When I was 13, something strange happened just after school started. I'll never forget. My chest began to torture me, itching one minute and aching the next, but my shirtless image in the mirror showed no rash. I saw nothing but healthy skin. Was my condition normal for a teenage boy? I doubted it.

After rubbing and staring at my nipples for several minutes, I threw my tee shirt back on before Sarah caught me. Sharing a bathroom with a little sister could be embarrassing, even though we got along very well. She was always been nice and fairly quiet, but like most younger siblings, she found it hard to pass up an opportunity to tease her older brother. It didn't matter though. I didn't have time to examine myself. I had to get ready for school.

School was another kind of torture. Nelson Middle School sits on the edge of a hill, surrounded by high chain link fencing. The buildings and fields are an organized set of dull gray and green rectangles. I hated it.

My school overflowed with bullies and being the third smallest boy in my class made me a popular target. School was my prison and I had no chance of parole or early release. I had to carry out my two year sentence there and then move on to a low security high school the next year.

I sat on my bed, daydreaming about home schooling when a voice interrupted.

"Alan! Sarah! Hurry or you'll be late for school," my mother called from the kitchen.

Sarah and I raced to the kitchen to grab our lunches and then ran outside, Sarah to catch up with her friends and me to begin my long solitary walk. I had a few neighbor friends but they went to a private school. I was on my own.

As I walked, I absently scratched my chest and lost myself in thought. None of the other boys in class mentioned any similar problems. Perhaps, like me, they were too embarrassed, or perhaps they were too proud to admit their discomfort. I wouldn't dream of talking to any of them, and I didn't even think to ask my younger sister or parents, so I turned to the Internet.

What I found disturbed me. Boys can develop breasts, though for most of them, the breasts are temporary. The more extreme cases require surgery to remove the excess tissue, but nothing is said about how long the affected boys have to wait. The longer the wait, the greater the embarrassment. I said nothing to anyone and waited with dread for any signs of swelling.

***

Months crept by and still my chest appeared to be that of a normal male teenager, even after the itching and pain gave way to an unmistakable jiggling sensation. The jiggling became uncomfortable when I ran fast or jumped up and down, and I couldn't stop it. I pressed my hands to my chest while jumping and still felt bouncing flesh. There was only one explanation. I had invisible, intangible breasts!

By the time I got to high school, I was desperate for relief. I would've gladly wore a bra if it would help, but a bra couldn't hold my breasts. Nothing could. If only the odd sensations I had matched what I saw and felt with my hands. I would've rather have developed real breasts and dealt with the consequences. I thought I was going crazy.

After weeks of fruitless research, I withdrew, avoiding any activity that reminded me of my ghostly breasts. When I had to go somewhere, I walked slowly and carefully. Reading sci-fi and fantasy stories and playing computer games took up most of my free time. I wasn't a happy person.

My few friends soon gave up on me, and my mother worked part time so she didn't see me enough to realize what I was going through. Only my little sister seemed to care. We slept in adjacent bedrooms so I'm sure she heard me cry myself to sleep. She hugged me often and gave me some amount of comfort.

In spite of my impossible situation, I refused to give up hope. I continued to surf the Internet, watching for someone with the same problem, and I discovered something interesting. Something called phantom limb syndrome caused people to feel limbs that had been amputated. It sometimes happened with other body parts too, and something like it could even happen to people who'd been born without limbs. I thought it might apply to me and hoped it would help lead me to a solution to my problem. At least it gave me a name for my condition. I had phantom breasts.

Although I found it difficult to accept them, my breasts developed gradually enough that I got used to the idea, if not the sensation. They weren't so shocking that I couldn't function. It wasn't until a few months later that I realized my condition was more serious than I thought. I was in for a real shock.

When I did my research, I didn't think to check on something else that had been bothering me, something that I should've known was related to my odd breast development. It took a random encounter before I figured it out. There was no way I would've guessed.

"Is it that time of the month?" I heard one girl ask another, with the other girl wincing in pain and holding her stomach.

As soon as I heard that, I understood. I learned it all in Health class. I'd been having monthly abdominal pains for over a year so not only did I have phantom boobs, I had a phantom uterus! The revelation hit me hard, and the next thing I knew, I found myself lying on the ground, looking up into several concerned faces. I'd fainted.

***

Like middle school, I had a long, lonely walk to high school, and it took me longer than it should've because I had to walk slowly to keep my jiggling to a minimum. As far as I was concerned, there was only one nice difference between middle and high school. My new school didn't look like a prison. It had a modern style that blended in with the landscape. I quite liked it from the outside.

Inside was a different story. My Physical Education classes put me through hell. Boys in high school took sports even more seriously than they did in middle school, and you either did well or they tortured you. Without any overt physical cause, I couldn't get out of class so I had to suffer. My unrestrained boobs and monthly cramps made me an awkward, clumsy boy and verbal abuse followed me everywhere. They called me the Amazing Clod Boy, and much, much worse. School traumatized me regularly enough that the days became a mind numbing blur, and I think that actually helped. I stumbled through life, somewhat insulated from emotional pain, and I survived.

Two years into high school my development continued to lag behind my male classmates. I was still short and petite. Only my phantom boobs continued to grow. They were larger than ever, and I still couldn't figure out what to do about it.

When I started my junior year, Sarah managed to brighten my life as she entered her first year of high school. She sat and talked with me during lunch when no one else would. It meant a lot to me but I couldn't let it continue. My unpopular reputation would likely rub off on her if she stayed with me. I wouldn't let her ruin her social life for me so I had to do something.

I whined enough to my mom to get her to make several doctor appointments, being careful to be vague about my problem. Nothing came of it, though I did learn a new word I didn't like. The doctors labeled my pain and discomfort as being psychosomatic. In other words, they thought I imagined it. Modern medical devices couldn't detect phantom body parts so I felt I had no alternative. I had to go beyond science and enter the world of the occult.

Delving into the occult conjured some scary images for me, and my very active and vivid imagination kept me on edge every night. Even after I drifted off to sleep, my fears found me and tainted my dreams.

After suffering so long with my phantom femininity, I truly believed nearly anything was possible. I knew enough not to trust everything I read of course. What scared me the most was not knowing how to separate fact from fiction, and the Internet, my best source of information, didn't label its questionable content.

The word "intuition" popped up quite frequently in my online searches, and that slowly led me to witchcraft. My own intuition screamed at me to find a witch, and with nothing else to go on, I listened to myself.

***

"I'm not sure about this," Sarah said after I asked her to cover for me one night. "It's a bit late to go out. Mom and Dad won't like it."

"It shouldn't take more than a couple hours," I told her. "I really need help with my ... condition."

"Yeah? Just what is your condition? You've never really given me a good answer. I've seen you hunching over. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were having a period."

I laughed nervously at that and had to grit my teeth to stop myself from getting hysterical.

"Look," I said. "I've tried doctors and they can't find anything wrong. My intuition tells me this witches coven can help. It's my only hope. Please say you'll help me."

Sarah's eyes widened slightly when she heard me say the word "intuition", and when I finished my plea, she gave me a probing look for several seconds before finally shaking her head. I worried that she'd refuse to help, but she surprised me.

"Okay. I'll think of something to tell mom and dad when they get home from their night out. So go on. Get out of here."

I hugged her tightly and whispered my thanks. Then I took off into the night to see the witches.

A strong, cold breeze scattered leaves on the dry pavement ahead of me. It blew right threw my light jacket, chilling me to the bone. I knew enough to wear a warmer coat in early October but I wanted an excuse to walk fast. A brisk pace would keep me warm and get me to my destination that much faster. It didn't matter that my ghostly breasts bounced so much because I was very anxious to get some answers.

Following the map directions I got from the Internet, I ended up about three miles from home in a ritzy residential area where the witches held their coven meetings. The house where they met looked so normal that I forgot about all of my fears. I just saw a very large house a full three stories high and thought that whoever owned it must be rich. I hoped that didn't mean they charged a lot for their services. I got only a small allowance and didn't have much money.

I slowly crept up to the porch and could hear laughing inside. That didn't give me a good feeling. I didn't think anything having to do with magic was a laughing matter. Still, what did I know. They might not have started yet. So I gathered my courage and knocked on the heavy wood door.

After waiting what I considered a reasonable length of time for someone to answer the door, I knocked again ... and waited. I still didn't get a response. I thought they might not have heard me but then I realized I didn't hear any laughing. I heard nothing but the wind rustling my hair and rushing by my ears. It was eerie.

On impulse, I rang the door bell and waited again. Then I pushed the door bell several times in a row. I could hear it working but the lack of a response started getting to me.

"Hello?" I called. "Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?"

A rich alto voice suddenly punctured the silence, startling me. The sound came from above and I looked up to see several faces looking down at me from two open windows on the second floor.

"Oh, we hear you, Dearie. We were just wondering why you're here. Are you lost?"

"Uh ... no ma'am. I'm not lost. I assure you, I'm not lost."

"Well then, why are you here?"

"I need your help."

Like my sister had done less than an hour ago, several women gave me an appraising look, and they too shook their heads until one of them spoke.

"He's right," a black haired woman said to the rest of her group. "He does need help. Look at his aura. It's unnatural."

The rest of the ladies nodded agreement and pulled their heads inside. They shut the windows and rushed downstairs to let me in.

Before I could think to ask any questions, several women pushed and pulled me to the center of a large red pentacle that had been painted on the polished black marble floor of the living room. Five women met that night and each one of them stood at one point of the pentacle holding a burning candle. They warned me not to move from where I stood and began to chant.

The witches chanted for what seemed like only a few minutes but turned out to be almost an hour. Time moved at its own pace in that house. When they finished, they ignored me for awhile and grouped together in the entry way to discuss their findings. I didn't know if I should move yet so I stubbornly stayed put and strained to hear their urgent whispers.

The longer I waited, the stranger I felt. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I felt like I had enough energy to run a marathon. I imagined the witches creating a magical sports bra that could contain my phantom boobs so I could run home without excessive bouncing.

After some indeterminate time, the women ended their huddle and came back to talk to me. The black haired woman seemed to be their leader and she immediately gave me the strangest look and opened her mouth to speak. I felt doomed.

"Why are you still standing in the pentacle? You silly boy! Move away from there at once and sit down in that chair." She pointed to a padded chair with a wooden back and I practically ran to it to sit down. The sudden movement quickly reminded me of my condition and my hands flew to my chest without thinking. I settled on the chair and when I looked up, I saw all of the women staring at me.

"Did you see that, Clarissa?" the oldest looking, gray-haired woman asked of the young blonde standing next to her. "I told you I saw feminine energy."

"Yes, I know. But it doesn't make sense," the blonde replied.

"Hush now," their apparent leader said. "Can't you see he's quite agitated? And where are our manners? We haven't even been properly introduced."

The ladies all sat down and with introductions out of the way, Vivian, the one I thought of as the leader, explained what they saw. Bernice, the older woman, was right. My body held an unusually high amount of feminine energy. It confused them because my physical body showed no outward signs of being feminine. I was underdeveloped for my age but my body was definitely male.

After their short talk, it was my turn. I told them what I'd been going through. That raised some eyebrows on a few of the women, but I noticed Bernice nodding. Perhaps there was hope for me yet.

"So? Can you help me?" I asked.

The women turned to look at each other and Vivian turned back to face me, sadly shaking her head.

I slumped down in the chair and cried.

The five witches jumped up from their seats and tried to comfort me but I had no hope left. My body would continue driving me crazy for the rest of my life, however long or short a period of time that would be.

"This is stupid," Bernice suddenly said. "There's still that hedge witch we could consult. What's her name again?"

"Liz," Clarissa said. "Her name is Liz Mason."

That got a surprisingly angry response from Vivian. "What?! Her?! That woman is crazy!"

Bernice raised her voice, refusing to back down. "She might have different ideas but she has the gift. She's stronger than any of us!"

"She's a hermit and a loon," Vivian spat. "She lives alone in her hovel and good riddance I say."

The two women glared at each other for an alarmingly long time before Bernice turned away.

"Come with me, Alan," Bernice said. "I'll take you home. It's getting late."

I got up to follow her and turned back to see Vivian still glaring at Bernice's back.

"Thanks for trying," I said, thinking I might defuse the situation. "What do I owe you?"

Vivian looked surprised but recovered nicely and managed a weak smile. "You don't owe us a thing, Dearie. I just wished we could've helped you. Now get yourself home. Bernice is right. It is getting late."

I shrugged and went outside with Bernice. We got into her small car and drove away.

During the short ride home, my emotions tore at my insides. My inner conflict must have shown on my face too because Bernice started the conversation that I couldn't. I didn't have the courage.

"Vivian means well but she can be a little opinionated sometimes," she said. "Liz used to be in our coven. She disagreed with our methods and motives one too many times so she was banned. But I really meant what I said. I think she can help you."

"Really?" I said in a small voice. After having my hopes dashed so many times, I didn't think I could handle having it happen again.

"Yes, really. It might take awhile but I'll contact her and see if she'll agree to see you."

Bernice smiled and I smiled too. Something about her made me trust her.

"Don't worry," she added. "Liz is a very nice young woman. After hearing about you, I'm sure she'll want to help."

We got back to my house and parked out front. It was Friday night and I was out long past my curfew but I didn't even think about my parents. I was too excited. I exchanged phone numbers with Bernice and rushed inside to find my mom waiting for me.

"Hi Mom."

"Hi yourself young man. Where were you?"

"Didn't Sarah tell you?" I bluffed.

"She said you went over to a friend's house. But she didn't know who it was and she didn't say you'd be home so late."

"Yeah, well it's a new friend and I lost track of time. Sorry."

Those weren't exactly lies. I hoped I could count on Bernice to be a friend and I truly did lose track of time with all of the chanting and serious discussions.

My mom answered me starting with a disapproving look.

"Well you had me worried," she said.

"I know. I know. I needed to get out. I don't know if you've noticed but I haven't been very social and ... I haven't been very happy about it."

"I noticed," she said quietly. "But you should've at least called."

I could tell she still wasn't satisfied but I sensed weakness so I went on the offensive.

"Look, Mom. I'm 16. I'm not a kid any more. I can take care of myself. Okay?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she finally gave in.

"Okay," she said, and I returned her smile.

"You can talk to me anytime you know," she added.

"I know, Mom. Thanks, but I'm not ready yet." What I really meant was that I didn't think she was ready to hear it.

"I have a feeling things will change for the better soon. Then we'll talk ... and you'll probably get tired of listening to me."

"Never," she said, moving to hug me.

I got lucky and got some quality time with my mother. Things were looking up. All I had to do was wait for Bernice to get me in contact with Liz and I was sure I'd be on my way to a happy life.

*** to be continued ***

© 2008 by Terry Volkirch. This work may not be replicated in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder). All Rights Reserved. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental.

Phantom Boobs - 2

Author:

Terry Volkirch

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

In part 2, Alan goes to see Liz, but does she really help him or do things just have to get worse before they get better? Witchcraft works in mysterious ways.

NOTE: I finished editing part 3. I'll post it tomorrow. I hope you enjoy my story.

Comments are gratefully received as always. :)

Phantom Boobs
by Terry Volkirch

Part 2 of 3

Morning came very early. I tossed and turned all night, dreaming about witches, magic and clothes shopping. My latest dream finally killed any chance I had at sleeping in. In that dream, I found myself in a shop filled with girl clothes. Bernice picked out a plain looking white bra for me and when I went into a dressing room to try it on, I was pleasantly surprised to find out it fit perfectly. I looked down to see breasts filling out the bra.

I woke up sweating, and vaguely disturbed by how happy I'd been in my dream. I wanted to believe that I'd just felt relieved that my phantom boobs would stop jiggling but I could tell there was more to it.

I shrugged off my mood and chalked it up to being excited about getting help. I had a strange feeling I'd be getting a call about Liz, and I was right.

Bernice called soon after I finished a bowl of cereal. I barely had time to rinse my bowl when the phone rang. It startled me but I recovered quickly enough to lunge and answer it before the second ring. I didn't want anyone else waking up.

As Bernice suspected, everything went well. Liz had said she'd be available all day so I set up an afternoon meeting at 2. Bernice would pick me up about 10 minutes early and take me to see the person who had the best chance of helping me.

After the call, I thought about meeting earlier, and I should've done so. Instead, I stubbornly clung to my regular Saturday morning routine of cartoons and web comics, and I paid the price. The rest of the morning crawled at a snail's pace. My family woke up and teased me for being the first one up. Then I spent the rest of the time being distracted by my upcoming meeting. I couldn't concentrate well enough to enjoy the cartoons and I had to reread each comic several times before I could move on to the next. Every little thing either reminded me of my problem or my chance to solve it.

Bernice arrived to find me sitting on the curb in front of my house, nervously tossing pebbles and plucking blades of grass. I couldn't think straight.

I jumped in the car and this time Bernice was the quiet one. Maybe she sensed how tightly wound I was and thought I might need to talk. If so, she was right. I chatted the whole way, and I even told her about my disturbing dream.

"My my," she said. "I had no idea it could be so traumatic to be a girl."

Her response shamed me, even with its sarcastic tone. I did make my dream sound much worse than it should be so I ignored the sarcasm. So far, she'd helped me quite a lot and I meant to show my gratitude by being as nice and polite as I could. I blushed and turned away, feigning interest in the passing line of trees that stood between the road and the sidewalk. We spent the rest of the ride in silence.

We drove through a section of small, old houses and pulled up in front of a drab looking gray house. What I thought were weeds filled the yard, but I later found out they were herbs. The whole yard was really an herb garden, filled with edible and medicinal herbs. The place was in stark contrast to the house where the coven met.

Liz came out and met us with a smile before we got half way to the door. I liked her immediately. She had long straight hair, a slightly lighter shade of brown than my own. It made me wonder what color Bernice's hair was before it turned gray. I thought it would be nice if we were all brunettes. We were all very close to the same height and I imagined us being a family. I felt so comfortable with them, I thought of them as relatives.

Our hostess led us inside to a couch in the living room and, as we sat down, reached for a steaming pot of tea that sat nearby on an old wooden coffee table.

I noticed three cups sitting on a tray and tried to tell her I didn't want any tea. Unfortunately, she filled the first cup too quickly and handed it to me before I could say anything. So I took it and held it in my lap, not intending to drink any.

"Please drink some of the tea," she said. "It'll help you relax."

That surprised me, making me wonder if she was psychic until I realized how rigidly I moved and sat. I did need to relax so I tried a sip. It tasted good.

"Now then," Liz said. "Bernice told me all about you, Alan. I only have a few more things to ask you." She began asking me to name some of my favorite things like color and hobbies, running down a list that she'd written down. She held the paper in one hand to read from it and sipped her tea when listening to my answers.

Her questions sounded like an interview for a matchmaking service, like she intended to find a date for me. It was silly to think she could be interested in me. I was too young for her, but maybe she had a lonely niece. I wouldn't mind dating one of her relatives if they looked anything like her. I guess I couldn't help fantasizing since I'd never had a girlfriend. Fantasies were all I ever had.

Once she finished with her list, she also asked about my dreams. I told her about the one I had last night, and once again, I blushed, this time from embarrassment when she giggled at me.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I think it's cute."

"I guess," I said, looking down at my feet.

"Shall we begin then?" Liz said, suddenly getting up.

"Begin what?"

"Liz is going to examine you this time," Bernice said. "She has a different style than my coven and might find out more about your feminine energy."

"Okay. Sure. What do I do?"

I looked around for a pentacle on the floor but all I saw was a ratty looking beige carpet. I expected to stand in the middle of a pentacle and listen to more chanting but Liz didn't work like that.

"Put the tea down and stand over here, please." Liz pointed to a spot by a large window on the south side of the house. "I want to get a lot of natural light behind you."

I stood where she wanted me to and closed my eyes, concentrating on my phantom body parts as she directed. Every so often, she had me turn a quarter of the way around and continued to scan me, or whatever it was she did. The whole process lasted nearly an hour, just as it did with the coven, before Liz said I could sit down again.

"So?" I said anxiously. "What did you find? Can you help me?"

"Interesting," was all she said at first. She looked deep in thought and I suffered for several minutes waiting for her results.

When she finally started talking, I couldn't believe my ears. According to her, my body appeared to hold two souls, one male and the other female. The female soul was trapped in the wrong body, and since it didn't have a female physical body, it tried to manifest itself as a very highly energized astral body. She told me she'd never seen anything like it before.

"Amazing," Bernice said. "We didn't get that at all when we examined him."

"Didn't you say you examined him at night in a pentacle ritual?" Liz said. "You didn't have optimal lightning conditions. That's why I had him stand in front of the window. I got better contrast from his silhouette that way."

The two women continued talking as if I wasn't there, and I was pleased to note that the young witch spoke with no sarcasm or patronizing tone. She radiated nothing but kindness and compassion, and her methods varied quite a bit from the coven. I began to understand why Vivian didn't get along with her, and realized Vivian's coven could learn quite a bit from Liz. I could also see that this wise young woman offered me more than just hope. My intuition told me she truly could help me, and the sooner the better.

"Can you remove the female soul?" I blurted, fearing the two witches would keep discussing magic techniques if I didn't speak up.

"Oh," Liz said, and then turned to me. "Actually, I'm not sure I should try to do anything that specific, but I can try a general spell that should move you in the right direction. Would you like to try it now?"

"Yes! Please."

Bernice suggested a banishing ritual as we left the living room but Liz disagreed. Apparently, my female soul remained firmly embedded in my psyche. Ripping it out might damage me in some way so Liz thought it prudent to let my inner girl find its own way out. She planned to help me accept its presence and empower it to release itself. That sounded reasonable to me.

Liz led Bernice and me to a small bedroom with a hardwood floor. The bedroom contained only a modest rectangular wooden table below the window and a thick, round rug in the middle of the floor. She had us sit cross-legged on the purple rug and hold hands to make a circle.

As we sat, we shut our eyes and imagined energy circulating in a clockwise direction, moving through our bodies and flowing from one to the other through our joined hands. While we sat, Liz used guided imagery to help add to the ritual, and she appealed to the universe to find a way to help me accept my "gift" and help my inner girl find contentment. Liz's methods certainly differed from the coven but I never felt more excited and alive. The energy was unbelievable!

I'm not sure how long the ritual lasted. Once again, time flowed at its own pace. The only thing I know was that the energy level slowly built until it felt like my body glowed and my hands burned. The circulating energy gathered enough power that we could no longer contain it. Both Liz and Bernice squeezed my hands just before Liz suddenly shouted.

"So mote it be!"

That was it. We all let go of each others' hands and fell back on the floor, releasing the energy out into the universe to work its magic.

Between the relaxing tea and my restless sleep last night, exhaustion quickly overcame me. I could barely keep my eyes open. Liz and Bernice helped me out to Bernice's car to take me home. I remember mumbling my thanks but not much else before Bernice dropped me off at my doorstep. I stumbled inside and up to my bedroom to flop on my bed. I fell asleep in seconds.

The next thing I knew, I woke up with a blanket over me and I could hear my mother calling to me to dinner from downstairs.

"Alan? Are you awake? Dinner time!"

I slowly made my way to the dining room to join my family already eating.

"Hi Sleepy Head," Mom said.

"Hi everyone."

I looked at the clock to see the digital stove clock read 6 p.m.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked.

"Almost two hours, I think," Sarah told me. "I heard you come in and go upstairs around 4 but didn't hear anything else after that."

"Yeah. I didn't sleep very well last night. I needed a good nap."

"Well, dig in, Son," Dad said. "Before your sister eats it all."

"Dad!" Sarah laughed, and we all joined her before starting our normal dinner conversation.

My parents grilled my sister and me about our activities and we tried our best to give away as little as possible. My life had fallen back into its normal routine, everything except for a nagging feeling that changes were coming, and soon.

***

A change did occur on the night of the next full moon. I remember it well ... sort of.

Luckily, I'd had an early dinner and retired to my bedroom to do my homework. I remember it getting dark outside. The moon rose soon after sunset and moonlight filtered through my window as I sat at my computer doing homework. I'd nearly finished my last assignment when the pain hit.

Intense pain coursed through my entire body, and it hit so hard and so quickly that I blacked out. I don't know what happened after that. I only remember waking up naked on my bed the next morning, shivering from the cold.

I sat up and stupidly looked around. The time showed I still had 30 minutes before I normally got up for school.

"What the heck happened?" I asked the room.

My discomfort stopped any more questions I might have had. I had to get up and grab my bathrobe to ward off the cold. I even did a few calisthenics to warm myself up more quickly. I didn't do them for long though because my phantom boobs immediately reminded me of their presence. Their excessive bouncing drove me crazy.

I stood still for a moment, trying to think of a low impact exercise I could try when I noticed my computer. The screen displayed an open window, which struck me as odd because the screen saver and power saver should've kicked in hours ago.

I walked over to have a look and saw a chat program I didn't recognize. Someone named Allie had been chatting and logged out, leaving her screen name displayed at the bottom. Logging out had cleared whatever conversation had occurred so I nothing to go on. Who the heck was Allie?

I looked around for more clues and saw a note on my desk next to my mouse pad. The note contained the following strange set of cryptic letters:

VS! 34C Jr3 XS

I thought the first number and letter combination could be a bra size and I shuddered when I thought about what that might mean.

As I stared at the note, a new sensation slowly crept up on me. It took me a moment to realize what it was, and when I did, I'm sure my face went pale. I had a very strange and very strong urge to go clothes shopping. What the heck?!

I had to contact Liz as soon as possible, and I had to do something about my new compulsion. Something very odd happened last night and I knew it had something to do with the spell. I didn't have Liz's phone number so I called Bernice first. After updating her and promising to keep her informed, I got what I needed and made another call.

"Liz? It's Alan. Can we meet ... uh ... at the mall after school, say around 4? I'm not sure what happened last night but I think your spell started working."

After some careful prodding by Liz, I reluctantly explained why I wanted to meet at the mall and my new friend readily agreed to meet me. Then I hung up and proceeded to get ready for school.

I threw on some clothes, stuffed the cryptic note in my pocket and hurried downstairs to make sure I could get a ride to the mall after school. I had to brave a fair amount of teasing from my family but I just had to get to that mall.

***

School might have dragged by at an exceedingly slow pace if I hadn't found myself constantly daydreaming about clothes, and not just any clothes. No, I had to daydream about girls clothes. To make things worse, after the first couple classes, my imagination didn't stop with clothes. I began adding makeup, jewelry and all sorts of other accessories. My compulsion was getting out of hand.

I alternated between groaning about my fixation and getting excited about shopping. It felt like there was a game of tug-of-war going on inside my head and I just wanted it to stop.

When lunch rolled around, Sarah showed up at my table as usual. She sat down to talk to me and I tried to ignore my new interest in fashion, but my mouth betrayed me.

"That's a lovely shade of lipstick you're wearing," I said to my horror. It just slipped out.

"Thanks," Sarah responded. "It's quite expensive but I love the color."

It was almost comical when it finally sunk in who she was talking to and what we were talking about. Her eyes widened in shock and her lips moved but no sound came out other than a faint squeak.

"I know," I told her. "Please don't try to talk. Just listen."

She slowly nodded.

"This has to do with my condition, the one I've been hiding from everyone. It's related to what I just said to you and it's getting worse. I thought witchcraft would help but things aren't working out."

I was close to tears then. I couldn't help myself. I thought I'd be getting better with Liz's help.

Sarah gave me a sympathetic look and lightly touched my arm. As usual, I could count on her for support and that gave me a wild idea. I thought I could continue to depend on her so I decided to take a chance.

"I'm going to ask a favor now, and this might sound hard to believe."

"Okay," Sarah managed to get out.

"Would you go to the mall with me after school? I'd like your help with ... something." I couldn't bring myself to specify that something. I couldn't say the word, but that didn't stop Sarah from saying it.

"You want me to help you shop?!" Her mouth hung open and she slipped back into shock.

I spent the rest of our lunch time trying to snap her out of it, and I wisely decided to wait until we got to the mall before I told her the rest. I just hoped she didn't faint when she found out what I wanted to buy.

***

I couldn't get to the mall fast enough. I sat in the back seat with Sarah in the front while our mother drove us.

"Can't you drive any faster?" I whined.

"Goodness," Mom said. "Why the hurry? Are you meeting a girl?"

"Mom!"

"Oh. Right. You're taking Sarah with you. I don't understand this at all."

"I don't either," I muttered.

We arrived without further incident, but I felt bad about not telling my mother more. I had to remind myself that she wouldn't believe it.

"I'll be back to pick you up in two hours," Mom said.

"Can you make it three?" I said. "Please?" Something told me I'd need more time.

My mother gave me a funny look but nodded agreement and drove off, leaving Sarah and me to find Liz.

Before I even entered the mall, I looked around at the chaotic jumble of buildings in different sizes and colors and sighed. Everything seemed so much more interesting than the last time I'd come. Usually, I'd only go to buy a couple things I needed and leave as soon as I could. Now I couldn't wait to spend as much time as I could.

We met up with Liz at the bookstore like we'd planned. She didn't care much for the new age section but she loved romance novels. We caught her reading the back of a novel in the fiction section and I introduced her to my sister. Then we got down to some serious talk.

After quietly updating Liz and then spilling virtually everything to my sister in the bookstore, I surprised myself. I felt nothing but relief. Maybe I'd used up my embarrassment quota for the day.

Liz reacted much as I expected. She stared into space, lost in thought. I left her alone and concentrated on helping my sister accept what I'd just told her.

Sarah didn't take it too badly, really. She didn't faint and her mouth didn't hang open. I watched a couple minutes as she shook her head in disbelief and then sprung the last surprise. I pulled my note out.

"I found this note on my desk the morning after the full moon," I told her. "Are these all clothing sizes?"

"All except for the first one," Sarah said.

We caught Liz's attention and she took a quick look at the note.

"Interesting. Is this your handwriting?"

"I don't know," I said, taking another good look. "There isn't enough to be sure. You don't think I wrote it, do you?"

"I don't know who else could've written it," the young witch said. "But I need more information. This is all new to me. The only thing that comes to mind is multiple personality disorder but that doesn't explain everything."

"Well?" Sarah interrupted as I started to ask a question.

"Well, what?" I replied.

"Come on! Why did we come here? I know what the first part of the note means. It's time for some serious lingerie shopping!"

My shopping crazy sister grabbed me by the wrist and led me to a very large store that specialized in lingerie. I'd never heard of the place but Sarah and Liz both assured me it had a lot of nice things.

I hesitated near the entrance and stared at the window displays.

"Do I have to go in there?" I said, blushing. "Can't you just buy it for me? You have the sizes."

Liz gave me a curious look and let Sarah handle me.

"Brother, Dear. Don't you want to go in and look at all the pretty things?"

She played rough, appealing to my inner girl, and I felt my fears ebbing, allowing my shopping compulsion to surface again.

"I'm ... I don't ...," I stammered.

"You have to look to see which styles and colors you prefer," Sarah continued with a sly smile. "Come on. It'll be fun."

I lost it then. I lost my mind and marched into the store on a mission. I ended up giving some money to Sarah and letting her pay for my lingerie selections but I paid for everything else in the next couple stores until my money ran out.

"I can't believe I'm broke already," I whined. "I was just getting warmed up."

"I'm impressed, Sis," Sarah said. "You have a good eye for fashion and got some great bargains."

"Sis?!" I said, bristling.

"Well you've been acting more like a sister than a brother for the past two hours."

She had me there. If I doubted her words, all I had to do was look at what I'd bought. I carried four bags that contained a pair of pink and white walking shoes and a purse in addition to loads of feminine clothing and lingerie.

"Well at least don't call me that in public," I said quietly.

"Sure thing, Allie," Sarah said with a giggle.

I started to protest but she hugged me to show me that she really cared. It worked well. I returned the hug with a lot of affection. I felt lucky to have her as my sister.

Liz remained very quiet most of the time. She'd become a spectator of sorts, watching my every move. It made me a little nervous the few times I noticed her, but I let it continue. I asked her to come for a good reason and she tried her best to help by looking for every possible clue. That included changes in my behavior.

I think all three of us wondered if I could ever be satisfied with enough shopping. I continued to exceed expectations when I insisted on window shopping. I might have run out of money but I still enjoyed looking.

With about 15 minutes left before Sarah and I were to be picked up, I had a last sudden urge to get a few more things. I begged and promised to pay Sarah back with interest if she'd only lend me the money to buy some mascara, eyeliner and lip gloss. Thankfully, she agreed without batting an eye.

"You know, I always wanted a glamorous older sister," Sarah casually remarked as we left the mall.

"Hey! Knock it off!" I shouted, causing Sarah and Liz to laugh.

Before we separated, Sarah and I exchanged email addresses with Liz, and Liz promised to do some research and give my problem more thought. Then things got a little tricky.

I neglected to think about how I'd explain my purchases to my mother. It took Sarah by surprise too.

"We could say you couldn't find what you were looking for," she offered. "I'll say all of this stuff is mine."

"Right," I said. "I'm just carrying this for you."

"You don't have to carry it all."

"Yes, I do," I said, clutching the bags more tightly.

My inner girl mentally squealed with delight while I shopped and now she complained just as strongly at the thought of parting with what I'd bought, even for the short ride home.

"Interesting," Liz said. Then she walked away, deep in thought.

"Thanks!" I called after her.

She did a little finger wave without turning around. That was the last I saw of her for several weeks. In the meantime, my life just kept getting stranger.

*** to be continued ***

Phantom Boobs - 3

Author:

Terry Volkirch

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

7,500 < Novelette < 17,500 words

Genre:

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

You know you're in trouble when a witch tells you your aura is unnatural. Alan deals with his problem by turning to magic, but then magic seems to be making things worse. What will Alan do next, and just who is Allie? Read on and find out. :)

All comments will be celebrated with gusto. Please join in the celebration by leaving a comment today.

Phantom Boobs
by Terry Volkirch

Part 3 of 3

The morning before the next full moon, Sarah made an unusual request before breakfast, but I listened because it involved money. I'd become a human dynamo the past three weeks doing extra chores for money. I even started looking for a part time job. I was desperate for more shopping money.

"It's a full moon tonight," she said, stating the obvious to me. "Can I stay with you tonight and see what happens?"

"I don't know about that."

"You said you experienced a lot of pain last time. Maybe I can help. Please? You won't have to pay me back for the makeup if you let me."

Forgiving my debt made the difference. I agreed to let her sit with me, thinking we'd probably do nothing but talk all night. Playing dress up didn't occur to me at all, and it's a good thing it didn't. If I thought she'd help me dress up in my girls clothes, I wouldn't have let her stay, and it might have taken several more months to find out exactly what the full moon did to me.

***

I woke up the next morning well before my radio alarm clock could do its job. I didn't see any sign of Sarah so I began my daily routine of stretching and groaning. It usually took me a long time to get out of bed.

I happily noted that a blanket covered me. I wasn't shivering like I did after the last full moon. That was an improvement so I hoped for the best and slowly managed to swing my legs over the edge of my bed. The weight of my legs helped provide leverage to get me up the rest of the way. I really hated mornings.

After finally sitting up, still wrapped in my blanket, I rubbed my eyes and realized I wasn't completely naked. I usually slept in a tee shirt and underwear, and though shirtless, I felt something hugging my derriere. It had to be underwear but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it felt different.

A chill went down my spine as I cautiously slid my blanket up my right leg to investigate. It was like being in a horror movie. I had to see.

After revealing my upper thigh, a stretchy purple cotton fabric came into view. I gasped and ripped off the blanket to find myself wearing panties!

Everything in my bedroom suddenly snapped into sharp focus and every sound seemed ten times louder than normal. Though the power saver function had turned off my monitor, the computer fan continued to hum, and I clung to that sound, trying to use it as a distraction to block a rising surge of panic.

I absently covered myself back up with my blanket, and listened to my computer fan until something else occurred to me. My computer had been shut down before Sarah joined me last night. Now I wondered why it was on. I jumped out of bed, nudged the mouse to wake up my monitor and saw the following message displayed in an open text editor window:

Thx for the clothes, Alan. They fit great!

Sarah thinks so too. :)

<3 Allie

I couldn't believe my eyes. I had to talk to Sarah, and soon. First things first though. I needed a trip to the bathroom. I pulled my panties down and used my foot to sling them under the bed. Then, after a quick, nervous glance to confirm I had the right plumbing, I threw on my bath robe and marched into the bathroom.

After locking the door, I muttered to myself and thought about how just when you think things can't get any worse, they do. So I had a bad feeling when I hung my robe on the clothes hook on the back of the door. I turned and saw my reflection in the mirror, and I screamed. I was wearing makeup!

The next thing I knew, the sound of insistent knocking filtered into my brain, and I looked up at the door from where I sat naked on the bathroom floor.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"Alan? It's me ... Sarah. Open up."

"Just a minute. I'm not quite done."

My subconscious mind still operated on some level when I got up off the floor. I sat on the toilet seat to pee and even wiped myself before I realized what I'd done. When my feminine actions finally sunk in, I gasped and practically flew off the toilet.

"Are you okay in there?" my sister called through the door.

"Yeah. Sure. Just a second."

I put on my robe and unlocked the door for Sarah. She barged in and immediately wrinkled her nose.

"Ew, Alan. Why didn't you flush?"

"I'm sorry," I said, on the verge of tears.

Sarah flushed the toilet and then turned back to look at me with concern. I think she saw the tears building up in my eyes first. Then the makeup got her attention.

"Oh, look at you. We need to remove that."

She grabbed my wrist, gently pulling me into her room and shutting the door behind us. After moving a chair, she got me to sit at her vanity and removed my makeup while whispering soothing words in my ear. It was a surreal moment but I had to admit that somewhere deep down inside myself, I liked it.

Sarah finished her job and looked me over to make sure she hadn't missed anything. She smiled at her efforts but she rapidly changed gears and surprised me by getting angry.

"You're lucky you didn't wake Mom and Dad," she growled. "What were you thinking?"

My lower lip trembled. I didn't know what scared me more, my sister or the answer to her question. I decided to try something different and focus on how I felt at that moment, and I told her.

"That I'm a freak," I said, just before the tears ran down my cheeks.

My sister's anger vanished and she bent down to hug me. She tried to console me but she couldn't stop the tears. I had to cry myself out on my own.

"Feel better now?" She asked when I'd finished.

I nodded.

"There's nothing like a good cry to make a girl feel better," she added before she could stop herself. She put her hand over her mouth but I gave her a weak smile to show her it didn't bother me.

She smiled back for a brief moment. Then her face turned serious.

"We have to talk," she said.

Unfortunately, I'd already had more than I could take. My sister tried to tell me what happened last night but I slipped into severe denial and wouldn't believe what she told me. I couldn't believe her and still keep my sanity. Having phantom body parts were one thing but what she told me went far beyond that.

"Alan," she said, trying to get my attention. "Alan!"

"No. It's impossible. I don't believe it. I won't."

"Oh! You're impossible," Sarah fumed. "Next time I'll take pictures. Then you'll have to believe it."

"Pictures can be faked."

"Alan! Please! I'm not lying. Why would I lie?"

I refused to listen to my sister or anyone else ever again about my condition. What Liz had told me in the bookstore kept replaying in my mind. I stubbornly believed that I had some rare form of multiple personality disorder and nothing else would make me change my mind. Nothing.

***

I kept my recently acquired love of shopping under control by window shopping on the Internet. I still worked hard to make money so I could supply my feminine habit but the more I bought, the easier it became to resist buying something new.

In addition to my fashion sense, I noticed another change in myself that was no doubt influenced by the last full moon. I became much more emotional, and what's more, I could easily read emotions in others. I read people's faces and body language like a book, sensing their moods and often predicting what they'd say before they said it. I amazed myself, and I think I would've appreciated the ability if I didn't associate it so strongly with girls.

I shouldn't love to shop, and I shouldn't be so emotional. I felt my male self slowly slipping away and I cried. I couldn't stop it, no matter how hard I tried.

Sarah helped me a lot. We seemed closer than ever, chatting at school during lunch and resuming our conversations long into the evening at home. I thought it counterproductive to indulge in girl talk but I couldn't help myself. It came naturally to me and effortlessly slipped out.

With less than a week before the next full moon, I realized something had changed when my mom started joining my sisterly girl talk sessions. Sarah must have told our mother something about what was happening to me. I tried to be angry about it but I couldn't bring myself to be angry at my sister or mother so I directed the anger inward. I hated the girly boy I'd become.

"No more!" I cried. "No more talk. This is crazy!"

"You're talking now," my sister teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes. Don't be silly, Alan," my mother added, but it was too late.

I didn't respond after that. I went to my room and locked the door, vowing to withdraw with renewed vigor. In my imagination, my self-imposed isolation took the form of a huge castle of ice on a mountain peak. The outer wall curved around into an oval shape to surround the keep with its single, tall tower. The round tower had a spiral staircase that led up to a room, and the room had a locked door that both prevented entrance and exit. Inside that room, I laid on a soft bed of snow, looking up at the white conical ceiling of the tower. Tears ran down the sides of my face, crystallizing into icicles. My cold fortress symbolized my supreme effort of will to keep my emotions in check, only allowing a controlled, slow trickle of sadness to escape.

***

Liz made an appearance at my house on the afternoon before the night of the full moon. I heard someone drive up and come in downstairs, and I recognized her voice after she lightly knocked on my bedroom door.

"Alan? May I please come in?"

I felt bad about it but my anger still seethed, so I ignored her. Luckily, she took the hint and left without another word. If I let her in, I imagined we'd have a good cry together and I'd be back to my new, chatty self. I couldn't let that happen.

Sarah must have contacted her because I hadn't emailed her since I withdrew from the world. Liz had sent me messages recently but I ignored them. I went to school, came home and did my homework. That's all anyone would get out of me.

As dinner time rapidly approached, I considered leaving my sanctuary to eat. My stomach eagerly encouraged me and it was hard not to give in to its incessant gurgling. I contemplated going on a starvation diet, but that sounded more like something a girl would do. I was trying to avoid being a girl.

If I went downstairs and ate dinner, it might be worse. I looked outside frequently to check for the moon and saw Liz's car still parked out front. My mother, sister and the young witch undoubtedly waited for me so they could ambush me with their feminine ways. My brain would turn to mush in no time and I'd be one of them.

"Alan! Dinner time! Come down and eat!" my mother called, startling me out of my daydream.

I couldn't ignore her so I briefly unlocked and opened my door to shout down to her.

"I'm not hungry, and I'm going to bed early! Good night!"

An eerie silence followed my proclamation until my stomach basically called me a liar by gurgling.

"Shut up," I told it. "My other personality will probably get you something after the moon rises."

My words had no effect on my hunger. With a heavy sigh, I flopped back onto my bed and tried to muffle my stomach with a pillow. I spent the next 45 minutes or so like that until the moon rose and the pain made me black out.

***

I woke up long before my alarm, just as I had after the previous two full moons, and started the long slow process of getting up. It didn't help that my bed felt so nice and warm and comfortable. I'd do anything to stay in it.

As I laid there, stalling, I tried to remember past last night's intense pain but couldn't recall a thing. I stubbornly kept trying, staring up at the ceiling until a soft, fuzzy lump under my left arm got my attention. There, under the blanket, I saw my sister's favorite pink plushie.

"Hello Loopy," I mumbled, half awake. "What are you doing here? Are you lost? Poor little bunny."

I cuddled the little toy rabbit and giggled at my silliness until I realized that I'd regressed once again. I'd become more feminine than ever.

"You stay here and keep the bed warm," I told Loopy. "I have to get up and go to school."

I moved the little plushie's head up and down like it agreed with me. Then I tucked my blanket around it and looked at it for awhile. I imagined it quickly falling asleep and softly snoring, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought.

I'd been cursed with a love of fashion, excessive emotion and an appreciation of everything cute. Is that what girls are all about? Had I become a male girl? The thing that bothered me the most was that I didn't really feel any different. Had I always been feminine, deep down inside?

I crawled out of bed and carefully got dressed. No more throwing on clothes for me, I thought, while at the same time shaking my head. It wasn't like me to care so much about how I got dressed.

In spite of a mostly calm exterior, a severe inner conflict raged. Insanity beckoned and it was all I could do to keep from running through the house, screaming. The least little thing could've set me off, but luckily, nothing did.

Just before I left my room, I looked around. It seemed strangely quiet that morning and I realized my computer wasn't on. There were no notes or messages. The only thing out of the ordinary was waking up with Loopy. I couldn't remember the last time I slept with a plushie, but it didn't bother me at all.

I cautiously entered the bathroom and found my face free of makeup. So far, so good. I finished there and then bounced downstairs to find a deserted kitchen. In fact, the whole house was empty. I enjoyed a peaceful breakfast by myself, humming little tunes while I ate a bowl of cold cereal.

As I rinsed my empty bowl, suspicion crept up on me. Everything was too quiet, too perfect. It had to be the calm before the storm. I imagined some sort of intervention with Liz and my family forcing me to go to a hospital for a sex change operation. I left the house for my long walk to school and my inner conflict continued.

I got through the rest of that morning by letting my mind wander wherever it wanted. I pretended I had a girlfriend who produced all of the feminine thoughts, while I played the stereotypical male. I simply watched my date, humoring her indulgences to soften her up for some kissing and fondling later on.

Time actually passed rather quickly with my daydreaming, and the lunch bell surprised me. So did Sarah. She didn't show up. I ate alone and remained lost in thought.

My Physical Education class eventually interrupted my escape from reality, rudely reminding me that I was still a boy on the outside. The time had come to pound the floor with my feet while bouncing and throwing a large round ball around. Most people called it basketball but I called it hell. Basketball had to be one of my worst sports. I bounced enough on my own with my phantom boobs. I didn't need to do it with a ball.

Class started in the usual way, with me being picked last for a team and standing off to one side, trying not to get in anyone's way. Everything changed though when our opposing team got the ball. What remained of my inner boy compelled me to make a last desperate attempt to salvage some masculine pride. I actually got involved and used my virtual invisibility to intercept the ball. No one on either team expected it. They all stood with their mouths hanging open while I managed to clumsily make my way to our basket. I threw the ball up to make a lay-up and I scored. I actually scored!

Of course everyone knew it was a fluke. I scratched and clawed the rest of the game but I didn't score again. I had a moment of glory and returned to being the Amazing Clod Boy.

Receiving a liberal dose of insults actually helped me make it through the rest of the day at school. I regained some measure of emotional numbness, wearing it like armor to protect against the barrage of feminine thoughts.

I had one more class that I sailed through before school ended. Then I slowly made my way home. I walked slowly and carefully as usual and kept my thoughts tucked away. I hoped that staying on autopilot would allow me to get home safely.

Unfortunately, my mind began wandering once again. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself walking on the balls of my feet as if I was wearing high-heeled shoes. The first thought that occurred to me was that walking in high-heeled shoes wasn't so difficult. Immediately after that, my thoughts involved lots of profanity and embarrassment. I blushed and returned to my usual gait.

Just a little farther, I kept telling myself. I was only a few blocks from home. In 10 or 15 minutes, I'd be lying on my bed with my mind imprisoned in the tower of my imaginary ice castle. It was Friday so I'd have the whole weekend to get myself under control before I started another five days of torture.

I kept my eyes on the ground just in front of my feet so I didn't notice the cars parked in front of my house until I almost walked into them. Both cars looked very familiar and I shivered with dread. Bernice and Liz were visiting.

Making plans to sneak inside didn't help. Everyone had been watching for me from the house and they poured outside before I could even think of running. Liz took one of my arms and Bernice took the other.

"Hi Bernice," I said, thinking quickly to try an escape. "I haven't seen you for awhile. How about a hug?"

"Nice try, Alan, but I'm not letting go," she replied. "We can hug later."

The two women led me into the living room and kept a firm grip on me the whole time. When they sat on the couch, they forced me to sit down with them. There was no escape.

"Welcome home, Alan," my mother said. "We've all spent the day working very hard so please watch the television. We have a video to show you."

My father stood together with my mother in the dining room, and they both watched me closely, waiting to see how I'd react. It was unnerving, like being under a microscope. Their eyes held mine and I couldn't look away until motion caught my eye to break the spell.

I turned to see my sister kneel by the television set and feed a DVD into our DVD player. After a minute or so, the DVD player finished loading the disk and a video began playing.

The first image consisted of a light blue screen with black letters that read, "Alan's bedroom on Thursday, December 11, 2008, the night closest to the full moon. Full moon occurs at 8:38 A.M., Friday, December 12."

I next recognized my closed bedroom door and heard my sister's voice.

"Mom. Dad. Alan has a very strange and severe reaction to the full moon. You stand and watch from the doorway while I go in and video tape it."

Someone opened my door and I saw myself lying on my bed. My face contorted with pain and dripped with sweat. I looked horrible, but that's not what bothered me.

"Hey!" I shouted. "You broke into my bedroom!"

Sarah paused the DVD player.

"No," my father said calmly. "We used our master key ... the one we keep for emergencies ... and unlocked your door to help you. Now please keep watching the screen."

"Okay. Okay. I'm sorry."

The video resumed and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I couldn't believe what I saw next.

Random parts of my body pulsed and slowly changed shape. Muscles smoothed and what little facial hair I had seemed to get finer and shorter until I could no longer see any. My face became rounder with prominent cheekbones and a small, delicate chin. My hands still rested on the pillow that I'd used to cover my noisy stomach and I could see them getting shorter and more slender. Since I'd been wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, I didn't expect to see any more changes, but then two rounded mounds pushed out slightly on my chest. With the addition of breasts, the change appeared to be complete, and I saw a girl lying on my bed. She opened her eyes, slowly propped herself up on one elbow and looked towards the video camera.

"Hi Sarah," she said, smiling. "Did you make it in time to video tape everything?"

I heard my sister's voice answer, "Yes, and look who else is here to see you."

The girl looked to one side of the camera, suddenly noticing she had a larger audience. Her eyes widened a little and she spoke nervously.

"Hello Mother. Hello Father."

"Alan?" I heard my mother's voice say, followed quickly by my father's voice.

"Holy shit!" he yelled.

I started whimpering then and Sarah paused the DVD player to let me try to adjust to what I'd just seen. According to the video, I transformed into a girl by the light of a full moon. I was a weregirl!

"No!" I wailed. "It's not me! I'm not her! It can't be!"

Tears ran down my cheeks and all I could think about was getting out of that room, away from that shocking video. I couldn't watch any more. It destroyed my sense of self and I felt even worse than a freak. I felt ... broken. My fragile male ego shattered into millions of pieces and fell away, leaving me to drift slowly away into nothingness.

I slumped down on the couch and my crying got worse, causing my two guards to relax and cry along with me in sympathy. They also got sloppy. They loosened their grip, and I noticed.

Before anyone could react, I launched myself from the couch, pulling free from Bernice and Liz. I ran upstairs to my sanctuary. I had to escape at all cost. My family and friends shouted after me but they were too slow to stop me.

I slammed my door shut and flopped on my bed. I tried lying on my stomach but my phantom boobs bothered me too much so I rolled over into a fetal position. Then I waited for the inevitable visit. I knew I wouldn't be left alone in my current state.

I wondered who it would be. Who would draw the short straw and have to console me? Whoever it would be would have their hands full, but some part of me hoped they'd be successful. I couldn't go on living like I had for much longer.

Luckily, it wasn't very long before someone knocked on my door.

"Alan? It's Liz. May I please come in?"

"Why don't you use the master key and barge in?" I replied sarcastically.

"I don't want to come in uninvited, Alan. Please?"

"It's unlocked. Do what you want."

Liz came in and sat on the edge of my bed. She lightly placed a hand on my side and I flinched, but I let her keep it there. It felt mildly reassuring.

"I'm very sorry about all this," she said. "I know it seemed cruel to force you to watch that video but you should know that it was really your idea."

"Huh?"

"Well ... I mean it was Allie's idea. She's the girl you become, the girl you truly are inside."

"What?"

"Search your feelings, Alan. You know it's true. You created a thin facade to match your male body. Allie is trapped inside you, and she's desperate to come out. It's obvious to me now."

I just grunted. I didn't know what to say to that.

"You remember those questions I asked when we first met? Most of your answers were very feminine. Everything about you tends to match your phantom body. I think you've denied your true self so strongly that something inside you snapped and started you down this path."

"That's stupid. I'm a boy."

"On the outside, but not inside where it counts."

She knelt down and looked deep into my eyes. I could feel her sweet breath on my face and I could sense her compassion and concern, radiating out to warm my heart. It was so nice, but then I felt something else forcing its way back, something all too familiar. The darkness returned and I finally recognized it. After denying my feelings and true nature for so long, I finally had a label for my underlying problem.

"I'm scared," I told her. "I'm really, really scared."

"I know it's scary but you have to let go. You have to free your inner girl before the denial kills you. Please Alan. Let go. Let go and live."

"I can't!" I cried. "It's too hard. Please. Help me."

"There, there, Young One. I'll help you," she said softly. "Let my love set you free."

She moved forward and surprised me with a kiss. She kissed me with a passion I imagined was only reserved for lovers, and it briefly made me wonder if I was dreaming. My hesitation didn't last long though. I began to kiss back, and as I did, I felt my male facade slowly slip away. The last traces disappeared just before an intense pain hit and caused me to black out.

***

"Allie? Wake up. Wake up, Allie."

I heard Liz's voice and felt her gently shaking me. I opened my eyes and she smiled down on me.

"Oh!" I gasped. "He's gone. Alan is gone! I still have all his memories but I don't feel him inside me any more."

"Interesting," said Liz. "I suspected that would happen."

"Oh Lizzy! It was so awful!" I cried. "I hated being a boy!"

Liz bent over and hugged me on my bed while she whispered soothing sounds in my ear.

"There, there, my Love. Everything's going to be okay. I don't think Alan will be coming back."

She kissed me lightly on the lips and pulled back before I was ready to end it. I pouted, trying to get more but she smiled and shook her head.

"Not yet, my Sweet. You're still too young."

"But we're only seven years apart," I whined. "Why can't we be together?"

"Seven years is too great a difference for most people to accept for someone as young as you. Wait until after you start college. Then we'll do more than talk," she said with a wink.

I folded my arms and frowned, but nothing I could do would change her mind. Even for the few hours we chatted during the last full moon, we knew we were soul mates. Still, she insisted we wait. It drove me crazy.

"That doesn't mean we can't do things together," she added. "All great relationships are built on a foundation of friendship. We can be the best of friends. You'll just have to be patient."

And patient I was.

***

Life improved drastically after I became a girl. It became a bed of roses. Sure, I got stuck by a thorn now and then, but the sweet scent and beauty of the roses more than compensated for any hardships.

A year after I graduated from high school, Liz and I became a couple, and we dated for two years. We were handfasted three months ago and have lived together in her little gray house ever since. I've helped her tend to her herb garden and she's taught me about witchcraft. It's been a sweet, happy life and I wouldn't have traded it for anything.

I'm currently a senior in college studying Astronomy, and I go by Allison, or Allie to my family and friends. Every full moon I look up and thank my lucky stars that I found Liz. Without her, I'd still be suffering in the wrong body, and I might never have experienced the love she's shown me. I'll never again deny the power of love or the beauty of my feminine spirit.

*** The End ***