my hands on my thighs, and they were smooth, not a bit of hair on them. I started trembling and tears began to blur my vision. I got out of bed and went to the full-length mirror that was on my closet door. A teenage girl stared back at me.

Instantly, I felt ashamed to be staring at a semi-naked girl. All she had on was my boxer shorts. Suddenly, I remembered the conversation that my mother and I had had the previous evening at the restaurant. I got very angry. I needed to get downstairs before she left for work. I fumbled in my closet and found my fuzzy bathrobe. I pulled it on and tightened the belt around my waist. I rushed out of my bedroom, down the hall, and almost tumbled down the stairs in my haste to find my mother. I found her in the kitchen. She looked up at me and smiled. It gave me the creeps. “M-Mom …” I stopped suddenly, because the voice coming out of my mouth was definitely female. “Mom, what have you done to me? Change me back into a boy, now!”

My mother continued to smile. “Crystal, I can’t change you back. The charm and the incantation only work one way. They were designed by a Middle Ages enchantress to change a boy into a girl. And you are a very, very authentic girl. I finally have the daughter that I’ve wanted for so long.” “Mom, how could you do this to me? I don’t want to be a girl! I’m a boy!” She smiled again. “Not any longer, Crystal. Besides, deep inside you have wanted to be a girl.” “What?” I exclaimed. “When you were a little boy, you would dress up in my jewelry and makeup. I even let your hair grow long. I helped you with your makeup, and you told me, ‘Mommy, I’m as pretty as you now.’ You loved playing dolls with the girls next door. That was the real you.”

I said, “Mom, I don’t remember any of that! Please, change me back!” She shook her head. “No, Crystal, I have already told you. It’s a done deal. There is no way to reverse the enchantment. Besides, I like you just the way you are, and you will soon like yourself this way as well. You are not just a girl physiologically, but you are a girl in terms of your emotions and thoughts.” I began to cry again. She stood up and put her arms around me. I suddenly realized that I was several inches shorter than I had been as a boy. I pushed my self away and said, “Mom, how are we going to explain this to Dad and the boys? How are we going to explain this to all our friends?” She looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Don’t worry, honey, I’ve got this.”

My Mom took the day off, and we went shopping for clothes for me. She also took me to get my ears pierced, and my hair styled. That night I wore panties, a pushup bra, pantyhose, a short skirt, a low-neck blouse, jewelry, and mid-height heels. We went out to dinner again, this time as mother and daughter. “You really look smashing. You are turning the heads of all the men in this place.” I blushed. I looked down at my cleavage and my thighs, still not believing that I was a real girl. “Mom, there is no way that I’m suddenly going to turn back into a boy and be a guy in girl’s clothes?” My Mom shook her head, “Not a chance, my dear Crystal. You are forever a girl. Relax and enjoy yourself this evening. I love looking at you, my dearest.”

That night as I went to sleep, I was dressed in a sheer negligee. As I rolled onto my side, I felt my breasts touch each other. I hugged myself and smiled. Maybe I would enjoy being a girl. I had enjoyed myself very much, talking to Mom about girl things. She told me that I would go through my menstrual cycle each month, and that, because of the estrogen, I would have mood swings and perhaps even some depression. We talked about many other things that only a mother and daughter can share. We talked about men, boys, women, girls, food, drink, music, art, fashions, feelings, hopes, dreams, and much more. “Crystal, you will enjoy being a girl, so much better than being a guy. There is a closeness that only girls can know.”

The next morning, I undressed in the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet and went pee. It was such a strange feeling to go to the bathroom hands free. I gathered some tissue, as Mom had told me to do, and dabbed myself dry. Then I got in the shower after letting the water warm up. As I lathered my body, I took time to explore myself. I gently probed my vagina with my index and middle finger, careful not to scratch myself with my fingernails. I opened my labia and carefully found my clitoris right where my mother had said it would be. It was so strange to be without my male equipment. I felt my ample breasts. Mom had said that I was a size C, which was generous for my 5’-4” frame. I felt my smooth calves, thighs, hips and buttocks.

As I dried off after the shower, I took time to admire my lovely face. I had hazel eyes that had just a tinge of green in them. My face was smooth, with very fine light hair above my upper lip. When I smiled, I had generous cheeks and beautiful dimples. My nose was not too large; a tad bit smaller than I had had when I was a boy. My eyelashes were not very long, but I knew that mascara would help with that. I looked forward to Mom showing me how to apply my makeup. Yesterday we had bought lip liner, lipstick, foundation, rouge, eyeliner, mascara, and eyeshadow. I had a beautiful face to work with. I pouted a bit and then put on a seductive look and knew that I could melt the heart of any guy. Why was I thinking this way, I wondered.

I had graduated from high school just a week before, so I didn’t have any classes to attend, which was good. I spent the day looking at family photos and wondering how Mom intended to handle our situation. When she got home around 5:30, I asked her about it. “Crystal, dear, you and I are going to go through an identity change. A friend of mine works for the US Marshals’ Witness Protection Service and she has figured out a way to relocate us and give us new identities. You will be able to keep your first name.” But I protested, “Mom, that means that I’ll never see my family or friends again! I can’t do that!” “Hush now, Crystal, you will do this if you love me. Besides, your loved ones would never believe that you used to be Chris.”

“Mom, tell me again how you changed me into a girl. I don’t really understand what happened.” My Mom said, “Sweetheart, your great-grandmother on my side of the family gave me the charm and the incantation. It had been passed down through the centuries. As I understand it, several of our ancestors have used it.” At this point she brought a small ornate box out of a kitchen cupboard. From it she took out a two-inch figurine that was a boy on one side and a girl on the other. They looked so lifelike. Then she took out a piece of vellum on which was written the incantation of which she had spoken. She untied the thin leather cord and unrolled the ancient parchment. On it were written the following words in Middle English:

If thee wanÞ bihofþe changæ thy boī bihofþe ain girl
then thee musÞ speak hẹ̄rte wordſ in th' moonlighÞ

Ich am readī bihofþe uttē̆r uncǒu wordſ
bihofþe changæ mīn boī intī ain dear girl
hæ shalt nōn-ọ̄ther longē̆r bæ hæ
hæ shalt becomæ wellā̆ pretty
malæ flesh shalt bæ femalæ flesh
turn hider figuræ rounede a'd rounede

Ich wish mīn boī bæ ain girl
maī hæ bæ shæ f'revē̆r
maī malæ bæ femalæ singallīce
maī shæ nē̆verte bæ changede backeth
maī hē̆r figuræ bæ pretty
maī hē̆r beautī ensnaræ men

After reading it, I said, “Mom, I can understand most of the words. I get the gist of it. How did you know how to pronounce the words?” She said, “I found a Middle English scholar and asked him how to pronounce the words that I could not pronounce. I bound him to silence concerning the content of the incantation. He vowed never to speak a word of it to anyone. It had no effect when I said the words because I was not turning the figurine around and around as I read the incantation. I had written the words out phonetically so I could pronounce them properly.” I shook my head, “Mom, this is all quite remarkable. May I keep this in case I have a boy that I want to be a girl?” Mom said, “Yes, sweetheart, and here is the phonetic translation.”

After we had been relocated and had new identities, my Mom came into my room and sat down on my bed. She said, “Crystal, come here for a minute.” I sat down beside her. “I want to tell you some things about your sexuality. “ She proceeded to tell me how to masturbate as a girl, assuming that I had done so as a boy. She instructed me in the use of jelly, that I was to gently rub my clitoris with, and bring myself to a climax. She also told me that I could have sex with a boy as long as I was on the pill, and what to do if I ever became pregnant. She also told me that I could have a girlfriend if I wanted. She told me that she had had a lesbian lover. Then she said that I could also chose to be bisexual if that suited me better.

I applied for financial assistance to go to college. I wanted to be an interior designer. I was accepted and I stayed at home because the college was in town. That made Mom happy. I met a young man in school, and I really liked him. At his apartment we made love, and he penetrated me three times in one evening, bringing me to a climax each time. He sucked on my nipples, which I also enjoyed very much. I also found that I was drawn to a young girl in my class. She and I undressed each other and made out in her apartment. We hugged and kissed and brought each other to climax. While I considered myself to be bisexual, I found that I was much more comfortable with my girlfriend than with my boyfriend. I just was.

One day Mom and I went out for lunch between my classes. While we ate, Mom said, “Crystal, dear, I didn’t tell you the whole story about the figurine and the incantation. My great-grandmother found out that my mother, her granddaughter, wanted a girl instead of a boy. I was born a boy. My father abandoned us, and so my mother felt free to tell her grandmother of her heart’s desire. Her grandmother came to her house and said the incantation over me when I was just a boy of five. I remember just enough of being a boy. I waited until you were eighteen, because my husband and I were still married, and I knew that he would strenuously object to my turning you into a girl. I hated that you had such memories of being a boy.

“Mom, you did what you could and what you thought best. I have no regrets now. I am happy with being a girl. When I look back on my life as a boy, I have no longing to return to that gender. I am really content with being the female that you brought into existence. I am glad that I turned out as well as I did. I am also not insecure with my possibly being loved just for my good looks. If he or she doesn’t love me for who I really am, then that is their loss. I think that when you changed me into a girl, you were correct that I did not just change physiologically but changed in terms of my emotions and my thoughts. I really am a girl through and through, and I thank you for that. My life is so much richer for being a girl. I’ve no wish to go back.”

I never would have dreamed that I would want to become pregnant, but one day I came to the realization that I wanted to have a daughter of my own. I was twenty-six at the time. The guy that I was seeing at the time was handsome, intelligent, and kind, but I knew that if I got pregnant he would leave me. But I was content with the thought of being a single mom. I didn’t want anything but to have a daughter. I did get pregnant, and he did leave me. I found out through the ultrasound that the fetus was a male. I thought that I would try something. I used the figurine and the incantation while the infant was still in my womb. Six months later I gave birth to a beautiful little girl. Her name is Hannah, and she is now a precocious four.

There is never any thought as to how my life might have gone as a boy. I have no interest in that kind of speculation. I am so happy that my mother changed me into a girl. I can’t imagine a better life. I am so glad that my child is a girl. I will most likely give her the charm and the spell, so that she can be sure of having a daughter like my mother and me. I suppose that someday I will tell Hannah that she might have been a boy, but that she was much better off being a girl. Girls are so pretty, sensitive, and intelligent. I suppose that there would be a problem if there were no boys, but I am not going to worry about that. I just know that I am going to luxuriate in the fact that I and my daughter are girls, and hopefully all our descendants will be.