Lilith Langtree’s – Chaos Magic

TG Fiction – Nothing is True and Everything is Permitted

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A Full Stories Update. On Everything.


July 10th, 2010 Posted 15:37

Finished stories:

1. A Girl Like Mom Used to Be

2. Samplings of the Population

3. Terra: Between a Rock and… Another Rock

4. To Dream the American Dream

5. FQ: For Life

6. FQ: The Consequences of Earth Magic

7. The Poseidon Adventure

8. Ares Bane

9. The Thorn in Ares Side: Cassandra

10. Indistinguishable

11. It Was Fate

12. Life Is Hard Then You Nap

13. My Hero

14. Passion and Purpose

15. Passion and Purpose 2: Unexpected Things

16. I Am Like Water

17. The Calm of My Stream: Tales of Cho-Ri

18. The Center

19. The Exception to the Rule

Unfinished – Not Abandoned                                 Progress

1.  Either Do it Right…                                                    Stalled

2. Royalty Consists Not in Vain Pomp                          Rewrite of chapter 3

3. Sangria: Where the Rubber Meets the Road            75% complete

4. What Transpires at Night                                          Stalled

5.  A Paradise of Fools Conclusion                                 33% Complete

Stalled means that I don’t want to write anymore until I get inspired to do so. If I write more just so that can may post something for you to read, it will be crap. I don’t post crap… or I try not to anyway. 🙂

Projects in the works: (Other than those posted above)

Cho-Ri 3 – A Christmas Story

FQ3 – The exposure of the Faeries

FQ4- The Finale Crossover

Comic Retcon’s: Thor.

Comic Retcon: A second story arc with Mercury, Domino, Venom, one other undecided.

Passion and Purpose 3: The wedding.

By Fire and Sword: Buffy TG Fic

Twisted: Birds of Prey

Center 2: Six Months Later

First Daughter: The Adopted TG  Daughter of the President

Pixie: A TG Veronica Mars

Resurrection: Monster Hunting

This is the way it works behind the scenes. Every day I get up and peruse the list of ToDo’s and decide on what inspires me, then I work on it. It’s that simple. That’s why I have such a big ToDo list, so I’ll always be working on something. As you can tell from the large Completed Fics List, I have a fairly good track record for finishing stories that I have let sit for a while. I have not abandoned anything, nor do I intend to.

The only way to get me to work on something exclusively is to pay me. I do this for free and it takes up A LOT of my time. I do this because I love to write, so it’s not a chore and I’m not bitching about all the work I have to do. I’m just saying you get what you pay for. So, please don’t comment about current stories like this: “I like this story, but I’d really like to see you update “Insert story title here” because that’s better.”

It’s basically saying this to me: “I really wish you’d quit writing other crap and concentrate only on what I want, because you’re really annoying me by doing so, and the story you just posted isn’t worth me actually commenting on. Sorry you went through all that work for nothing.”

It’s kind of insulting. Just sayin’

Thank you for your attention.


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1 Comment »

July 6th, 2010 Posted 22:42

Just Ugh. Nerves. People. On. Them. ARGH!

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Story Info


June 29th, 2010 Posted 18:06

Today at BCTS I posted the beginnings of a Comic retcon, the first of which was “Samplings of the Population,” a Green Lantern (DC Comics) TG Retcon.

The next one will be Terra from the DC Comic’s Power Girl. She’s her sidekick, but in this story she’s her own girl. Terra

I think I’m going more mainline with some bigger names. Not Superman or anything that big. I’ve already  I’ll have to look. I’m not limiting myself to DC for this universe either. Wildstorm, Marvel, etc. I’m having some fun with this so I’ll run with it for now. Let me know if you have a favorite Comic character you want TG’d and I’ll see what I can do. I already did an Amazon story so no Wonder Woman. Cassandra was going to be a Wonder Girl story for this universe, but she wasn’t going to be a Amazon. I decided to use her in Ares Bane instead.

Ninja Edit: I’ve decided to go with Captain America next but it will be “American Dream” instead and to mix it up even further I’m using Stargirl’s Pic.


Also the sequel to The Center is going well. A little dry at the moment since its the first chapter and I don’t want to do the same thing I did last time. I’m looking at a totally new plot. So, we’ll see if that works.

Cassandra is less than 1000 words from finished. I just have to finish the final scene and it will be up.

Those are the ones I’m currently working on.



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Stories Update.

Comments Off on Stories Update.

June 18th, 2010 Posted 12:21

Center 9 – Finished

Retcon of DC Superhero stories:

Green Lantern: Jade – 4309 Finished awaiting conclusion of Terra for release.

Terra (Power Girl’s sidekick) – 19314 out of 25000 words

I have others but they’re still in limbo right now. Everything else is where it was at at the last update. Nothing’s changed.

My yearly summer visit from relatives begins tomorrow. Usually there’s not much writing going on during that time, so I’ll probably be somewhat quiet until I get something else out.

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And now for something completely different


June 4th, 2010 Posted 17:38

Just a little oil slick humor since it’s semi capped.


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Mirror (Another Abandoned story idea)


June 2nd, 2010 Posted 19:59

Another abandoned story that I wanted to get out of my head. This is just the setup and is ripe for someone to take it if they wanted. I really liked the idea and still do, but I know I will probably never get around to finishing it, because I have 3-4 others that I have been steadily adding on to for the last two months.

The working title was Mirror, hence the quote immediately following this sentence.

This is who I pictured as what he would look like after the operation.


And this is the photo that his partner refers to during her sales pitch.


Man has only one escape from his old self: to see a different self in the mirror of some woman’s eyes.


Seventeen months, three days, fourteen hours.


There was only three days left until mandatory retirement forced me out of the FBI and into a small mountain cabin far away from the city where I’d grown up. Three days until I’d turn in my badge that I’d held for forty-two years. Three days until I’d turn in my final evaluation of my newest partner, my replacement, Rachel Kinjo.

Female, twenty-five years old, of Japanese decent, Okinawan, I think. Five-five, 32-23-34, if I was a decent judge in spatial measurements. Since I’d been doing this kind of thing for most of my life, I think I was. She had long black hair she kept in a ponytail most of the time. In short, if I was forty years younger, I would have been all over her.

Too many things had changed over the years though. Now women thought for themselves and they weren’t afraid to let you know that either. I was old enough to remember when the first female field agent drew her sidearm in the line of duty. There was a time when she would have been happy to have my attention, welcomed it, done pretty much anything I’d want her to, submissive. Now she was on point while we were chasing down my last serial killer. Things had definitely changed.

Arthritis in my knees made me wince with every step. My palm was sweaty as I held the Sig-Sauer 223 loosely in my left hand, hoping that I could end my career with a bang, so to speak. With Kinjo in the lead, odds are that this would be her third takedown in as many months.

We had reached a part of the city that I knew very well. The temptation to rein her enthusiasm in was great, but knowing that she would be on her own in a short time quelled the protest I’d had on my lips.

When we’d approached a blind alley that I had a strong suspicion our suspect would take, I noticed a passing car and the look of shock on the driver’s face as he peered down that very same alley, I knew it was almost too late. The suspect was laying in wait, and Kinjo was half a second away from making the deadliest mistake of her life. Before saying something that would alert the suspect, I reached out with my right hand and grabbed the collar on Kinjo’s jacket, jerking her backward.

Her yelp is what gave us away.

I tossed Kinjo behind me and saw movement out of the corner of my eye. The Sig Sauer raised and as I suspected, our suspect gave himself away, coming out from behind the corner shooting. In the span of a single second, I tracked the trajectory of his movement and saw that Kinjo was his first target.

Jumping in front of her would mean that I would take a bullet, but that she’d be safe. I only prayed that I would live to see the next day and perhaps my vest would take the hit instead of any vital organ.

The first shot from my Sig took him dead center in the chest, the second, the center of his heart.

Kinjo’s hit me in the upper spine.

The after action report detailed it as neither her fault nor mine. Accidents happen and that is why we train the way we do. She thought she was saving me by taking the suspect down and I’d gotten in the way, spoiling her shot. Technically, she should have deferred to me since I was at point at the time, but partners don’t point the finger like that.

Any way you look at the situation, she was never the same afterward. Neither was I.

After seven surgeries, I couldn’t move anything below the neck, and spent the last seventeen months, three days, and fourteen hours in an assisted living home. The room itself was pretty nice, decorated like a mix of my bedroom and living room back home. The rest of my house and belongings were sold off at my request. I’d never use them again.

Instead I spent most days watching television, or even helping out the FBI’s Violent Crimes Task Force with independent reviews of their cases. It kept my mind busy, which was supposed to be an important thing for people that lay in bed all day.

By the time I’d woken up before the second operation, I’d already been officially retired. Helping out the VCTF was the FBI’s way of taking care of their own. It kept money coming in, above and beyond my government pension, in the form of contract work. The medical bills were paid, since I was on the job at the time, and disability insurance took care of the group home I was stuck in. Everything else was me.

In between cases is what dragged me down. I’d fantasized about fishing or hunting big bear, kicking my feet up in front of the fireplace, and sipping at single malt scotch until the end of days. But my biggest fantasy, still, after three years, was nailing Rachel Kinjo.

Just because I couldn’t get it up anymore didn’t mean an old man can’t think about how she would sound on all fours atop the bearskin rug in front of that fireplace while I put it to her from behind. It had been like that from day one. Of course, in my fantasies, I was forty years younger and able to last most of the night.

It may seem weird that I still want to hear her scream my name, after she’d shot me, putting me in the bed I live my life in, but what can I say, I’m a guy. Shoot me… wait, too late.

“Knock Knock.” Speak of the temptress.

I swiveled my head a little to the side and saw Rachel as she smiled at me with the same hurt look in her eyes that had been present every time she visited.

“Rach,” I said with a silly grin. “Don’t you have anything else better to do than to visit me? Go out, get laid, for god sake.”

Every week, three times a week since my arrival, my little angel of mercy visited. After setting her purse down on one of the chairs that I never use, she crossed the floor and looked at me. Her hand came up and smoothed my hair then she kissed my forehead.

“My sex life is none of your business, John.”

I groaned just a little. “Come on, gimmie just a little glimpse. Got yourself a new boyfriend yet?”

She gave me half lidded eyes that are sexy as hell. “Nope.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “Girlfriend?”

Her index finger, with a carefully manicured nail pointed at me. “If you don’t behave then I’ll have to take your present and head on out.”

“Presents? Oh shit, is it my birthday already?”

She turned and made sure the door was secure. “You’re getting funnier every day, John. Keep practicing though.”

From her purse, she’d withdrew a silver flask. My grin got wider. “Aww, you shouldn’t have.”

Pausing, like she was having second thoughts, she displayed her gift. “I really shouldn’t. The nurses don’t like it when you have whiskey breath.”

Fuck the nurses. “Come on, give up the goods lady and I’ll be your slave.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. And let me sniff the contents. Ahhh, mother’s milk. After two sips, I was almost content.

“You’re the best, Rach.”

The flask went into the back pocket of her skin tight jeans. Oh, to be that flask right then, caressing that perfect little derrière.

“You still good on your magazines? Did you want me to bring a book next time I’m in?”

I sighed. “Rachel, you don’t have to keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” she said as she straightened out the bed sheet over my chest.

“Visiting me. You’re young. You should be out having the time of your life, not tittering around here bringing me scotch and wasting your time watching me die.”

She flinched at that. We’d had this argument before. I’d insist that she get on with her life and she’d insist that it was the way she was raised. She felt responsible for me. I understood. I mean she had shot me after all. But there was a point where you slow your visits to once a week, then once every two weeks, making excuses about work or a broken down car, until eventually you stop coming except for birthday’s and Christmas. It was the American way. Old people are like church. You feel obligated to be there, but it doesn’t take much to find a reason not to be.

The thing was, that this time Rachel didn’t argue with me.

“John, do you know what a shame society is?”

I shrugged a little, which is an accomplishment when you can only move your head. “I can take an educated guess.”

She took a hold of my hand. Even though I couldn’t feel anything, it made her a little calmer.

“I’m first generation American-Japanese.”

“I know, you’ve told me this before.”

She ignored my interruption. “My family raised me in the traditions of my culture, and they are very traditional. Where Americans are guilt and punishment based in their beliefs, traditional Japanese are a shame society.”

Sometimes it takes her eons to come to the point. “What are you getting at Rach?”

She pursed her lips briefly before looking down. “When I shot you, I brought shame to myself and to my family.”

I rolled my eyes. “Haven’t we had this conversation before? It was an accident.”

She shook her head. “It was carelessness.”

“Rach, what’s done is done. We can’t turn back time, so the best thing is to let it go and move on. I’m pretty happy helping out the VCTF. I’m still productive. I’m just doing it from bed instead of being out on the street.”

Once I’d came to the end of my little speech she still stood there not looking at me. Oh brother. “Okay fine. What can you do to not be shamed anymore?”

Her eyes flicked up to me. “There’s not much. Seppuku is acceptable, but outdated, or if you are willing restitution in the form of the act itself.”

She lost me there. “What? Like have you shot too and sharing a bed?”

She nodded. “Or restoring your life better than it was before.”

I blinked. “Poof! And then we woke up. If there was a way to fix what was wrong, don’t you think I would have come across it by now?”

With a perfectly straight face, she looked me in the eye again. “I may have a way to give you your freedom again, John. It would be better than before in certain ways, but different, unlike anything that you have experienced before.”

I was totally lost. “Are you talking about another operation? I told you before that I’m done with…”

She shook her head. “No, it has to do with a case I’m working.”

Since the incident that led me to my current situation, Rachel had quit the FBI and taken up private investigating. The work consisted of chasing around cheating spouses, but on occasion she would come across something interesting.

At first I thought she was joking with me, but the look on her face told me she was deadly serious. “What are we talking about here?”

She took a breath and then set my hand back down. “I need you to answer a question for me, first.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“Hypothetically, if you could have forty years of your life back, be young and have your whole life ahead of you, but the one condition would be that you would have to be female, would you want it?”

I started to smile like she was jerking me around, but her face didn’t even twitch. “You’re serious.”

She nodded. “Would you, John? Be a girl, I mean, if it meant that you could start over.”

Wishing that I had some sort of mental telepathy thing going for me, I stared at her. “What exactly is this thing you’re working on?”

She shook her head. “I can’t say, client confidentiality.”

“Oh, bullshit, Rachel. This is me that you’re talking to. Who am I gonna tell, Nurse Ratchet out there?”

Her resolve face settled and I knew that I wouldn’t get another word out of her until I answered. I gave her a look of annoyance, but sussed it out for her after a few questions.

“Young? Not a teenager or anything? I couldn’t deal with puberty again.”

That brought a small grin to her glossed lips. “No, mid-twenties. Perfect health, no issues there.”

I pondered it for a moment. “A chick, huh?” She nodded. Well, like I’d said before, it was a different world than what I grew up with. Women were like men, with boobs nowadays. They pretty much wore the same clothes, worked the same jobs, lived the same way. There were differences to be sure, but I could live with those, hypothetically of course.

“Would I have to date guys?”

She blinked at me and then almost laughed. “Uh, I guess, if you wanted to. That would be up to you.”

“Nah, I’m a ladies man through and through.”

Now she was grinning again. It was the first time I had seen an actual smile on her face in months. “You should smile more often. Your face is too pretty to be frowning all the time.”

Ignoring my compliment, she went back to her purse and retrieved a flash drive. “May I show you something on your computer?”

I looked to the side at my laptop. “Help yourself. Just hit Control Shift F7 to take it off my control.”

She swiveled it around for better access and after inserting the drive in the proper port, started clicking away with her fingernails. How someone could type with nails like that was beyond me. They weren’t dragon-ladies or anything, but they stood out, red and glossy.

When she was done, she turned it back around at me. Schematics were all over the screen. “What’s this?”

She smiled at me. “This is the case I was working on. Industrial espionage. A rival techware company brought me in to retrieve something that had been stolen recently and destroy anything that the competition had been working on.

I blinked at her. “Destroy?”

She nodded. “John, I’ve turned my life upside down trying to come up with a way to help you. I may not have gone about it in a entirely moral way, but I’ve found something. Now, are we going to argue the ethics of it or are we going to have you on your feet by the end of the week?”

If I was hooked up to one of those bleep bleep heart monitor things it would probably be bouncing all over the place. “Are you serious?”


My throat had become severely dry. “Can I have some more hooch?”

After retrieving the flask that was nicely warmed by her left butt cheek I sipped a couple more times and relished the slight burning in my throat as I replayed what she was telling me. “You were serious about the girl thing.”

Rachel nodded and tapped a couple more times at the keyboard. A picture of a woman wearing a white coat, pants and shirt, popped up. It was a crime scene photo, I assumed since she was holding a gun and looked kind of dead. The thing was that the girl was a dead ringer for Rachel. Before I was able to question the resemblance she beat me to the punch.

“A cousin of mine. Third cousin twice removed, I think.”

“Is she…”

“Sort of. The company I’m representing is based in Japan and the rival corporation is here in the city. That’s why they contacted me.”


Rachel glance at the closed door once more. “A branch of my family is Yakuza.”

That got my attention. “What?”

She shrugged.

“How did you that get past the background check?”

FBI history checks are notorious. They research everything and everyone that has anything to do with prospective agents. One just doesn’t waltz into the Hoover Building and get hired on the spot if they are relations to organized crime.

“It was one of the reasons that they wanted me. I spent my first two years out of the academy, undercover in New York bringing down some of the more brutal families that set up shop there.” She waved it off. “That’s beside the point. I was contacted by an uncle that knew I used to be with the Bureau. The family tracked me down and if I was able to secure this information and destroy any copies and work the thieves had, then I could use it. They know about you John. It’s how they knew I would cooperate.” She swallowed. “They know that my family is shamed by my actions that put you here and that I would do almost anything to reclaim my honor.”

I started to reiterate my previous arguments but she cut me off. “John, you are not Japanese. Don’t try to understand what it means to be shamed.”

Resigned to grumbling to myself, I looked back at the picture on the screen. “What’s she got to do with this?”

“Three months ago she was shot with a paralyzing agent that prevented her from even so much as breathing. By the time the yakuza were able to retrieve her body, she lapsed into a coma.”

I shrugged to the screen. “This isn’t a crime scene photo?”

She shook her head. “No. This specific yakuza family is very particular about the way they do things. If one of theirs is killed then they revenge themselves the exact same way, same place, with an equal level member of whoever did the deed. Very eye for an eye type people.”

“So she’s alive but in a coma.”

“Yes. And the most important part, she’s brain dead.”

My eyes darted to hers as I made the connections. “What exactly does the machine that those schematics belong to actually do?”

Rachel clicked a few buttons and another picture came up. I was about to say it was Rachel again, but with foreknowledge I could see slight  differences. “In three days time, this will be your new face.”


The minty taste of the breath freshener, Rachel used on me to disguise the scotch, hadn’t worn off. And I could not stop looking at the girl in the picture displayed on my computer screen. The upturn of her upper lip was different than Rachel’s, though the prominent cheekbones were exactly the same. Perhaps it was a genetic thing in her family. To me, she was gorgeous, but I’d always had a thing for Asian girls. Now there was a distinct possibility that I would be one. It was all a little too science fiction for me. Where I grew up, Heinlein was the end all beat all of the genre. I recalled a book I’d read as a young man, well, the subject of the book, not necessarily the title, where a very rich man had his brain transplanted into a young woman. He then fell in love with his best friend/lawyer and they married.

Now, here I was an old man and someone just told me that I could have my mind transferred into the body of a young woman. While it wouldn’t be my actual brain, I hadn’t dismissed the similarities between the two.

It all became very real to me.

I was amazed at the advances that experimental science had grown. Just a few decades ago this was fiction, now it was reality; a reality that, with each passing minutes, I was becoming increasingly scared of.

I’ve faced hardened criminals, insane murderers, face to face, with little more than frayed nerves, but the thought of losing my masculinity was terrifying to me. In my current physical situation I was next to useless. While I still helped out with the VCTF, I was little more than an armchair quarterback offering advice that there were review panels for in the first place. My thoughts ran to family, friends, old lovers; what would they think of me?

Intellectually, the choice wasn’t even an issue. In my current body, I would never walk, never feel the sunshine on my body, never be able to feel the touch of another woman ever again. It was all a trade, the good with the bad. Emotionally, while it wasn’t the worst thing imaginable, it was pretty darn close. I’d never be strong again, never again be able to put the bad guy down with a single punch.

Oh hell, what would happen to my career? I’d been with the Bureau since I’d graduated college. I didn’t know how to do anything else. With the intake of a cleansing breath I calmed my thoughts and realized that I would be young again. I’d have time to reinvent myself if I wanted. Or I could… damn it all to hell! I’d be related to Rachel! Well there went that sexual fantasy all to hell.

I let loose a small growl, twins and everything too. That would have been hot.

Ending point

I’d planned on having the two work their way back to America while she worked on becoming comfortable with herself, becoming a private investigator as well, and having a mix up with the yakuza somewhere along the line.

Poof. I know I suck.

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New story idea. Here’s the Intro.


May 28th, 2010 Posted 20:54

Potty-mouth warning.


I had nothing left to lose. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

The fire that burned eternal in hell had absolutely nothing on the fire of creation. That infinitesimal moment, at the beginning of all that was, when God pointed his omnipotent finger at the void and uttered his words of creation. The phrase wasn’t ‘Let there be light,’ it was, ‘Fuck it, I’ve got nothing else better to do.’

It was that same fire that created the universe that was shoved through me. It wasn’t without cost. I would pay for my escape from my own personal hell, a place where I shouldn’t have been to begin with.

Being resurrected is a tricky thing. It doesn’t really happen all that often. Last time I remember someone actually leaving the mortal plane and returning was a little over two thousand years ago and that was with more than a little assistance from the guy upstairs. The reason everyone and their brother isn’t popping back and forth is because it takes a lot of power. You haven’t heard much from God since then, have you. Two thousand years is to him is like a weekend at Club Med, not enough to really recharge the batteries, but you could still get it up long enough to fuck the chick you picked up earlier when you were lounging on the beach.

There are turning points in history that some of the eternals are able to see, eternals being the god-crowd.

The thing is, they need representatives on Earth. Jesus, is God’s main guy. He’s still around, but he goes by Jesus instead. That’s (Hey-Zeus) for those of you that don’t speak Mexican. He runs a goat-taco stand in Chihuahua. Nastiest things I’ve ever eaten. The man can’t cook to save his life, but can he conjure up a barrel of the best red wine on the continent.

Lucifer’s boy is over in the Middle East at the moment, fucking around in the mountains of Pakistan. Jerk-off.  He was a nobody devil-worshiper resurrected around the mid-thirteen hundreds and had been partying ever since. His original birthday bash was one for the record books; remember the Black Plague?

Me? I’ve only been around about two years. When I died I was a devout Catholic. I said my prayers, went to confession weekly, fed the plate more than I had to when it came around, I was even given last fucking rites by a priest before I bit into the cherry tomato of death. Know what I got for it?

The fucking bureaucratic red tape of limbo.

Everyone goes there after they die, no matter what religion you subscribe to. You wait, and then wait some more. Then after a good long wait, you wait again. You stand around for so fucking long you start cursing anyone and anything you can think of. That used up all my brownie points I acquired on Earth, but it wasn’t quite enough to send me to Hell. So there I was, stuck in nowhere. That was until the Ouroboros came for me.

He, or she, I wasn’t really clear on the whole gender then where the Big O is concerned, told me that I was screwed. Even if I hadn’t cursed God and all his slack-dick angels I’d still be there for half of eternity. I could go to Hell if I wanted. They’d love the chance to have them some holy roller meat to corn-hole every conceivable chance they could. Or I could be His/Her representative on Earth. It was time to even the score a little between his cousins, see?

Ouroboros hangs around the ether, jacking off to succubus porn or something equally as senseless, and for a dragon-snake the size of the North American continent with no visible hands that’s quite a talent. He comes to me and says, ‘Drake, you’re my kind of guy.’ Of course, I hadn’t talked to anyone in close to ten years, so I was licking up any conversation with a spoon.

‘Be my rep,’ he says. ‘And you’ll have real power.’

I’m all uh-huh uh-huh.

All I have to do is keep the balance.

That’s what the Big O is all about, the balance. God had the good, Lucifer the bad and Big O the mid-ground.

See, here’s the thing. Ole Hey-Zeus could give a crap about the good. He got staked to a giant piece of wood two thousand years ago and has had an attitude ever since. He says he was suppose to come back, walk on some water, do a little time, and in a couple of years go to his eternal reward. Dumbass didn’t check the fine print. A couple of years to a thing that exists in all times at once is eternity.

So Hey-Zeus said, ‘Fuck it, I’m buying a goat-taco stand in Mexico, work your own shit out.’

He was around long enough to start his own religion, maybe you’ve heard about it. Then he bailed.

So the only thing good happening in the world is solely done by its mortal inhabitants. In other words the world is fucked.

Lucifer’s boy is all about the evil. He lives for the shit and never gets bored. So it’s up to me to put out the fires and keep the balance.

Oh, you want to know the seriously fucked up thing? Big O is all about balance, right? Well it turns out that I was a nice rich guy in New York when I got accidentally shot in a drive by. Big O says that I have to live my next life (i.e. this one) as something opposite in order to keep the balance. I figure I’ll probably be Black or Mexican, or maybe even Oriental.  Nope, I’m a fucking girl.

Oh yeah, that was hoot and a half, waking up to that shit.

Contrary to what’s in the Bible, you don’t get your own body back. You have to take the body of a person that is on the precipice of death, one that is taking in its last breath. Then its you that is exhaling. Except the body I was thrown in was being choked to death by some perverted fuck as he was banging a fetish hooker. He went too far and killed her.

So, there I am. Newly sucked out of Limbo and dropped into a two-hundred dollar a fuck whore in New York. An extra two hundred and you could choke her as you emptied your spooge inside.

By this time I was seriously pissed off and let the guy have it across the jaw.

Us Resurrects have well above average strength and we can’t be killed in conventional ways. This basically means that I snapped the guy’s neck with the punch.

Well that was my first good deed for the evening to even up the balance.

So, grab three fingers of your favorite rotgut and kick back while I figure out how to squeeze down two years of my new life as a Resurrect into a story that even those Hollywood limp-dicks couldn’t conceive of.


Okay, there is it. I wanted to create a character that would offend just about every person in existence.  An anti-hero for lack of a better term.  Interested?


Posted in Uncategorized

The Assistant (Last Unfinished story, for now)


May 13th, 2010 Posted 14:57

Okay… this story was an experiment. I wanted to try to write an erotic story at first since it had been so long since I had actually written anything along those lines. I wanted it to be something classy and not the usual wack-along one would find at FM or Storysite. I wanted to push the edges of that boundary as close as I could and still be proud of what I wrote. I think its advisable to give you a warning as to the content, so as to not go running for the hills at the first sign of the topic.

It’s about a regular guy who finds out that one of his old friends from high school is into the fetish scene, slavery to be specific. Don’t worry, it isn’t explicit (no whipping, beating, degradation, etc.) He gets his friend out of the scene, but has to deal with how screwed up her mind is at the time, while dealing with his own attractions. It was supposed to be about finding middle ground and acceptance, about helping her become a real person again, but… well, I reached a point and felt disgusted with myself for the direction it was going. I think you’ll see what I mean when you reach the end.

There wasn’t really that much more to the story after that point… a years later scene, with them married and being a healthy couple. Ugh. The story would probably be a candidate for the Romance contest at BCTS, but … I don’t know. Judge for yourself. Again, this is a discarded, unfinished story, but not by much, so you should feel a sense of finality at the end.

A last word of warning. There is a little sex in this, but I’ve read much harder stuff from books I’ve bought at Wal-mart.


I blame my editor. It’s all her fault. Well, not entirely all her fault. It was my stupid brain that came to a complete standstill a third of the way into my latest novel. Is it a shortcoming that I don’t have a totally deviant mind? No, it’s not. I was raised a somewhat moral child. Like any other teenaged male I checked out the girls in school, had perverted fantasies about the six senior cheerleaders and me alone in locker room… normal stuff. So why in heaven’s name was I at a slave auction?


Don’t worry, it’s not for real. There’s a charity involved somewhere along the perverted line. That was the plot for my story. Oh, I’m being stupid; my name is Christopher Jonns and I write under the pseudonym Trevor St. John, author of a popular series of detective books. Except I’m not writing anything at the moment due to a considerable lack of experience in the more seedier side of society.

The last manuscript I sent to my editor was promptly sent back. The accompanying phone call wasn’t pleasant. It lacked reality in a certain area and thus here I am, experiencing reality. Maggie, my editor, set the whole thing up. By contacting a friend of hers in the city, I was the recipient of one invitation to a local bondage club where I was supposed to purchase a ‘slave’ for a week of service.

I could almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach.

If there was one thing I was adamantly against, it was slavery of any sort. Well, that and a thousand other things, but we’re on this topic at the moment.

Everything was for charity and since it was for work, in my case, it was almost all tax deductible through the agency.  So, there was absolutely no reason I could say no. Yeah, I argued the whole ‘having someone in my house that I didn’t know’ angle, but it was shot down.

Maggie dropped off a box load of, how should I say this, equipment. Said equipment would ensure that I wouldn’t be killed in my sleep, and if I felt adamantly against having someone stay in my house then I could release the victim cum volunteer that same night.

My idea? I would purchase this slave, take her home, interview her about the lifestyle, so I could incorporate it into the story and then let her go.

It’s all barbaric sounding, isn’t it? How could you keep all the perverted serial killers out there away from something like this event. It screamed ‘free victims’. That’s another thing. It’s a private party. Everyone knew who everyone else was, or they were vouched for, in my case. Either way, being a newbie in the scene, I had to bring three forms of identification just to get through the door. It was all scanned, nice and neat at the front desk.

“A guest of Maggie Fairmount?” the mid thirties blonde girl behind the counter asked. “How is Mags?”

I scowled. “A pain in my butt.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “She said you’d say that.” Holding up a finger, she bent down under the counter and retrieved a silver hoop about seven or eight inches in diameter. There was a piece of metal hanging from it with something inscribed which I couldn’t read at the moment. “She also said that you wouldn’t think to bring a collar and I was to give this to you. You can’t leave with an uncollared slave.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re joking.” Taking the metal collar in hand I read the hanging tag. Owned by Master Christopher. “You’re not joking.”

“Here’s your bidding pad.” She handed over what looked like a palm pilot. “You’ll find the slaves up for auction are wearing white collars with a PIN number on the tag. Enter the PIN number into your pad and then whatever it is you want to bid. It updates automatically.”

I reluctantly nodded.

“Did you bring anything to change into sweetie?”

I glanced back up to her. “Uh, no. Coat and tie isn’t enough?”

She looked at me like I wasn’t serious, for a second, before laughing. “Oh, they’re going to love you in there.”


Love wasn’t the word I would have used. The interior of the private club was something from the turn of the century, the twentieth, not the twenty-first. A gentleman’s club was brought to mind. The furniture, a dark cherry wood; the armchairs and couches, deep red leather, plush and well worn. The one thing that stood out more than anything else were the occupants.

Leather, latex, and PVC was the theme of dress. I should had known from my research into the lifestyle that wearing a coat and tie to such an event would be considered a faux pas. As was quickly coming to the conclusion that I should hide myself in a secluded corner somewhere, I was approached by a black-haired vision of loveliness holding a tray in her hand.

“Sir, would you like a refreshment from the bar?”

She didn’t look me in the eye, instead she seemed to be focusing on my nose. “Um, yeah. Single malt scotch, neat.”

“Sir, as you please.” She curtsied and spun away.

Her dress matched the deep red of the chairs and couches. It was shiny, but not overly tight across her body. PVC. While I wasn’t one for ogling girls beyond the casual glance of appreciation, I followed her bare legs with my eyes. How in the world could she walk around in heels that high, I had no idea. I had trouble walking properly in cowboy boots on those rare occasions that I was dragged away to some themed party or whatnot that Maggie had arranged for me.

Such is the life of a popular author. I don’t know how many times I had to whore myself out to the general public in order to sell my books. With a sigh I cleared the thought from my head and set about scanning the decent sized crowd.

By using simple deduction, there were three types of people present. The better dressed ones, those who’s outfits looked like they cost several hundred if not thousands of dollars were the owners and buyers. The ones trailing behind or at their knee were their current slaves or submissives for the evening. And the ones walking around, occasionally being manhandled and stared, not to mention sporting the white collars, were the slaves up for auction.

It was enough to drive a rational-minded man to drink.

“Sir, your beverage.”

I turned to see the server had returned. Sitting atop her tray was a glass with two fingers of a nice brown liquid. I sipped at it, experimentally. There’s no tell what brand of liquor they served. Most people wouldn’t know a decent single malt from a blended. I was pleasantly surprised.

“Thank you.”

She curtsied. “Sir, you are welcome. If it pleases you, Sir, I have been assigned to act as your guide for this evening. If you have any questions about proper etiquette, or about any of the slaves being presented tonight, I am at your service.”

That took a small burden off of me. “That’s wonderful. My name is Chris.”

Her eyes widened a little at the appearance of my hand for her to shake. “Sir, I don’t mean to embarrass you, truly. It is unseemly to touch another’s slave without permission from their master or mistress.”

I clinched my eyes shut. Stupid! “Of course. I should have remembered.” The rules were there for a reason.

She held out her hand toward the majority of the crowd standing around enjoying the atmosphere. “Sir, you are of course allowed to inspect the offered merchandise.”

Glancing at where she was gesturing I raised an eyebrow. “Inspect?”

“Of course, Sir. If you would like to direct your attention to the left, you will find a master inspecting the teeth and breast firmness of a potential slave.”

And there it was, some perved-up guy sticking his fingers in a girl’s mouth while feeling her up. Jesus. “Uh, no thanks.”

“Sir, as you wish.”

I nodded and looked away. “I’m just going to browse around for now, if you don’t mind.”

She smiled and curtsied again. “I will be at your disposal, Sir. Enjoy your evening.”

There was nothing more I wanted to do than to buy one of the girls and just get the hell out of the freakshow that I was currently wading in at the moment. So, I took a set in one of the armchairs at the periphery and looked for someone that I could set free at the end of the evening.

Punching several of the PIN numbers  in my pad, I received relevant data as to the going price range of the potential slaves, and was astounded at the numbers I was seeing. Well, Maggie did say it was for charity, and the publishing house would cover the expense.

It wasn’t until the auction was about to end, and I hadn’t made my choice, that I spotted a girl that looked vaguely familiar. She was in the mid-five foot range, with black hair that reached the middle of her back. Her costume for the evening was a latex minidress that hugged her body not unlike a second skin, but that was the purpose of latex. She teetered on high stilted pumps and looked very comfortable wearing them. The mind boggled. The white collar around her neck was the only other thing that she wore.

I tried to get a decent look at her face, but every time I stretched to the side, she turned away a little more. With a sigh, I tossed back my third drink for the evening and stood.

“Your attention please. There is five minutes remaining to enter your bids.”

Checking the pad once more I confirmed the time and looked up to find the girl had disappeared. Dammit! Scanning around without trying to make it seem like I was desperate, I spotted her twenty feet away with her butt being grabbed by a buyer.

I made quick work sifting through the ten or so people until I reached the girl. Since she was currently being pawed, I thought it best to just get her PIN and go from there. Her face turned again and I could only get a halfway decent side view of her cheek, but I did see her PIN tag well enough to gather the needed information. Good enough. I’d buy her, find out if she was actually someone I knew, interview her and then go to bed.

Never again. I’m sticking with simple plot lines from here on out.

The bidding for the girl looked like it was between two perspective buyers and myself. Not wanting to walk away empty handed with the possibility of having to return at a later date, I punched in a fairly high bid above and beyond the other two.

It was a few seconds later that I heard someone behind me cuss. I smiled to myself. I’ve been to professional auctions in the real world. These people were amateurs.

The pad flashed to indicate that one of the bidders had bowed out, and then a minute later, then other did the same.

“Final bids, please. One minute remaining.”


The only people that were left, to my relief, were the new owners. I was presented with a USB flash drive with pertinent information about my new slave. Guh. I was a slave owner. Thank god it was only pretend.

The drive was supposed to contain medical information, past training, habits, and hard limits of the subject. I didn’t have my laptop with me, so that would have to wait until later.

They were nice enough to allow the girls a chance to change into street clothes if we wished. I did. They also retrieved the collar that Maggie arranged for me to use. It was a simple silver hoop, so that wouldn’t stand out in public at least.

I pocketed the flash drive and waited patiently until my research project finished primping or whatever it was she was taking so long in doing.

When she finally came out, her face was downcast and curtained by her long hair. She wore a black track suit or maybe one of those yoga outfits that were popular at the moment, and in her right hand she trailed a decent sized suitcase. Beside her was the lady that took my ID at the beginning of the evening.

“Mr. Jonns, it’s my pleasure to present your new slave. Her name is Michelle. Of course you may change that if it’s not to your liking. Michelle, say hello to your new master.”

The girl curtsied, and cleared her throat slightly. “Good evening, Master.” All of this was performed with her head bowed, so I still couldn’t get a good look at her face.

I leaned forward and grabbed a hold of her suitcase. “Hi, Michelle. Let me get that for you. My car is right out front.”

The hostess smiled at me. “Enjoy.”

Have you ever received a look of ‘I know something you don’t know’? That’s the feeling I got before we left.


She sat in the front seat of my Jeep Liberty, still with her face downcast. It was starting to get annoying, making me bring visions up in my head of her previous master beating her into submission or something equally as repugnant. “Michelle? Are you hurt?”

“No, Master.”

I shook my head, if only to myself. “My name is Chris. I’m not into the scene. Master makes me sound… evil. So if you don’t mind…” I left that suggestion hanging there, hoping she would take the initiative and call me by my actual name.

“As you wish, Master Chris.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “Just Chris, Michelle. No Master, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.”

It was like pulling teeth, I tell you.

When we approached the first stoplight, I brought the car to a stop. “Michelle, would you look at me for a moment?”

I saw her take a deep breath and release it before turning her face toward me. Finally. Tear tracks ran down her cheeks, and her eyes were red. Then I finally figured out why I was having such a hard time ever since I first spotted her. It was because I knew her, almost as well as I knew myself, almost five years ago. The problem was that I didn’t know her, I knew him.

My mouth dropped open slightly in disbelief, but before I could voice my shock, the car behind me honked its horn. The light was green. Through muscle memory alone my feet and hands responded. I looked away and then saw the guy I once knew as Kevin Thomerson look back down.

I was flabbergasted at the situation. Kevin, me and two other guys were best friends all through junior high and high school. Sure Kev was short, never seeming to go through puberty like the rest of us, but he was part of our group. I never once suspected that… this… that he…

“I’m sorry for not letting you know about this before you bought me, Master.”

“Stop calling me that!” I snapped in shock, or anger, I didn’t know which. She flinched away and I heard her quiet sobs, thus I immediately regretted the tone. “Michelle, Kevin, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just… Jesus.”

Popping open the console at my side I withdrew a hand full of tissues and passed them over. She grabbed the bunch and patted at her face. She — god was she even male anymore? Those breasts I saw back at the club sure as hell looked real enough.

Not another word was said until after we arrived at my home. This would be familiar territory for… ugh, Michelle, I guess. It was my parent’s home before they took off on a early retirement to tour the nation in an RV. Popping the back open, I grabbed her suitcase and then opened her door.

“Come on inside, Michelle. I’ll make us some coffee.”

She followed me inside and then stood to the side of the door for a moment before kneeling to her knees with her hands clasped behind her back.

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t look up. “Awaiting your orders, Sir.”

Was she serious? Okay, it seems like I have a little conditioning to break. “I want you to take your suitcase up to your room. Pick one, it’s doesn’t matter. Take a bath and relax. When you feel better, we’ll talk.”

Without any preamble she did as instructed. I sighed and reached for the medicine drawer where I kept the Tylenol. I had a feeling I was going to have an industrial strength headache before the evening was over. The first thing I had to do was take a look on that flash drive to see exactly what the hell it was they did to my old friend.

Once the coffee was set to dripping, I made my way to my office and flicked on the computer.


It was worse than I thought.

The medical file showed that Kevin was in transition from male to female and he was nearly complete. The final cut was all that was left. From what I could decipher, Kevin had been taking some sort of male hormone blocker since he was fourteen and once he was eighteen he’d been on female hormones. His breast development was real, no implants. He’d had a little reconstruction on his face, a smaller, more streamline nose and his chin was shaved a little. Beyond that, everything else was natural.

In my wildest dreams I would have never looked at Kevin Thomerson with anything resembling lust, but the latex encased girl at the club was something else altogether. No, I didn’t perv on her, but I was still quite male and could appreciate how sexy she was in the outfit, and those heels.

The slave training she’d received was considerable, and somewhat disturbing. While I knew a lot about sex, including the alternative side of things, I was still surprised when I found out that Michelle was pretty much experienced in every conceivable act known to fetishism. To top the whole thing off she was severely submissive.

Her previous master even left notes beside each entry describing what to expect. The last part is what bothered me the most.

Michelle is entirely dependent on her Master and is virtually unable to make any decisions on her own. Her devotion to the lifestyle is absolute and will make sure every want and desire you have of her is fulfilled. Treat her well.

My mind was starting to wake up. This wasn’t some one shot deal for charity. I couldn’t just give her taxi money and send her on her way at the end of the night. I actually owned a slave.


I brushed my teeth for the second time, after emptying the contents of my stomach in the adjoining restroom.

“Master Chris.” Her very feminine sounding voice came from the office door.

I froze for the briefest of seconds and spit my toothpaste in the sink. “Yes?”

“What would you like me to wear for the evening, Sir.”

I rolled my eyes and cringed. “Uhh… Do you have anything — god, how do I ask this without sounding like a jerk — anything normal? A robe or something?”

“No, Master Chris.”

Great. “Go to the master bedroom.” No the irony is not lost on me. “Grab one of my shirts for now.”

“Yes, Sir.” She sounded so small and innocent. I’m going to kill Maggie at the first opportunity.

I shut down the computer and headed toward the kitchen. By the time I filled the mug and added two sugars I was almost calm enough to actually speak without fear of making an ass of myself. I brought the mug to my lips and turned around just in time to see Michelle step into the kitchen. It wasn’t the best of timing.

Yeah, I burned my tongue.

Standing there, in one of my thin white button downs was a little angel. Her hair was still wet. Remembering that she couldn’t make any of her own decisions anymore, I suppose I should have added the little caveat of blow drying her hair to my instructions. The tails of the shirt made it to her mid thighs and her little fingertips  were poking out, just past the cuffs. I did notice that her nails were long and painted.

The worst part was seeing my shirt wasn’t the best choice for modesty’s sake. It was thin and her nipples were dark and making little tents, plainly on display. Definitely need to get her some clothes, quickly.

I cleared my throat, trying to act nonchalant. “Would you like some coffee, Michelle?”

Her eyes looked up at me, but did not meet mine. “If it pleases you, Sir.”

Sighing, I set my mug down. Obviously I needed to take a different tack. “Do you still like coffee, Michelle?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Good enough. I poured her a mug and mixed in sugar and milk, if I remembered Kevin’s tastes properly.

“Come on. Let’s go into the living room and we can talk there.”

She waited for me to pass and then followed a respectful distance behind. I arranged a couple of coasters and set the mugs down before sitting in one of two armchairs. Yes, I was expecting her to choose the couch or the other armchair. Instead she knelt at my feet. Feeling anger at whatever led her to do this, I pulled it back into myself.

“Michelle, I want you to make yourself comfortable on the couch and drink your coffee until you are satisfied.”

“Yes, Master Chris.”

This whole master thing really needs to take a vacation. “Let’s set some ground rules, okay.”

She sipped at her mug with what looked like heavenly delight. “Yes, Sir.”

“Okay, first rule. Drop the Master, the Sir, the Master Chris, every term that places you subservient to me. My name is Chris. You know this. Now, can you follow that rule?”

She swallowed, nervously. “Yes… Chris.” I could see how much she was uncomfortable with saying only my name.”

“Good, great. Now, I want you to tell me how you got mixed up in something like this, Michelle. The last time I saw you was high school graduation. I’ve kept in contact with Glenn and Wayne, but you dropped off the map.”

She seemed reluctant at first so I tried to ease the way. “I’ve seen your medical records. You’ve nearly transitioned into a girl. It said that you’d been taking hormone blockers since you were fourteen. You wanted to be a girl all that time?”

She nodded.

I starting grasping at straws for questions. “Did your mom and dad not want to help?”

She shook her head no.

“Did they kick you out?”

No again. “I left.”

From what I remembered, Kevin was holding down a counter job at MacDonalds. There was no way… ahh. “It was the money. You didn’t have any.”

“Just enough to pay for the medication.”

I made the only conclusion that I could come up with. “You sold yourself to pay for the procedures.”

She looked down in shame, not answering me. “My previous master didn’t want a full woman as a slave. When I finished all of the procedures up until that point, he… he sold me.”

I set my mug down and leaned forward. “Michelle, you could have come to me. Hell, you could have come to any of us. I thought we were friends.”

She sniffed. “I was scared.”

Running my hands over my face in mild frustration, I thought about that. She was right. If I was in her position, I probably wouldn’t tell me either. The thing was, Kevin was one of my best friends, and now that he’d become Michelle, I felt so incredibly sorry for her.

“Look, I’m not going to own a slave, okay? You’re my friend, and I’m not going to treat you like you are beneath me. So this is what we are going to do.”

She raised her head a little.

“Do you have enough money saved to finish your transition?”

She shook her head no.

“Fine. You’re going to work for me, as my assistant.” Her eyes widened. It was the first time I had seen her hopeful all evening. “We’ll get you some insurance and make sure that you’re taken care of. This whole slave thing ends here, tonight.”

Now her face fell. Was I missing something here? “What?”

She looked to the side, uneasy, and tried to say something. Her mouth opened and closed again a couple of times. Her hands tightly gripped the mug. You can’t be serious.

“Michelle? Are you trying to tell me that you want me to own you?”

Her eyes flicked up to my face, still not meeting mine. The slight upturn of her lips told me all I wanted to know. She liked being a slave, she wanted to be owned. Leaning back in the chair, I took the mug in my hands and gingerly sipped at the lip. Great, just great.

“Okay, we’ll take this thing one day at a time. I’m sure that regular duties of an assistant are pretty similar. Maybe you can double as a…” I waved my hand in a circle trying to rationalize the situation. “A maid or something.”

Her slight grin turned into a full fledged smile.

I sighed. “No French maid outfits or latex. We’ll go out tomorrow and fit you out into a new wardrobe, and get you what you need to take care of yourself. Okay?”

Michelle sipped merrily at her mug. What the hell had I gotten myself into?


After an hour, I could barely drag any particulars about her condition and needs, so I called it a night. Making sure she was tucked into bed, I turned out the light in her room, directly across from mine, before going through my nightly routine. Twenty minutes later, I turned the light off and tried my best to find a comfortable position in my king sized bed.

Right when I was in that netherland between sleep and wakefulness I heard a very light knock on the door.


The door opened a crack. “Chris?”

I rubbed at my eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“I can’t sleep. I’m not used to sleeping alone.”

I blinked in the relative darkness. Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the first time we’d slept together. There were plenty of sleepovers in the past. “Did you want to sleep with me?”

“If it pleases you.”

I sighed and smiled slightly. “You getting a good night’s rest would please me.”

Michelle slid through the small opening she made with the door. That was when I’d noticed that she wasn’t wearing the shirt I’d lent her. This whole situation was getting stupidly out of hand. Before you’d know it I’ll be wearing leather straps and paddling her butt.

With a small movement of the sheets, she slipped into the bed and scooted over until she was right beside me, doing everything but physically touching me. Feeling her eyes on me, I knew she was waiting for me to invite her to the place that women in my bed normally took.

She used to be one of my best friends. Would you not comfort one of your friends after five years of slavery?

I lifted my arm. “Come here,” I said as lightly as I could. The moonlight sifting through the window let me see a reflection off of her teeth when she smiled.

Two seconds later, I felt her warm, naked, smooth body against mine. A single leg crooked up and over one of mine, tucking her foot in neatly at my calf. Her head rested comfortably at my shoulder and her hand glided over my chest and abs before resting on my opposing hipbone. Everything felt so incredibly good. It had been almost a year since I had been out with the guys, and picked up a girl for meaningless sex. The feeling of her soft breasts against my side was reminding me of that simple and annoying fact.

“Thank you, Mas… Thank you, Chris.”

“You’re welcome.”

We lay there for what had to be about five hours, but was probably more like ten minutes. I had already grown fully erect and I was inadvertently brushing against her forearm. The one time that I actually wished I was small in that area and it was beyond me.

Michelle’s hand centered itself on my abdomen. She knew she was turning me on. It was obvious even to a blind man… or women, as the case may be. I twitched accidentally when the bottom of her hand touched the tip. That was when her hand slid down and I found out exactly how warm her palm was.

Her voice followed in a whisper. “May I please you, Chris?”

My sex drive was screaming yes! However, my head was still relatively in charge at the moment. “That’s not why I invited you into my bed, Michelle.”

“I know that, Chris. I… I want to make you happy.” Her hand cupped me and her deft fingernails scratched teasingly along my perineum.


I couldn’t even get another word out, because her hand moved back up and gripped me lightly, stroking me twice. “I can make you very happy, Chris. Let me show you, please.”

“Okay.” I’m slime, the worst sort of person imaginable, taking advantage of an innocent like this. What I was doing was wrong.

Michelle wasted no time moving under the covers. Before I knew it, I was completely surrounded by the most wonderful warmth I’d ever felt. It was very rarely that I’d received oral from a girl. Usually it was only used as a precursor to the main act itself. But Michelle made this seem like this is what she lived for.

I heard noises from her throat telling me how much she enjoyed what she was doing. Either that or it was how she was trained. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’d hoped that it was the former. Minutes turned into an eternity of delightful feelings that she showed me until I felt that oh so familiar sensation of release approaching.

“Michelle, I’m almost there.” The least I could do was be a gentleman. I would make her… “Oh god!”

Her suction increased and her tongue did something underneath the head that sent a jolt of pleasure up my spine until I released into her eager mouth.

She eased up and drank me into her, gently massaging me in long slow strokes until I was spent. A few moments later and she had resumed her original position at my side, hot and glowing with a sheen of sweat along her skin.

Michelle sighed in contentment while I basked in the afterglow. “Thank you, Master.”

I couldn’t bring myself to complain at that moment. Instead I wrapped my arm around her and made sure that she knew that I enjoyed the gift she gave me. “Thank you, Michelle. That was probably the best… it was the best.”

Her hand ran over my chest and down to my hip before she returned to its place between my thighs, cupping me gently.


That’s how she woke me in the morning. I hadn’t nearly reached any point of wakefulness when I felt her mouth working its magic once more. Well, at least she’s making certain decisions for herself.


By the time she’d returned to my side once more, the sun was cresting and shining its way into the bedroom. “Good morning, Master. What would you like for breakfast?”

Straight to work, I see. “I think you’ve done enough to make me happy for now, Michelle. I can make breakfast.”

She frowned. “That’s supposed to be my job isn’t it?”

I sighed again. “If it will make you happy, go ahead.” Her cute smile returned and she bounce up to kiss me on the cheek. “Thank you, Master.”

I lifted my eyebrow at her.

“Sorry. Thank you, Chris.” She smiled happily at me and virtually bounced out the bedroom door. Then thing was, I didn’t see anything extra bouncing along with her, if you get my meaning. Michelle was completely smooth down below. That puzzled me. I had thought… no, I knew that there was no medical procedure done down there and she even told me that she wasn’t completely a women as of yet. So what the heck happened to… never mind. When she wants to tell me, she’d tell me.


Breakfast consisted as eggs, homemade biscuits, with honey, and plenty of coffee. Who would have thought that Michelle would make a wonderful cook?

I tried to keep from leering at her dressed solely in one of my mother’s aprons. The strap that ran around her neck barely covered her areolas. It was distracting as hell.

“We definitely have to get you some clothes this morning.”

She grinned happily at me. “I don’t mind being nude in front of you, Chris, if it pleases you to look at me.”

I shook the image of her vacuuming the carpet in the nude out of my head. “That’s not the point.”

Her grin increased. “It pleases you then?”

I rolled my eyes at her teasing. “If you are fishing for a compliment, Michelle, there’s no need. You’re a beautiful girl.”

Her eyes kind of glassed up for a second before she got all shy on me. “Thank you, Chris. I’m glad I can make you happy.”

Reaching over, I lay my hand on top of her. “Just being my friend makes me happy. ”

Michelle’s eyes did glass over this time. “May I be excused, please?” I nodded. She was up and out of the room in a few seconds.


My new housemate had a wonderful experience shopping. She felt guilty for making me spend my money on her, but I insisted she get anything that caught her eye. That was one of the big things I liked about being a bestselling author. Money wasn’t really an issue.

We went home and emptied the Jeep, before heading out again to the local Target to buy her necessities, and one stop at a medical supply store for surgical adhesive, whatever that was for.

When I noted that she didn’t have any shaving equipment, I was informed that she’d already had that taken care of. She’d never have to shave ever again.


Michelle nodded. “Laser removal. I highly recommend it.”

My eyebrows bunched together. “For whom? Me?”

Her laugh was infectious. “If it pleases you. Lots of masters have their hair removed. It makes wearing fetish outfit’s a lot easier.”

Again I didn’t understand. I was kind of getting annoyed that I didn’t get half the stuff that was coming out of Michelle’s mouth, because I was so inexperienced.

“If you try to put on or take off a latex outfit, it’ll rip a lot of hairs out in the process. Liquid latex is almost impossible to take off. It’s almost like waxing. So, a lot of people into the scene just have their body’s lasered or electrolysis.” She grinned at me kind of playfully. “Plus it’s sexy.”

I shrugged. “On a girl like you I’d have to agree. On a guy like me.” I gave her that ‘not so much’ tone. She disagreed.

“I think you’d look hot like that. Not that you don’t already.” She blushed. “There’s just a lot more you can do with a smooth body.”

“A lot more? Like what?”

“Well,” she paused for a second and then her eyes sparkled. “If it pleases you, I can always show you.”

I almost laughed, but I knew she was serious, by her tone. “Uh, I don’t think I’d like to have all of my hair removed by a laser, no offense.”

Michelle giggled. “I mean, when we get home, I could shave you and we could play a little.”

I glanced over at her. A hopeful look was on her face. “Michelle, I don’t expect you to feel indebted to me. I don’t want that. I want you to feel free to tell me to take a hike if you want. You’ll still be my assistant and I’ll still help you any way I can.”

“Thank you, Chris.” Her lips twitched to the side with amusement. “May I shave you when we get home and show you some of the things I was speaking of?”

In one ear and out of the other, I swear.


When it came to being nude in front of me, Michelle didn’t have a care in the world. She loved showing off her female body, and she loved catching me staring at times. Now me, on the other hand. The entire time she was working on my arms and legs, chest and other, more sensitive areas, I was red as a beet.

I wasn’t like Bigfoot or anything. I was just average hairy. After each limb or other area, she rubbed in some lotion she said that would help make sure that I didn’t get razor burn, then she’d tease me mercilessly. Her body constantly brushing up against me was keeping me at full mast. It was almost imperative that I try to get my mind on something else.

Since she was sitting on the edge of the bathtub working diligently on my last leg, I could see between her legs a lot better than I could this morning. Something definitely didn’t look right.

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question.”

“You may ask me anything. I have no secrets from you, Master.” She cringed and looked up at me. “Sorry.”

I tried to look annoyed, but I think I was failing miserably. “I know you haven’t had your final procedure yet, but…”

She followed my eyes down to her crotch. “Oh, it’s still there, just tucked away with the surrounding skin glued in a way that gives a decent illusion.”

“Glued? Is that what the surgical glue is for?”

She nodded.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“I’ve been doing it for years now.”

I winced at the thought of tucking and gluing myself like that. “How about when you get hard.”

She smiled at me. “That doesn’t happen anymore. The female hormones I’m taking have side effects.”

While I’ve seen the afternoon talksploytation shows on TV featuring transsexuals and even read up a little bit about them online, I never really thought about them all that much.

“When did you know?”

“That I wanted to be a girl?” She paused for a second to rinse out the razor she was working with. “I guess pretty much always. I mean I didn’t really understand anything until it was almost too late.”

Giving her a quizzical look, she explained further. “I was fourteen and desperately in love with two of my three best friends. I thought I was just gay. I knew I was different for a long time before that. I just didn’t know how. Then you went with Stacy O’Keefe to homecoming our sophomore year. I saw you two dancing and I wanted so much to be in her place, dancing with you.”  Michelle looked away with a wistful smile. “That’s when it hit me. I didn’t just want to be in her place. I wanted to be her. I wanted her body, her breasts, her long legs and thin waist. I want to wear that horrible lavender chiffon dress she was wearing.”

That was the first time that Michelle met my eyes, for the briefest of seconds. “I wanted to be a real girl so that you would dance with me. A week later I did a lot of research and found out how to acquire certain drugs that would stop my male body from developing any further than it had.”

I looked her over from head to toe. There was absolutely no way anyone would mistake her for anything but a pretty girl. “I’d say mission accomplished.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Michelle,” I groaned.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t help it. It’s how I see you. It’s how I want to see you. I’ll stop. I’ll try harder.”

Leaning toward her, I nudged her chin up to see her eyes going glassy. “Why does it mean so much to you?”

She sniffled a little before trying to explain. “When I am owned, it’s like a huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. The only thing I am concerned about is my master and his pleasure. Cleaning house, cooking, making sure he doesn’t have to worry about anything at home. That’s my job, my life. He provides for me and makes sure that I am in good health. Real life and real troubles go away and my world revolves around him.  It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

She looked back down and finished the fine hairs on the top of my foot.

“Was your life so bad that you had to hide away like that?”

I got a shrug in response. “I was interested in the lifestyle at first. I didn’t just jump into slavery. But the more I learned about it, the more I loved what I was doing. When I finally made the decision to go twenty-four-seven, I didn’t look back.”

Michelle rinsed my foot and the dried it before applying more lotion.

“Okay, last question for now.”

She looked up expectantly.

“You said you were in love with two of your best friends. I am taking it from your mentioning the dance and Stacy O’Keefe that I was one of them.” She nodded. “Who was the other?”

“Wayne.” This time she did blush a little.

“So I’ve got competition?”

Her smile split wide and bright at the implication. “Nope. We didn’t work out so well.”

I blinked in shock. “You and Wayne?”

She nodded. “When I was still Kevin. Just once. He took my virginity when we went camping in November, our junior year.”

I couldn’t help it. My mouth dropped wide open. I slapped my forehead. “Sometimes I amaze myself at my ability to go through life with blinders on. That’s why he has a ‘roommate’.” I threw up air quotes for emphasis. “Hold on… why didn’t it work out if…”

“Wayne prefers to be a bottom. With the pills I was taking, well, I couldn’t really keep it up at the time. And I’m about as bottom as a girl can get.”

This I understood. Top and bottom, pretty much self explanatory, giver and receiver, respectively. “Okay, well, that makes sense I suppose.”

Now that Michelle had totally finished with her shave-job of my body, she knelt between my legs and gazed hopefully up at me. “May I occasionally call you master?”

How far the moral have fallen. When I looked down at her eyes, I knew I couldn’t deny her something as simple as a nickname for me, even if it was abhorrent to me, as long it made her happy. A wispy thought flickered in my head as to who was actually the master and slave in our odd relationship. I’d found myself doing and saying things that would have never occurred to me before, all because of a friend in need who was becoming more important to me with each passing hour.

“In private only. Never in public without permission.” I barely got that out before she bounced up and hugged me tight around my neck. “Oh, thank you, Master.” I was rewarded with a dozen kisses all over my face and another hug before she pulled back gazing longingly at my lips.

She licked hers and I watched as her breasts actually heaved. I know, romance novel cliché, but there you go.

Bringing my hand up behind her head, I let my fingers sift through her soft hair and pulled her lips to mine.


Well into the night, Michelle showed me how having smooth skin was a bonus. It wasn’t until late the next morning that I awoke alone in bed that I knew that I was totally and irrevocably screwed. Just two nights in my bed and I realized I was addicted to her. My once male friend choosing to forgo a normal lifestyle in order to be with me.

It didn’t start out that way, I suppose, but it’s ending that way. Was it the sex? Had it just been too long and now that I had a willing, or better yet an eager partner, I had given in and now participated in her unhealthy fantasy life?

My brain argued each and every point I made. Who’s to say what’s normal? I had sex, well close enough, with a guy. I was gay. That was quickly countered with, ‘If she’s a guy then I’m Stephen King.’

Perhaps, if I make sure she gets herself involved with some therapy, then I could justify having the thoughts that were no more alien to me. Maybe I should join her.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and listened intently as I heard the vacuum cleaner off in the distance.


After my morning routine, I donned only my bathrobe and made my way through the house to find Michelle cleaning away in my office with the most wonderful attitude about her. She seemed genuinely happy. This wasn’t an act, because she didn’t even know I was there. I had half of my silly fantasy being played out for me at the moment and I didn’t want to break the spell. She moved back and forth throughout that room, vacuuming away, in the nude. No heels. Maybe next time.

It wasn’t until I saw her click the machine off before I realized that she had spied me. Bouncing over to me, with the exuberance of a pre-teen in the body of a adult, she hugged me.

“Good morning, Master. Isn’t it a beautiful morning?”

She pulled back and I looked at how radiant she appeared. “It is indeed.” I kissed her and all thoughts of confusion seemed to leave my mind. Maybe this is exactly what I wanted. Maybe Michelle was exactly who I wanted. “You know if you keep not dressing like this, I’ll never get any work done.”

Her eyes sparkled with merriment.  “I could always go out and get that French maid’s uniform that you were admiring at Fredrick’s yesterday. Some five inch pumps to go with it, maybe?”

I felt her hand find its way through an opening in my robe to something that was poking her in the stomach. “Would you like that, Master? I could dress up how ever you want. We could do anything that you want.”

My eyes closed in response to her touch, the hypnotizing sound of her voice, the feel of her lips at my neck. The robe opened and Michelle rubbed her smooth body against mine as she worked her was down and I felt her mouth on me once again. This time it was different. It was daylight and there were no covers. The office was well lit and she was kneeling before me with her mouth full of me.

I opened my eyes and looked down. Her stare burned into me. She finally met my eyes again and it was enough to leave its presence felt deep within before she broke away and concentrated on pleasuring me.


I set the phone down after the conversation with my accountant. Michelle was officially added to the payroll as my personal assistant, an account would be set up in her name for her checks go to. I had a strong suspicion that she would refuse if given the choice, but this way if something were to happen to me, she wouldn’t be penniless, having to rely on others for her well being.

Once I found her original psychiatrist’s name, amongst her medical records, I set up an appointment for a few sessions. It was obvious that I was becoming wrapped around her finger already and I desperately wanted someone impartial to see if there was a way for her to become a little more independent. Years of being a literal slave had to have done some serious psychological damage to her, which I wasn’t equipped or qualified to handle in the least.

Lastly was an appointment with her doctor. If Michelle wanted to become a woman then I would see that it happen. She suffered enough in her life not to have what she truly desired.

A light knock came at the door before it opened. “Master, your lunch is ready.”

I really wish she would wear something. Constantly seeing her nude was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything beyond, ‘wow’. “Thank you, Michelle. You are joining me at the table this time, I hope?”

Her head dropped a little, with a simple smile. “Yes, Master.”

Rising from the chair behind my desk I crossed the floor and gave her a kiss on her forehead. At breakfast, I had to stop her from eat her breakfast from a plate on the floor beside me which didn’t include any utensils whatsoever. The depths of human depravity amazed me sometimes. It was pitiful watching her mildly frustrated at eating with a fork and knife.

There were some things that I would be willing to bend on, like the nickname of Master, but eating off of the floor was unacceptable. Michelle would become human again if it killed me.


“I’ve made appointments with your old psychologist and current doctor. I want you to go ahead and finish up what you started if that’s what you want.”

She stopped in mid bite, halting her fork in the air halfway to her mouth. “Do you mean the SRS, Master?”

I nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

She set her fork down and a strange look came over her face. “It’s is, almost more than anything.”

Looking down at my plate, I became a little sheepish. “Well then. That’s decided.”

The next thing I knew, Michelle was crawling into my lap, laying her head on my shoulder. It still surprised me how small she was.

“Thank you, Master. Thank you so much.” She sniffled, and then after a few seconds started sobbing.

Having had enough of this I picked her up, as I stood, which was with little effort. Carrying her to the living room, I sat in the recliner and gently rocked her in my arms while she let go with whatever ghosts were haunting her.

We both nodded off after a short time, and I was awakened once again by her fondling me. I smiled and shook my head. “Is that all you think about?”

Michelle giggled. “All I think about is your pleasure.”

Capturing her lips with my own, I gave her a deep kiss. “You can think about your own pleasure once in a while, you know.” I looked down her body for a moment. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t… I can’t have orgasms anymore.”

That sounded really off to me. “Seriously? I thought that transsexuals could still…”

She shrugged. “I guess, but I haven’t had one in a couple of years.”

My eyes went doubtful. “Have you tried? Did your previous master even touch you or were you only for his pleasure?”

She frowned and lowered her head. “When I started getting significantly smaller, he lost interest. I’ve been a house slave for the last couple of years. He had another that satisfied him in bed.”

I couldn’t believe it. There was no way that… I mean, she was… Jesus, I can’t even think in complete sentences anymore.

“Well, we’re going to change that.” I swallowed, a little nervously at where my thoughts were leading me. “Can you, um, free yourself down there?”

Michelle’s eyes widened. “Master, you don’t have to do that. There are other ways.”

“Other ways.” I pondered that thought for all of two seconds before figuring out what she was talking about. “Oh, you mean back there.”

Michelle smirked a little and nodded. “And my nipples are very sensitive too. The last time I achieved orgasm was that way. I’ve tried using a dildo while I masturbated, several times, but that didn’t work. That’s why I don’t think it’s possible anymore.”

Frank talk about sex, outside of boys being boys, always embarrassed me, but Michelle talked about it like the conversation topic was the dinner menu. So I lamely tried to be as frank. “Well, I want you to be equally as satisfied. Whatever you think might work. I’m willing to try my best.”

When I looked directly at her eyes I could see she was watching me, but looked away, not letting us connect. “Michelle, look at me.”

She brought her eyes up, but I could tell she was looking at my forehead or the bridge of my nose, but never directly in my eyes. “No, I mean look at me, at my eyes.”

Finally focusing on me, I sighed. “I always want to see your eyes. They’re very pretty.”

“Thank you, Master,” she whispered.

Running my hand down the outside of her thigh, I enjoyed the padding of her hip for a moment. “Now, why don’t you show me how I can make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

She nodded. “I’ll need to go cleanse myself first, unless you’d like…”

Oh eww. “No, go right ahead and cleanse away. Um, anything I can do in the meantime?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Master? I know how you feel about my previous lifestyle, but there are certain things that turn me on that you might not like.”

I braced myself for the worst. “Such as?”

Michelle stood and held out her hand for me. Once I was up, she led me upstairs to her unused bedroom and the suitcase sitting on the bare dresser.

“My previous master was very conscious about assigning toys to each slave. So when he sold me, he wanted me to take the ones that were used on me. He would buy new ones for any new slaves he bought in the future.”

Having seen the fetishes that Michelle had been train in, I was afraid to even look.

“I’ve used all of these a number of different times. If it would please you, then choose any that you would like to try with me.” She unzipped the suitcase and opened it. After moving a few things aside she withdrew one of those old fashioned enema kits and smiled up at me. “This will take me about fifteen to twenty minutes, Master.”

Reaching up on the balls of her feet she kissed my cheek and smiled at me before disappearing to the hallway and into the bathroom next door.

It was like a suitcase full of sex. There were some things I’d never seen before and didn’t have a clue as to their purpose, while other things were self-explanatory. The phallic shaped devises were obviously used for penetration, but some of them were oddly shaped, curved and short, long and bumpy, thin at the tip and extremely wide at the bottom.

I shook my head at the variety.

Then there were the restraints. Cuffs of different sizes, leather harnesses that boggled my mind. A handball with a single strap coming out from either side. Hey, a paddle; I know how to use that! Although the thought of hitting Michelle didn’t do anything for me, in fact if anything, it would have the opposite effect of turning me on.

With a swallow of resolution, I picked up the suitcase and brought it over to the bed so I could spread out the toys by category. Don’t ask. Okay, I’m a little anal, and considering what I’m about to do to Michelle, that’s probably a good thing.

It took the rest of the time she spent in the bathroom for me to organize everything properly before she joined me in the bedroom. She seemed a little surprised at what I was doing.

“I wanted to …”

Michelle set her hand on my arm and gripped it lightly. “It’s alright, Master. I understand.” She looked over what I had done and saw the pattern. “I see the anal toys are here, some of the restrains are there, the nipple toys are there. What’s this pile?”

I smirked and almost laughed at myself. “Those are the ones I didn’t know.”

She raised her head back and smiled. “I understand. Well, Master, let me show you.”

She picked up a couple of handfuls of leather harness and unfolded it. The smile on her face was naughty, like she knew something I didn’t know, which was obvious. Once she had it unfolded, she stepped into the harness and brought it up over her hips and through her arms.

Oh! Her torso was crisscrossed with leather straps now. She did up the clasp at her neck and centered two silver rings over her nipples so that they were proudly displayed. “Do you like this, Master?”

Truth? Oh yeah. It was like something out of a magazine.

Her eyes dropped to my obvious erection tenting my robe.

“I guess you do.” She picked up a large silver J with a ring on the end. “This is an anal hook. The curved end goes inside me and you would tie off the long end in my hair. I’d have to braid it first.” My eyes widened in confusion and she set it back down. “Maybe some other time.”

“This,” she picked up a leather sheath of some sort with straps on the open side. “Is an arm binder.” She turned around and clasped her hand together in back of her. “Just slide it up my arms.”

I took the thing and did as she instructed. “That’s good. Now feed the straps around and secure them to… yes, perfect.”

That looked like it hurt having her elbows virtually touching. “That doesn’t bother you?”

She turned around. Having her arms secured like that made her breasts stick out and her nipples were very hard. “No, Master. This is one of my favorites.”

I shrugged a little. “Okay.” After taking it back off of her she set it aside.

“One last thing if you don’t mind a whole lot?”

Well, in for a penny and all that. “What’s that?”

Michelle gestured to the bed. “That black ball with the straps. It goes in my mouth and secures behind my head.”

I blinked. Okay. “Um, how will you tell me what to do?’

Without any accusations, she asked, “Master have you ever made love to a woman before.”

“Yes,” I replied dryly.

“Same thing, but with me, you can be a little rough. Since I’ll be gagged and helpless so that you can satisfy your every whim, I can’t use a safe word. So if I shake my head back and forth really hard that means I need to stop because I’m hurt or you are pushing me too far.”

“Are you sure about all of this. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Michelle closed into me and kissed my chest. “Master, I want you to hurt me a little. I want you to pull my hair and pinch my nipples until I scream. I want your hard cock in my tight little ass. Paddle me if you like.”

I cupped her face and saw how she was looking up at me, with all the trust in the world behind her eyes. “Do we need all of this?”

“It’s the only way I know how to orgasm now, Master. If that is what you’d like. If it is your pleasure then take all of it off and I will submit to whatever you want me to, plain vanilla if you prefer. I know I cannot orgasm if at the bare minimum these items are used. I still might not be able, but at least I will have tried the best way I know how.”

I bent down a little and grabbed her face for a soul searing kiss. We stood there for minutes until I heard her make little mewing noises in my mouth. Backing away, I looked at her wet lips and her chest heaving with rapid breaths, so I grabbed the gag and wedged it in her mouth. I heard her sigh with relief when I fastened the buckle behind her neck.

She led the way into the bedroom and I spotted a couple of new additions on the nightstand. A couple of towels and a jar of something, probably some lubrication of some type. She won’t be the first person I’ve done this to. I knew at least that much.

Michelle started to get up on the bed, but I stopped her. I wasn’t about to just jump in and plow away. It was a wonder she couldn’t have an orgasm if that was what she was used to.

A little foreplay was in order. Since her mouth was currently occupied, I started at her neck, tracing kisses and nibbles along both sides. The light scent of leather entered my nose when I moved down to lick at her protruding nipples.

She moaned a little behind her gag when I bit down slightly on one and tweaked the other between my thumb and middle finger. My lips made a seal around that same nipple and I sucked on it until her areola was swollen through the steel that circled it. Moving to the other I teased her and bit down a little harder this time.

Michelle’s breathing increased and she was almost constantly moaning and writhing under my hands and mouth.


Without thinking twice, she dropped to the bed and looked at me under half closed eyes. “Spread your legs.”

I grabbed a hold of her knees and scooted her closer to me so that she was barely sitting on the bed. I closed down my mind and gave her attention between her legs. I bit along her thighs and then followed that with my tongue, soothing the light red marks I was giving her.

Once I was where I normally was at this point with a woman, I inspected exactly how she accomplished the ‘hiding penis trick’. Ahhh, that’s how. If I looked very carefully I could see the very tip trying to poke out where a genetic woman’s entry hole would be. The rest was secured with the surrounding skin. Very ingenious. So I gave it a lick.

That brought a whole different sound from Michelle’s mouth. Deep and raw was the noise that she emitted. I looked up at her and her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head slightly.

I smiled. “Did that feel good?”

This time her head nodded quickly.

“Would you like me to do it again?”

Tears fell from her eyes, falling down her face when she nodded a second time. I really hated that gag. So, I reached up and unbuckled it, pulling it from her mouth.

Michelle worked her jaw for a second. “Master, what’s wrong?”

“No gag. I want to be able to hear you. I want to know exactly makes you feel good.” She pursed her lips for a second. “And I want to kiss you.”

I ate hungrily at her lips as I ran my fingers through her hair, pulling her to me.

“Master,” she whined.

“Michelle hush. Do you want to please me?”

She nodded.

“Then listen to me. If I’m going to eat your pussy properly then I need you laying down.”

Her eyes widened and she giggled a little at my language.

“You can keep the harness on if you like. However, I want you… wanting, for our fun right now.”


I put a finger to her lips. “When you fully become a woman, do you want me to lick you down there? Would you like it if I spent some time rubbing your clit and fingering you until you squirm and beg me to fuck you?”

While I was saying this I was caressing her breast, but at the end I pinched her rather hard.

“Oh god, yes!”

I kissed her again. “Then let me give you a preview of what it’s going to be like.”

Easing her back, I kissed her again. “Just relax and think about how much fun it’s going to be after you are complete?”

I didn’t waste much time going back over what I did before, but I did spend a few seconds on her breasts before kneeling between her thighs again. She didn’t smell like a girl would, which was a plus at the moment, because she just smelled fresh and when I gave her a long lick from back to front it just tasted like skin, nothing funky.

Not that I’m a prude or anything, obviously, but sometimes a girl didn’t take care of herself like she should. Michelle was quite different in that regard.

The one thing I’d have to say about this particular arrangement was that everything was in reverse. The sensitive nub was in the rear of her slit, which actually made teasing her that much easier.

This time I was able to clearly hear her as she groaned at my agile tongue. I wondered if this was a transsexual thing, that maybe the skin between her legs was extra sensitive or something. From my own experience I know that I like having it licked, but it didn’t bowl me over like it’s making Michelle sound.

I gave extra special attention to the bottom of her slit because I knew that was probably the most sensitive area. She was right, she never got hard, but I’m here to testify that she was able to produce some sort of fluid, probably precum.

“God, Master, I need you inside me, please!”

Who am I to deny the wishes of my lady?

When I pulled back I grinned at her. “Like that did you?”

She scrambled for the jar of lubrication, fingering a big glob and reaching behind her to apply it. Her eyes fluttered for a few seconds at the attention to herself. The remains of the lube was spread over my hard cock. Then she was up on all fours like a flash, staring at me with a pleading look.

I shook my head. “Nuh-uh. On your back. Trust me.” I swear the girl had gymnastic talent. She flipped around and the bed bounced at the speed. A second later I was between her thighs again positioning myself at her entrance.

She wasn’t as tight as I thought she would be, which would have been like a fist, but she was more than perfect for what we had in mind. Slowly I eased into her, and I watched the expression on her face as a guide, never letting her wince once.

Michelle’s eye were closed as she was taking in the sensory input of the whole experience. Her jaw worked open and pulsed a few times wider and wider until I was all the way inside her.

”Michelle, look at me.” Her eyes snapped open and she stared at me solid and strong. “How do you feel?”

Her legs closed on me and rose up while she smiled. “Full.”

Posted in Uncategorized

Alexis (Another abandoned story)


May 11th, 2010 Posted 19:32

Okay, here’s another one that is unfinished, and will stay unfinished, but is up for adoption if you want it. Ame rules apply.

The reason this one is abandoned is because I got disgusted with it and realized I was just rambling away at the point it stopped. I also realized that I had no real goal except for the “everyday living” story, which I am tired of. I like conflict in my stories and the lack of it shows. Anyway, this one had a working title of Alexis.


Have you ever had one of those nightmares where you can swear that everything you experienced was real? Maybe it was the kind where you and your best friend that you’ve known forever were in a teen nightclub, squirreled away in the corner. You wanted to ask her to dance but because you’ve known her since you were babies and your parents were best friends with hers, you didn’t want to screw the pooch and make an ass out of yourself? Maybe, in that very same nightmare, the kitchen in that very same club had a gas leak. Maybe it ignited and blew up half the club.

Maybe you saw that your best friend was unconscious, maybe dead, and you had to drag her to safety. Maybe right when you made sure she was outside and the paramedics took her, you realized that your chest was bleeding. A lot of maybes, right? Two more, then I promise I’ll stop.

Maybe you pop the buttons on your shirt to discover that there was a piece of metal sticking out of your chest. Maybe it was then that you died.


I swear it was a nightmare. I knew it the moment that I woke up in bed covered in sweat. It was so incredibly real. The smell of smoke, and burning bodies was still fresh in my mind. What I wasn’t sure about was if I was still dreaming or not.

The room I was in was my best friend’s, Alexis. Don’t let her hear about me calling her that. She prefers Nikki, or even Nichole as a last resort. She always hated her first name so she used her middle name instead. There were so many times I had to listen to her curse her mother for naming us alike. I’m Alex, Alex Nicholas. Funny, right? That’s what happens when two cheerleaders insist on going through high school together, college together, insist on living next door to one another, and getting pregnant together. Well, not exactly together, not at the same time, anyway. Two weeks apart, but they planed it. I swear.

My mom even went so far as to have the doctor induce labor when she found out that Nikki’s mom went into labor. As a result, Nikki and I have the same birthday, born ten hours and thirty-nine minutes apart. I barely made it, according to my mom. Dad makes so many jokes about how mom was bound and determined to squeeze me out as if the fate of the world was balancing on that particular event.

Where was I? Oh, right, Nikki’s room. That was really strange. I mean, we used to spend the night at each other’s house when we were growing up, but ever since Nikki started getting boobs, that tradition ended.

I didn’t understand it at first, well not even a year later, until I started growing hairs where there were none before. Then I got it real well. That’s when my life started becoming a lot more complicated.

See, Nikki has a really, really, really bad self-esteem problem. She hates her body, always thinking she was too fat. When she lost her baby teeth the adult ones grew in crooked, so she got braces. Her hair was a mousy brown, straight, flat, and lifeless. She always wore sweats that were way too big on her. When she sneezed, she would make the highest pitch ‘choo’ sound like five times in a row. And last but certainly not least she had, according to her, the worst laugh.

What she didn’t realize was that I thought she was perfect. I can’t stand girls that are rail thin, and she wasn’t lard-o fat in the least. I liked her hair. It was really soft and always smelled really good. The braces thing sucked, but I knew they would be coming off at the end of the month, so that was already corrected. And I thought the way she sneezed was the cutest thing in the world. “Choo, choo, choo, choo, choo.” It brought a smile to my face whenever I heard it. Her face would wrinkle up and she’d hold the back of her fingers against her nose.

Two things made me fall in love with her, above all else. The first was her laugh. It was so full of life. There was no teensy giggling, or chuckling. It was a full blown screaming laugh every time. That and her eyes. They were the prettiest fluctuation of hazel/green/gray that I had ever seen. If she would let me, I would probably just stare at her eyes all day.

Yeah, I’m crushing big time. She was my best friend and maybe one day she’d be my girlfriend. That is if I could ever get the nerve to tell her how I felt. I’m such a coward.

God, there I go again, off with the pixies, as my mom always calls it. I’m her ‘little dreamer’. Annoying, right? She was a cheerleader, what can you do?

Anyway, Nikki’s room. What the heck was I doing waking up in there?

The pounding in my head made me not want to open my eyes again, but the pressure in my bladder told me I didn’t have a choice if I didn’t want to ruin Nikki’s bed. Keeping my eyes closed, I pulled my arm out from under the pillow and tried to wake it up. Don’t ask.

Fine, drag it out of me. I always slept weird, with my arm under my head, where it cuts the circulation off. I always wake up with one dead arm. While I waited until the pins and needles thing ran its course I noticed certain things felt off. My legs were kind of itchy. I rubbed them together and they scratched against each other.

I frowned.

Reaching under the covers I went to rub my inner thighs were it felt the weirdest and for some reason I found that my leg hair was gone, and someone had replaced it with stubble.

Hey, I was a seventeen year old guy, I could kind of shave. I knew what stubble felt like, sort of.

Shifting in bed, my whole body moved like it wasn’t supposed to move. Things were there that weren’t there before I fell asleep. My eyes snapped open as I lifted the sheets up to see what was wrong.

Everything stopped in my little world. My breathing, any noise I could make in my throat, the birds stopped singing outside Nikki’s window. Then the world went on fast forward.

Faster than I could blink, my hands went to my chest. Oh god, they were real.

I may have bit my lip too hard, because I could taste a hint of blood in my mouth. Slowly, I released my injured lower lip and a breath shuttered out of me, along with a girlish sound of disbelief. Covering my mouth a split-second later, I stifled a panicked scream. Yep, that was definitely a girl’s scream.


This time I didn’t bother with the whole hand covering my mouth thing, because when I turned to see who called out my name, there was Nikki, sitting on the bed. The only thing about it was that she wasn’t exactly all there.

I rolled to the side and fell out of bed. Luckily, I landed on all fours, but unluckily the bed was very tall and the sudden jarring of those tremendous mounds on my chest hurt!

“Shhh! Be quiet! Mom’ll hear.”

The something that looked like Nikki, jumped off the bed and ran around to where I was scrambling.

Spinning around, I fell onto my butt and pushed away, until I was nestled into the corner. “Go away, this is a nightmare. I’m still asleep. Wake up!”

The thing that looked like Nikki shushed me again. “You gotta be quiet, Alex. Give me a chance to explain.”

My hands clenched into fists, digging my nails into the palms. Oww! Opening them, I glared at the fingertips. Some of the nails were long, definitely longer than I remember mine, just the night before, while others were jagged and broken. I glanced back up at the Nikki thing. She was dressed like my best friend was at the club last night, but she was dirty. Her face was smudged,  clothes black in places, but the worst thing was that she was transparent. I could clearly see through her at the bed. This had to be a nightmare.

“Listen up, Alex Nicholas.” She only called me that when she was mad at me. A natural reaction to her anger was to freeze in place. “We were at the club on Friday. There was a gas leak and it blew up. You managed to drag me out the front door. I was dead, but the paramedics revived me. You saved my life, but…”

I blinked rapidly. My jaw quivered.

“They don’t know how you did it.” Transparent Nikki swallowed, with a pained look on her face. “Something from the club stabbed you in the back… all the way through. Alex… you died.”

“No, you’re wrong,” I whispered.

Her eyes widened and she gave me her, ‘are you stupid’ look. “Okay then. How do you explain being in my body? Hmm?”

I was afraid to look down, but I did anyway. My knees were tucked up under my chin. Well, they would be if the gargantuan breasts weren’t in the way. “Your boobs aren’t this big. That’s how I know.”

Her mouth opened a little and she rolled her eyes. “Yes they are. Why do you think I always wear baggy clothes and tight sports bras?” She turned around and pointed at her dresser mirror. “Go ahead, look for yourself.”

“No.” Okay, I was scared spitless.

Nikki’s anger went away and a look of compassion fell upon her face. She kneeled beside me and moved into my line of sight. “You chose this, Alex. Come on, you have to remember something.”

“I what?”

She sighed and then sat back. “Look, you’re going to have to believe me. This is going to sound really weird.”

I almost laughed. “Weirder than having these?”  I said as I pointed at my chest.

An eyebrow quirked up and she shrugged. “Okay, look. When I died, in the club, I popped out of my body. I watched you grab my arms and drag out. Which, by the way, thanks. You were great.” She smiled at me like I’ve always wanted her to, lovingly. “The paramedics took me and started doing CPR, needles, those electro-paddle things, but in the meantime you were standing there.”

I grasped my hands together while I was listening to her story.

“I waited looking at my body and back at you, hoping that they could get my heart restarted. Then you got a weird look on your face and started opening up your shirt.”

The dream. I remember that part. “I was bleeding.”

Nikki nodded. “You remember?”

Nodding slowly. “I remember dying.”

“Yeah. The second you hit the ground, you did the same thing as me. You popped out and were standing right next to me.”

I shook my head. “I don’t remember that.”

She nodded. “Fine, I’ll tell you what happened. But first you have to start getting dressed. Mom will be up here doing her whole concerned mother thing again, and I’m getting really sick of it.”

It was then that my body reminded me that I needed to do something. “I gotta pee.”

That stopped Nikki right in her tracks. “Oh, right.” She took a resolving breath. “Well, let’s get this over with. You’ve got a lot to learn. Might as well start with the basics.”

Impending dread welled up inside as I awkwardly stood. I swear the tugging on my chest was making me think that I had fifteen pound weights attached in the form of… never mind. If I actually called them by their proper name then that means I’ve accepted this, and for right now I was still hoping this was just a really realistic dream.

“Grab your robe off of the chair. You’ve got a teenage brother now, and he loves trying to see me naked, the little perv.”

The robe relieved the naked feeling I was going through, but the way that the shiny fabric was sliding across my body was making me really self-conscious. “Is it supposed to be this short?”

She smirked at me. “Yes, it’s a perfect fit.” Pointing at the dresser she said, “Open this drawer here.”

I tied off the accompanying belt and did as she told me. It was her panty drawer. Oh wow. I always wanted to see this. No man’s land. Forbidden territory. Girls panties. Oh crap.

“Get the blue boy shorts. I think that’s about your speed for now. We’ll work up to the other stuff later.” She snapped her finger. “Come on. Mom’ll be up here any second if she doesn’t hear you moving around from downstairs. Open the drawer next to it.”

I grabbed the indicated panties and opened the other drawer.

“Matching sports bra… come on,” she said with some encouragement. “Now close the drawers. We’re not barbarians.”

Nikki walked me through one of the most embarrassing times of my life: peeing and the proper way to wipe after, showering, which I thought I knew how to do, but apparently girls do that different too, wrapping my hair up in that stupid towel turban, brushing with braces, applying body lotion. When I was layering it over my legs, she bent over and noticed the stubble that was bugging me in bed.

“We’ll, deal with that tonight.” That was ominous.

I pulled on the panties, and donned the sports bra. Oh god, much better, although it was kind of tight.

“I think it’s time for another fitting. When are those things going to stop growing?”

I blinked into the mirror as I looked at the squished boobs. “They’re still growing? How big are they?”

She shrugged in an annoyed way. “Last measurement was thirty-four Dee cup, that was about eight or nine months ago. I swear, I’m getting mom back for these stupid genes… well, I guess that’s your job now.” Nikki looked sad at that thought, but she shook it off. “Okay, come on. Get your robe. Back to your room.”

I opened the door and there was Nikki’s little brother leaning up against the wall, ogling me. I jumped, startled, and grabbed at my neck to close the robe even further.

“Who were you talking to in there?”

I glared at him. “None of your business, pervert. And quit spying on me.”

“Whatever.” He brushed past me, into the bathroom and closed the door.

“Told ya.”

Safely ensconced in Nikki’s room, I followed her over to the walk in closet. “It’s supposed to be hot today. Grab that tank and that blouse. Oh and lose the robe, come on. Breakfast is going to get cold.”

I hung the robe on an empty hanger and slipped on the tank top, which didn’t quite make it to my navel. “I think it shrunk.”

Nikki shook her head. “That’s the way it’s supposed to fit. Remember hot today. Now the blouse.”

It was like a half shirt with long tails in the front.

“Button the bottom two and then tie it into a knot under your breasts.”

I flinched when she reminded me about the flesh-like watermelons on my chest.

“Embrace it Alex. The sooner you do, the sooner you can accept your new life.”

I glared at her. “You aren’t the one with all the new equipment here, Alexis,” I snapped back. Whoops. It happens when I get mad at her. I call her by her hated name.

Nikki balled up her hands and set them on her hips, while she gave me murderous eyes. She pursed her lips and then sighed, visibly trying to control her anger. “Okay, I guess I deserved that. Look, I’m trying to help you out here, Alex. I can’t stay here with you forever. They’re only giving me a month.”

“Who? Who’s they?”

She winced. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Crap. I can’t tell. It’s against the rules. Suffice it to say that I’m here to help you through the rough parts. Nobody can know that you’re really Alex in there. As far as anyone knows, you died outside the club saving me. Now tie off the ends and put these capris on.”

I dried my hair, with Nikki’s supervision and then slipped on her selection of simple sandals. Thank god I didn’t have to wear heels or anything stupid like that.

Having virtually grown up half my life in Nikki’s house, I knew my way around very well. Mr. and Mrs. Bradbury were literally like a second set of parents. I called them Mom and Dad just like Nikki did with my parents, so it was with no difficulty that I did so again that morning.

“Morning Mom.”

She grabbed me into a furious hug, smushing the things on my chest even more.

“Oh, my god. When is she going to stop doing that?”

I eyed Nikki over her mother’s shoulder, rolling her eyes. “She’s been like this for the last three days. Every time I turn around. She won’t let me out of her sight if I leave the house.”

“Morning sweetie. Did you sleep well?”

Nikki jumped in. “Tell her you did, quick.”

I nodded when she released me. “Yeah. Fine.”

“No more nightmares?”

Well, yeah. Big one this morning. “No, if I did then I don’t remember.”

She smiled. “Doctor Barrington said that it was perfectly normal, under the circumstances. Don’t be afraid to tell me if you did. We can go see him today if you want.”

A quick flick of the eyes to Nikki and she answered my unasked question. “He’s your shrink. Mom insisted that I get therapy.”

“Uh, no. I’m cool.”

She cupped my cheek and brushed an errant hair behind my ear. “You’re so brave. My little angel.”

Oh brother. “What’s for breakfast?”

She smiled at me. “Your usual. Cup of oatmeal and half a grapefruit.”

Ugh. Mom turned around to finish up stirring the oatmeal while I gave Nikki the hairy eyeball.

“I’ve been dieting.” Turning around and heading to the table, I whispered, “When aren’t you dieting?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’ll soon find out exactly how hard it is to be thin.”

“Nikki, you’re perfect as it is. Did you see the girl in the mirror this morning?”

“Did you say something sweetie?” Mom asked.


“Tell her you need some new bras.”

“Do you think I could get some new bras. The ones I have are too small.”

Mom’s eyes widened. “Again?”

I shrugged.

She brought over a really small bowl of oatmeal and a saucer with a funky spoon on it. “You remember what the sales lady said last time. If you got any bigger, they’d have to special order the extended cup sizes.”

Maybe it was the whole being a girl thing, but I almost lost it. “It’s not like I asked to have gigantic breasts! God!”

Mom flinched away from me. My eyes started to burn and I felt my throat tighten. I had to get away, back to the safety of Nikki’s room. Pushing away from the table I ran to the stairs and lost one of my sandals along the way. Halfway up I kicked the other one off and made a mad dash to the room before slamming the door.

Before I knew it, I was on top of the unmade bed crying into the pillow.


“You have to remember that you’re a girl now.”

I scowled at Nikki. “Kind of hard to forget, hello.”

She ignored my barb. “You’ve got whole different types of hormones running through your body. It’s going to make you a lot more emotional.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And you did ask for this, just so you’ll know.”

Nikki was lying beside me, her head on the pillow next to me while we faced each other. “You’re not kidding are you?”

Her lips thinned in a regretful smile. “Nope. You ready to hear the rest of the story?”

I nodded.

She swallowed and then stared right into my eyes. “There we were, standing over our bodies.”

How weird must that have been?

“The paramedics where zapping me in the chest so nobody saw you fall at first. Something happened, which I can’t tell you about.”

She slapped her head. “That’s why you can’t remember! Duh!”

Knowing she wasn’t going to tell me what it was I just gave her an arched eyebrow.

“Sorry, I know it’s got to be a pain in the butt. Anyway, I have to move on. Remember the month time limit? So, you were given the choice to move on with me or go back. At first you said you weren’t going anywhere without me, which was sweet, by the way.”

My face started heating up with embarrassment. “Oh my god, I’m so cute when I blush. You never told me that.”

Ignoring the way my ears were joining in the party I waved my hand for her to continue.

“I didn’t want our parents to be totally heartbroken. I mean losing both of us at the same time like that…” She sighed. “So I told you to go back. I was reminded that you’d have to take my body since yours was too hurt at the time. So I let you make the choice.”

“And I said yes?”

She nodded. “You did manage to talk…” she growled in frustration. “You said that I had to come along for a little while so that you would know what to do. Not being a girl and all. So here I am… for a month… well, minus three days anyway.”

I let that settle into my head for a minute or so before asking my next question. “So once I make sure everyone is over my death, in a month, then I get to come with you?”

Her face changed right then. She was content. I’ve seen it a number of times, so I’d know. Reaching out her hand, I felt a cool brush of air along my cheek. “You’ll go on, Alex. You’ll live your life like you were supposed to.”


“No buts, mister. You saved my life, maybe killing yourself in the process. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. So, you get to live your life. It’ll be a little different, well, a lot different, but still.”

I shook my head. “Why can’t you take it back? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Because it’s my choice.”

“But it’s your body.”

“It’s still my choice, and I choose to give you the same thing that you wanted to give me, to do the same thing that you did for me. I love you, Alex. How can you take that away from me?” Nikki wasn’t accusatory toward me; she genuinely wanted to know why I would do something for her and not allow her the chance to do something for me right back. “Who would you prefer living, you or me.”

“You.” I didn’t even have to think about that.

“Exactly. So I choose you.”

Our philosophical argument would have to wait for a moment because the bedroom door opened after a very light knock. “Nikki?”

I turned over and looked at Nikki’s mom. “Yeah?”

She entered and very tentatively walked over to sit on the bed next to me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said to come out like I was blaming you for growing up.”

Her eyes were red. I could tell that she’d been crying too.

“It’s my side of the family’s fault anyway. Bad boob genes.”

I sat up and gave in to the overwhelming desire to hug her. “I’m sorry too, Mom. I’m just…”

She engulfed me and rubbed my back. “I know, sweetie. We’re all overly emotional right now. Death does that.”

I sniffed and rubbed at my nose. She didn’t know the half of it.

“Why don’t you go splash some water on your face. We’ll go to the mall to get you fitted properly so they can order you up some new bras, okay?”

“Score!” Nikki said as she pumped her fist in the air. “Now’s a great time to hit her up for some new outfits too.” I scowled at her before Mom pulled away.

She looked down at me. “Have you lost some more weight?”

“Yes you have. Seven more pounds,” Nikki confirmed.

I nodded.

Mom looked like she was going to say something negative, but held back. “We might as well do a little shopping. Summer’s almost here, and I don’t want you looking all frumpy anymore.”


I’m not going to go through that whole short shopping spree that resulted in two outfits, and an order for six bras. According to the sales lady at the Hanes outlet store, I was now a thirty-six F-cup of which they had one on hand. So, now I was sporting an actual bra that lifted, separated, and put on display to the entire world that I was sporting teenage fun bags. What else would you call them? Breasts just aren’t normally this big. But they did feel a heck of a lot better than the tight sports bra I was wearing before.

I was almost comfortable.

When we got back to the house, there was a note on the door from my real mom, saying that she wanted to talk to me when I had time.

“You feel like talking to her? I could call her if you want and tell her …”

I shook my head. “No, I want to. It’s cool.”

“You’re sure?” asked Mom.

I nodded. “Would you mind dropping my bag off in my room?”

She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “If it gets to be too much just come straight home. I know that house holds a lot of memories for you.”

“I’ll be fine, Mom.”

On the way next door, Nikki caught up to me. “You sure you want to do this. You’re mom is not in the best of conditions right now.”

“You’ve seen her?”

She nodded. “While you were still out of it, I could use your body or be a ghost whenever I wanted. Now I can only use it if you’re sleeping. I checked up on her and your dad… it’s not good.”

“Well, all the more reason to be here then.”

I was about to open the door when I thought it might be better to ring instead. You never know.

“I made the right choice.”

Glancing Nikki’s way for a second, I said, “About what?”

“You’re the better person. You should be the one that lives.”

“Nikki, you’re not a bad…” The door opened and ended the conversation.

“Nichole, hi.” Mom looked terrible. Her hair looked like she hadn’t washed it in days. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot doesn’t even begin to describe the redness in her eyes.

“Hi, Mom.” I fidgeted for a second before she stood back and let me enter.

“Thanks for coming over.”

I nodded. “No problem at all. You can call me anytime and I’ll drop whatever it is… ERP!”

More hugging.

It was obvious that she was putting on her good face when she opened the door, because it was back to weeping she went as she was trying to tell me something.

“You are the sweetest, and most caring girl in the world. No wonder Alex fell in love with you.”

My eyes bugged, and Nikki’s bugged right along with me. It might have comical if the situation wasn’t so sad. Nikki stood there all slack-jawed. So I had to cover the situation. “He told me on Friday.”

Mom pulled away, trying to smile. “He did? I was reading his diary…”

It’s not a diary, really. It’s a journal.

“… said that he couldn’t build up the courage.”

I bounce my eyes between Nikki and my Mom. Screw it, it’s not like I’m around, in my real body at least, to be embarrassed about it. “Let me make you some tea and we can talk about him if you want.”

Mom gushed and grinned so wide. “You wouldn’t mind? Curtis refuses to talk about Alex. It’s like he’s trying to forget about him already.”

I knew my dad. He was the atypical, show no emotions, let nothing ever bother you male. He was hurting, but he had to be the man. “I’m sure he’s just dealing with it in his own way, Mom. I know he loved Alex just as much as you did.”

Taking her hand I led her to the breakfast table while I fetched the tea and heated several cups worth of water. This was definitely going to take a while.

“Tell me about Friday.”

Straight to the point. I checked to make sure she was armed with a box of tissues before looking at Nikki. Her eyebrows were already up. “Yes, Alex, tell us about Friday.”

Maybe I could sneak some vodka in with the tea. That would make this a lot easier.

“Uh, well, we went to the club, but on the way over we stopped and got pizza.” Lie! You’re a big fat liar Alex Nicholas. Lying to your mother, bad boy… girl… whatever. “I wasn’t expecting to eat anything, but I knew something was up by the way he was acting.”

Mom was holding a tissue over her mouth and nose. Just holding it there.

“He held out my chair for me and I definitely knew something was up.”

Mom smiled a little. I could see her eyes crinkle up. “He must have been so nervous.”

“Anyway, uh, we ordered and then he spilled the beans.” My eyes ticked to Nikki who was leaning up against the wall, looking at me with rapt attention. “He told me how long that we’d been best friends and that he wanted to see if there was anything more that we might explore. Then he told me he loved me.”

It was awful. I know. I’m not a poet or anything. I suck.

“That’s awful. He was so poetic in his diary.”

I closed my eyes and thought about Nikki. “I fell in love with your eyes at first, I think. They change color in different lights. Did you know that? Or maybe when you wear something bright or dark. You never liked your weight, but I think you’re perfect. Who wants a girl that when you hug them it hurts because they’re boney? You smell so good, all the time. You’re my best friend, but it’s not enough, because I want to be around you even more than now. I want to wake up next to you and tell you how beautiful you are in the mornings so that you’ll be happy.”

I took a deep breath.

“I want to hold your hand and have all the guys around us be jealous because you’re with me. I see how much you don’t like things about yourself, Nikki. I want to be the one to tell you all the time how perfect you are, so that you won’t ever have to think bad about yourself again. I love you.”

Opening my eyes, I saw my mom looking at me in surprise. “That’s what he told me. It was just… personal.”

Tears were running down her face again, and I was too nervous to look at how Nikki was taking the news. The whistle to the kettle was starting to blow, so I excused myself.

“Is that how you really feel?”

I jumped and caught myself before spazzing out. “Yes,” I whispered.

“Oh god, Alex. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

I heard my mom blow her nose.

“Because I didn’t want to risk losing you if you didn’t feel the same way.”


We reminisced for a while about things that Nikki and I shared that Mom didn’t know about, things that I wanted her to know and never told her. Once we had that out of the way, she invited me to my old room. She was sure that I owned a few things from my previous visits and would want them back.

When we entered, I remembered that I’d made my bed that Friday morning, but it had been slept in since then. I didn’t realize how much my death had affected her. Dad wouldn’t be sleeping in my bed, so it had to be Mom.

Looking over at Nikki standing in the doorway, I could see the sympathy she felt for my Mom. “Um, do you mind if I use the bathroom?”

Mom shook her head and turned to me. “You don’t have to ask, Nikki. This is your home as much as it was Alex’s.”

On the way out I gestured for Nikki to come with me. Once we were in relative privacy I spilled. “I’ve got to tell her, Nikki.”

“Tell her what?” I could see that she already knew, but that she had to actually hear it from me.

“That I’m in here. That I’m actually alive,” I whispered. “This isn’t normal.”

“You can’t do that. It’s against the rules.”

“What rules?” I snapped. “Whose rules? You can’t tell me and I’ve had my mind wiped by someone or something. So those rules don’t apply to me.”


“Did I agree to not say anything?”

“Well, no, but…”

“But nothing. That’s my mother in my room, dying. I’ve never seen her so bad, even when she had that miscarriage and was told she couldn’t have any more children.”

Nikki looked back at the door for a second in silent contemplation. “I don’t know what…” she growled in frustration. “I don’t know what will happen. I have rules that I have to go by. I can’t break them, but I don’t know if you can, since you don’t remember anything.”

I made for the door. “I’m telling her. Maybe knowing that I’m alive, even if I’m a girl now… maybe it will do some good.”

She wouldn’t give me any ascent, and she’d tried to talk me out of it, so maybe Nikki wouldn’t get in too much trouble from whoever was in charge.

When I got back to the room, Mom was brushing her hand over some of my academic awards from school. She was so pale and worn looking. “Mom?”


“I need you to have a seat. I want to tell you something.”

She gave me a curious look, but sat on the bed. I’m sure I appeared really nervous and indecisive about where I wanted to start. So, Mom being Mom nudged me along. “Did you and Alex have sex? Is that what you want to tell me?”

My eyes bugged. “What? No.” Okay I can see where she might make that assumption. “No, this doesn’t have anything to do… well, it sorta does.” I shook my head and started over. “I want you to ask me something that only you and Alex knew about. Something that he wouldn’t tell me.”

Now she was confused. “Why would you want me to do that?”

“Humor me for a minute.”

She blinked and looked away for a minute until she could think of something that I wouldn’t share with Nikki, which in reality probably wasn’t much. “Okay, in your closet, behind stacks of several comic books…”

Oh god, not that!

“… is a gray box about this big.” She mimed a square about two feet apart. “What’s inside?”

I looked over at Nikki and her apparent interest. “How did you know about that?”

My face was heating up with embarrassment.

“As much as I trusted you two, a parent’s job is also to make sure that their child isn’t involved in anything illegal like drugs or whatnot.”

I facepalmed and tried to picture Mom going through my things in search of pot.

“What in the box, Alex?” Of course Nikki was really interested now.

“Women’s clothes, underwear, pantyhose.”

“Did you give them to Alex?”

I shook my head. “No, they’re obviously not my size. Alex was a lot bigger than me. He bought them with his allowance money.”

“You bought women’s clothes?” I glanced at Nikki’s confusion. “Why?”

“Ask me something else, Mom.”

Now she was looking at me with a little more than curiosity. “How did I find out about Alex being in love with you?”

Why is it that she can only thing of the mortifying things in my life? I sighed. “I was… Alex was practicing kissing with is pillow and you saw him.”

“Awww, that’s so cute,” replied Nikki. “Now tell me why you bought women’s underwear.”

Mom was kind of shocked. “He told you that?”

I shook my head. “One more. Just to prove my point, please.”

Mom’s eyes thinned like she was trying to figure out how I knew these embarrassing things. “Okay, what was the last website Alex visited before you two left Friday afternoon?”

Of course, the topper to the whole thing. By this time my face was beet red and my ears felt like they were going to exploded into flame. “A fiction website where people write stories.”

“What kind of fiction? What was the theme?”

My eyes ticked over to Nikki. “Transgender, crossdressing.”

Alright, I think Nikki has finally put all the pieces together. “You’re a trannie? Then why are you giving me such a hard time about having breasts!”

“Now tell me how you knew,” Mom demanded.

“Because I’m not Nikki.”

That wasn’t what she expected to hear.

“When Alex and Nikki died at the club, our souls got mixed up and I got sucked back into hers when the paramedics revived her.” There, that should do as a plausible story that didn’t implicate Nikki or the afterlife in anything but broad metaphysical terms.

“You’re saying that you’re Alex?”

I nodded, and she reached over for the phone laying on the bedside table. “Who are you calling?”

“Your mother. You obviously need to see your psychiatrist, Nikki.”

“Oh boy, here we go.” Complained Nikki. “This is why you don’t tell regular people about body swapping.

“Be quiet, you aren’t helping,” I snapped.

Mom, looked at me in surprise and then over to where I was staring. “Who are you talking to?”

“Nikki. She’s standing over there. Put the phone down, Mom. I’ll prove to you that I’m Alex.” I jumped up and went to my dresser and dropped to the floor in front of it. “Look.” I pulled out the bottom drawer all the way out and set it aside. Reaching into the hidden false bottom, I withdrew and handful of panties and dropped them to the floor.

Scooting over to the other side I did the same thing, but this time I withdrew a USB flash drive. “Here’s all the crossdressing stories I’ve ever written along with some downloads of my favorite authors.”

“Nikki, Alex could have shared those with you.”

I got to my feet. “Are you kidding. I was horrified of her ever finding out. It would kill any chance I ever had of getting together with her.”

I froze for a second. “Oh I know. Nikki go stand over there and tell me how many fingers she holds up behind her back.”

She waved me off. “That’s braking the rules. I can’t do that.”

Mom actually looked, but turned back to me when I growled at my best friend.

“She says it’s against the rules and won’t do it.”


I glared back at my mother. “What else can I do? Ask me something, anything. Oh, um, Nikki didn’t see you before we left on Friday. You were wearing your Cheap Trick concert t-shirt and black shorts that day, and Dad was grumbling about having to eat vegetable stew because you wanted to lose a little weight before our summer vacation.”

Her eyebrows jumped a little at that.

“Now why in the world would I ever tell Nikki about something like that?”

I almost cheered and probably would have jumped in the air if it weren’t for the fifty pound cantaloupes on my chest. She was starting to question herself!

“And… and.. Uh, come on, think!” I berated myself. Aha! “What about what I hear every Saturday about eleven at night when you thought I was asleep?”

Mom went into a little panic mode herself.

“Your name for Dad during those times is…”

“Stop!” Mom held her hand up. “It’s impossible.”

I shook my head. “Mom, I’m standing right here. Sure I’ve told Nikki about a lot of stuff, but you can’t think for a second I would tell her about things like this. That’s private family business.”

“But how?”

Leaning up against the dresser, I stuck my thumbs into my Capri’s. “I saved Nikki’s life. It was her time to move on, but it wasn’t my time. I’d hurt myself too badly getting her out of the club. They couldn’t use my body anymore so they stuck me in hers. I’m Alex, Mom.”

Seeing the hope on my mother’s face almost made my outting as a former crossdresser worth the embarrassment. The problem was that she used her brain too much. It kept fighting with her. I could tell she was trying to reason it out too much.

“What can I do to prove it to you?”

She stared at me for the longest time, but in the end she looked down, shaking her head. I pursed my lips and left the room. The annoyances on my chest bounced as I went down the stairs and into the kitchen to the utility room. After grabbing a large trash bag I headed back upstairs to my former room, and straight into the closet.

I moved the comic boxes to the side and pulled out my box of clothes. Flipping the top open I started to empty the contents into the bag.

“What are you doing?” Mom stood at my closet door staring down at me.

“I’m getting rid of anything that would make you and Dad ashamed of me. I don’t think Dad would take his son being a crossdresser very well. This way he doesn’t have to know.”

It really wasn’t that much. The nerve and guile it takes for a teenaged boy to go out and purchase his own girl clothes was enormous. That pretty much tells you how much I went out to buy panties, bras, and a couple of outfits for his imaginary ‘sister’. Buying them during Christmas season quelled the odd looks I’d receive, a little. Brothers just don’t buy underwear for their family. That was hidden under a totally  separate excuse for a separate trip. This one was a imaginary game of, Treasure Hunt or Truth or Dare.

‘Yes, miss. They dared me to go out and buy some girls underwear in my size in an attempt to embarrass me. Well, they’re going to lose this game.’

“Is there more?” she asked.

I shrugged. “A few things.” The semi-sad look on her face let me know that she really didn’t want any more bad revelations for the day. “Mom, I wasn’t a pervert. I just liked the way the clothes felt. It didn’t make me gay or anything.”

“Being gay doesn’t make someone a pervert.”

With a great sigh, I sat back on my heels. “But you’re disappointed in me all the same.”

“You could have…” She stopped and shook her head. “Alex could have come to me and told me about this.”

“Really?” I asked with some doubt in my voice. “Mom, I’m a crossdresser. Could you maybe share some makeup tips with me? You and I both know the stigma surrounding being different in this way. It’s perfectly fine for girls to dress however they want, but for a guy?”

I took another handful of clothes and stuffed them into the bag before standing up and moving a quilt aside to retrieve a pair of women’s shoes that I had barely worn. Nikki was sitting on the bed now, well within view of where I was standing, with a contemplative thought on her face.

That was it for the closet. I dragged the bag out into my former room, next to the bed. Opening up the draw to the nightstand, I withdrew a tube of hand lotion and dropped it into the bag.

“I used that to masturbate with, by the way.”

Mom’s face tightened. “Why are you doing this? Are you trying to hurt me on purpose?”

I shook my head. “No, not at all. I was hoping, that by telling you that I’m still alive, that you might not feel so bad. I might not be living with you anymore, but I’m still me inside here.” My breasts got in the way when I tried to tap my chest. “God these things are annoying. How do you stand it day after day?”

“They can be quite nice…” She stared at me and my reaction to touching myself. Her face paled even more than was usual since I had been back. “Alex?”

What? Being annoyed at wearing boobs was the tipping point for her believing me? She stepped forward, but caught herself at the last second and stopped.

“It’s me, Mom.” A small idea came to me. “Here’s something else. I don’t really feel comfortable with everyone calling me Nikki when I’m not really her. It’s kind of… disrespectful, I guess. Could you call me, Alexis?”

There, if that wasn’t proof beyond measure then I didn’t know what was. Nikki, really hated her first name. I mean really hated it. She actually had plans to have it changed legally when she reached eighteen. Nobody called her Alexis that didn’t want to feel her wrath.

Nikki had her own opinion on the subject. “I can’t believe you’re going to do that? I was named after a character on Dynasty, a really lame eighties soap opera. You suck.”

I glanced at her annoyed expression. “It’s your name, get over it.”

Mom’s head moved back and forth between the apparently empty bed and me. “Is she really…”

I nodded. “She said that can’t believe that I want to be called Alexis and that I suck.”

That was it. The final straw that broke Mom’s reality resolve. In the span of a second I was scooped up into her arms and squeezed so tight that my ribs hurt, not to mention my boobs. They were squished up against my mom’s and sorry, but that’s just gross.

“Mom, you’re hurting my boobs.”

She giggled and gave me one last squeeze before releasing me. Fresh, happy tears was trailing down her face this time. A genuine smile graced her face. I won’t go so far as to say that she looked good. The bags under her eyes and her splotchy face prevented that, but at least she was smiling again. I had the feeling that she was going to be alright.

Mom looked me up and down. “I swear that I can’t tell the difference. You look just like her.”

“I am her, Mom. This is her body. My soul or mind, whatever it was that made me who I was is inside here now.”

I think the weight of what I said finally leaked its way into her brain. She almost dropped to the bed and jerked her hand away when Nikki didn’t move out of the way fast enough. When my best friend touched me downstairs, it felt cool, temperature wise.

“Damn it!” Nikki swore. “She’s not suppose to touch me.”

I took advantage of the mistake as best as I could. “You just felt a cold spot, didn’t you.”

Mom snapped her head to me. “Was that…”

I nodded. “She’s standing right there, kind of ticked off too. There are rules that she’s supposed to follow. Not touching people that don’t know about the afterlife or whatever is one of them. You weren’t suppose to feel her.”

Mom ignore where I was pointing. “You’re really alive.”

I smiled. “Yeah. And I’m a girl.”

She took a breath and released it with a grin. “Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing. Your mother is a girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do. But shouldn’t you be happy? I mean with the …” She gestured to the bag and the clothes within.

“I’m a… I was a crossdresser. While I may have fantasized about what it might be like to be a girl on occasion, I didn’t actually want to be one. I was happy with who I was.”

“Alex, you might want to call Mom and let her know everything is okay. She’s probably worried.” I nodded to Nikki and reached for the phone and hit the speed dial.

“Hold on a sec. Nikki wants me to let her mom know that things are cool.”

Mom nodded and watched me.


“Hey Mom. Just wanted to let you know that Alex’s mom is doing better. I’m helping her go through his things in his room so I’ll be here for a little longer.”

“Are you sure you want to do that, Nikki? I don’t think she’d mind if you want to put it off for a while.”

“I’m cool, Mom. It’s giving us a chance to talk.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Call me if you’re staying late, okay?”

“I will.”

“I love you sweetie. You’re being very strong.”

“I love you too.”


Nikki took off to go see what her mom was doing. I think she was just bored watching me and my Mom going through my room.

“So, you’re not going to disappear or anything are you?”

I snickered a little. “No, I think I’m here to stay, or at least as much as anyone is.”

She opened up a fourth garbage bag for my old clothes that I suggested she donate to charity along with the little bit of my girl clothes. “Have you made any plans for the future?”

I paused typing in my password for the hidden stories on the computer that I was going to erase. “Uh, no not really. I just woke up this morning.”

She turned to me. “But, who was at the funeral?”

“That was Nikki. She was covering for me until I woke up. Apparently she can enter me when I’m asleep.”

“Oh.” I was getting the feeling that Mom was a little overwhelmed with all of this metaphysical stuff. “Well, you need to think about what you plan on doing.”

After deleting several folders I turned around in the desk chair. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a girl now, Alex… Alexis.” She smiled at the name, just a little. “That means your worldview needs to change along with it. You’ll need to realize that women don’t act like men. You are going to be able to do things and not do things that men do.”

Oh, good point. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m not near as strong as I used to be.” Looking down at my chest I rolled my eyes. “And these things are attention getters.”

She nodded. “You’ll need to find a clothing style that you are comfortable with. I know that Janice wasn’t always happy with Nikki covering herself up all the time.” Janice is Nikki’s mom, in case you haven’t figured that one out yet. “She took care of herself, but she wasn’t one to really be boy crazy.” At that statement, Mom smiled. “Have you given any thought to dating?”

My mouth dropped open. “Uh…”

“You’re a girl now. That means boys are going to be interested in you.”

“I think I’ll deal with that later, if you don’t mind.”

She nodded. “I’ll give you a week then we’re sitting down and having the talk. You can’t go to Janice since she’s already done this with Nikki.”


“Plus you’ll need to know what to do about your period. Do you have… what’s the matter?”

My face was frozen in fright. I hadn’t even thought about having a period.

She clicked on what I was currently freaking out about. “Alexis, it’s all very natural. It’s part of being a girl. Don’t worry, Janice said that Nikki always had light periods ever since she started on the pill.”


“Birth control pills. Nikki had irregular periods, sometimes skipping them all together. The pill helped regulate them, and it has the added benefit of  preventing pregnancy. But I’d hope when you decide to have sex that you’ll insist he wear a condom as well. STD’s are still out there.”

Sex with guys? “Mom, you said a week.”

She shrugged. “The conversation segued. Get used to it darling. Girls talk about sex just as much as guys, and you don’t want to look out of place with Nikki’s friends when you go back to school.” She looked up, hopefully. “You are still planning on going to State aren’t you?”

Frankly, I hadn’t really thought about it much. Nikki had a partial scholarship to the university about ten miles north of town. “Uh, I guess. I’m going to have to change majors though. All I know about Computer Science is located on my laptop. Nikki was the brain in that area.”

Mom nodded. “So, I’m guessing English major?”

“Yeah. I want to be a writer.”

“Well, if you need any help, for anything, you can always come to me.”

Sitting there thinking about everything she’d said over the last few minutes, I made a decision. “Nikki is staying around to help me, acclimate I guess, but she’s only going to be here for less than a month. Do you think you can help me with, maybe, girl stuff?”

Mom stopped folding a pair of jeans that I’d never worn before setting them down. “Of course. What do you want to know?”

I took a calming breath. “Like makeup, and maybe help me with some clothes, picking out stuff that won’t, you know…”

“Make you look like a slut?”


She giggled and walked over to me. “Stand up.” Following her directions I did as she asked. “Turn around for me.” After I made a full three-sixty, Mom nodded. “We can definitely do something to bring you out to the open. Maybe a color change with your hair, some more revealing, but not wild looking clothes. Oh, and we’ve got to get you out of those horrid sandals Nikki favored.”

Not knowing exactly what she had planned, I nodded. “Okay.”

“When do you get your braces out?”

“Um, this coming Monday.” Nikki couldn’t wait. She had the date boldly marked on a calendar in her room.

“We can go afterward and make a day of it if you want?”

I nodded. “That’d be great.”

“Ugh, maybe you can go get your nails done sometime before then and save us some time.”

Even I had to agree, my nails looked like crap. But that’s what happen when a club explodes with you in it. “I’ll see if I can talk, Mom into it. I’m sure she’d love to do something together. Nikki says she’s been really clingy since…”

Mom agreed. “She almost lost her daughter, and she did in a way. She’s got a right. I hope you never have to know what it feels like to bury your child, Alexis.” I didn’t mind when she hugged me again, and squished my boobs once more. “I thought I would die when the police came. There were times over the last three days that I actually wanted to.”

Patting her on the back, I said, “You don’t have to worry about that now. I’m still here, I’m just softer in all the wrong places.”

She pulled back and looked down at them. “They are pretty big aren’t they.”

“We went out to get me some new bras. They’re an F-cup if you can believe it.”

Mom shook her head in disbelief. “You better start doing some lower back exercises or you’re going to have problems when you get older. I’ll plan out a exercise routine and you can come to the gym with me, if you want.”

“Cool.” I actually looked forward to that. “Nikki relied on dieting and yoga. It’ll probably be better if I worked out. I don’t like not being as strong as I was.”


The following week was about as strange as I’d ever experienced before in my life. I’ve learned new things before; who hasn’t? Games, instruction manuals for assembling something, schoolwork, you know, the normal stuff. However, learning to be a girl was something altogether different. It wasn’t so much learning the correct way to walk or talk, since girls have socially evolved into more masculine roles over the decades; the sexes weren’t that much different now if you really looked at them. It was the little things.

Since girls were more aggressive nowadays, I had to be careful of how I treated boys. Innocent looks or touching could be misinterpreted as flirtation, speaking to someone new without a valid reason, the same. It was suppose to be safer to travel in packs for protection and to dissuade the more timid boys to keep their distance. The weird thing was that Nikki really didn’t hang around with other girls like that. She’s hung around with me. It was explained to me that I was the ‘boyfriend’ deterrent. People assumed that we were dating and that was just as good for keeping boys at bay.

“So, I was your boyfriend without benefits,” I deadpanned.

Nikki confirmed my conclusion with a nod. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“You suck.”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s your own fault for not asking me to be your girlfriend.”

“Would you have accepted?”

She nodded. “Yep.”

“Even though I liked to dress up in girls clothes?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Well, I didn’t know that until your mom busted you, so yeah.”

That made me a little inquisitive. “So, you wouldn’t if you had known?”

Nikki didn’t like to be on the defensive, so she turned my question around on me. “You still haven’t explained why you did that.”

With a sigh, I leaned back at the computer desk. Nikki made herself comfortable on her bed. “I just don’t see what the big deal is. They’re just clothes. It didn’t make me a girl or gay or anything.”

“Exactly, so why the big secret?”  I really hate the way she turns things around.

“Because they feel different, and there are more styles for girls. With guys, not so much.” I leaned forward and set my elbows on my knees. “I really like low rise jeans with the stretch denim. They aren’t all thick and bulky. They feel good, and they aren’t pushing in on my stomach. But for some reason it’s like they have breasts attached, because only girls can wear them. It’s stupid.”

She conceded that point. “Okay, I can see that. You make sense. But if comfort is the reason, then why the bras? Bras are not comfortable.”

I sat up and cupped mine. “This one is. I like it a lot better then those sports bars that you were wearing.”

She eyed me like I wasn’t taking her seriously. “Yeah, but you didn’t have breasts when you were Alex.”

Good point. I sighed. “They felt good for a different reason.”

“You mean a sexual reason.”

Shooting her a glare I shook my head. “I didn’t do it to masturbate. Ugh, you wouldn’t understand.”

Nikki sat up in the bed. “I’m trying to understand, but you won’t tell me anything.”

I just fell back into my chair. “Ugh. I’m just comfortable in women’s clothes. How hard is it to get? You know the feeling when you wake up in the morning and the air is crisp, but you are all warm and content under the covers.” At her nod, I flung a hand out. “That’s what it felt like for me. Clothes are not just clothes. Girls clothes are made totally different than guys and I’m not just talking about shape differences.”

She raised her hands in defeat. “Okay fine, you win.” She smirked as me for a second. “I would have liked to have seen you in a dress though.”

I shook my head. “That’s wasn’t a pretty sight. I liked the jeans and tops mostly, and I loved the panties.”

Her eyebrows rose a little. “Yeah, I saw how many weren’t plain old cotton.”

I shrugged. “The silky ones felt better.”

“I’ll have to agree with you there.” Her face was accepting of me. “Alex, I don’t think you’re a freak, I just didn’t understand, okay?”

“So you do now?”

Nikki shook her head. “Not really, but then again the point is moot, because you’re definitely wearing more than a few girl clothes now. You have the whole package, ovaries included.”

That brought on the annoyed look from me. “Yeah, thanks for the warning on that one.”

She rolled back on the bed and laughed her infectious laugh. “You should have seen the look on your face when you thought you broke something in the bathroom.”

I sighed. “Well when I wiped and found blood, what else was I supposed to think?”

“Your mom warned you about checking. It’s not my fault you didn’t check the calendar that’s hanging on the wall with the date clearly marked.”

She was teasing me, but it was still annoying. The cramping wasn’t that bad, or at least not as bad as I’ve heard my Mom complain about. A couple of Midol and I was pretty much just achy, kind of like when I’ve had a bad taco or something, except completely different. Aren’t you glad you have me to explain these experiences so well?

“Alexis, are you ready sweetie?”

Nikki scowled at me for that one. I’d gotten her mom to call me Alexis as well. Sorry, I’m just not a Nikki kind of person.

“Yeah, Mom.” I grabbed my purse and made out the bedroom door, almost racing down the stairs. While I had only worn braces for less than a week, they were annoying as hell. I can’t see how Nikki lasted for so long.

I told her about the makeover that I wanted and that my real Mom wanted to help. She was ecstatic that I worked a miracle and brought her best friend out of the deep depression she was in. But she did insist on coming along for the ride. Something told me that having the two of them together making me over was a very bad idea. They were high school cheerleaders, at one time, after all.


I was confusing myself with calling them both Mom in my head and seeing as how Janice was now my ‘Mom’ now, I tried to think of my birth mother as Cathy.

“It’s like you’re a new person, Cath.” Mom was really amazed at the turn-around that Cathy had made since my visit.

“Alexis gets all the credit.” She smiled at me through the rearview mirror. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m still devastated about what happened to Alex. But to Alexis, he’s her hero. He saved her life, giving up his in her place.”

We’d worked on a semi-cover story so that it wouldn’t look like Cathy was ‘over’ her son’s death so easily. So we built Alex up to be a tragic hero in everyone’s eyes.

“It would be wrong of me to let myself waste away for his sacrifice. So, I’m proud of him. It goes to show how much he cared about Alexis and I’m not going to tarnish that by destroying my own life.”

Mom blinked at her best friend. “That’s… very… um…”

I helped out. “Strong? Adult? Realistic?”

Mom turned her head to see me in the back seat of the Impala. “Thank you miss thesaurus.”

“No problem.”

Cathy glanced at me again. “Did you bring some magazines along with the looks you’re considering?”

I nodded. Nikki and I poured over fashion, hair style, and trend magazines for two days. I had a number of  pages marked with tons of sticky notes that they were going to look over while I was getting rid of the four pounds of metal in my mouth. While we obviously couldn’t afford a quarter of what I marked, it gave them an idea of the look I was trying to achieve.

I was almost horrified to find that hot pants and short shorts were back in style for this summer, along with ripped jeans, and body suits. The jeans I could live with, but everything else was made to expose the butt and a long line of flesh. The plus side, for evening wear, knee high and above the knee socks and stockings were back in. So, I didn’t have to freak about being dressed and nude at the same time.

Boyfriend blazers were still in, so that was a good thing, but seeing as how hot it was going to be during the summer, that was probably impractical. That didn’t mean that I could have some for the fall though.

I know, it sounds like I’ve gone over to the dark side and embraced being a girl. I’m just trying to keep in mind how much I wanted Nikki to wear some nicer things. She was embarrassed and disappointed at how her body looked. I wasn’t. I knew she was beautiful, and now I’m going to show her exactly how much. Seeing as she was viewing me as a sister or something like that now, she was less critical of me not wearing baggy, uncomplimentary clothes. Do as I say and not as I do, or something like that.


FREEDOM! My teeth are free! Straightened, cleaned, whitened, brightened, and polished. I was thinking about blinding everyone today with how white my teeth were. Excellent idea!

“You’re being goofy,” Nikki smirked as she sat in the seat next to me while my mom’s were driving us to the mall.

I could only smile back at her, since I’m sure that Mom’s could hear the tiniest peep from the back seat. I wondered if it was possible to blind a ghost with my teeth. Nikki just rolled her eyes.

When we get to the mall, Mom and Cathy each take one of my hands in theirs and we make a strange sight walking through the fairly empty food court. It was early and a weekday, so there weren’t that many people doing their shopping.

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Rambling Thoughts (Multi-subject)


May 9th, 2010 Posted 11:05

1) I’ve been trying to get my head around my outstanding stories. Inspiration has all but abandoned me, at the moment. I normally go to, peruse the pictures and BAM! ideas flood my head.

1.5) I also look at these pictures and imagine what it would be like to be some of these girls, wondering if they are barely making it or are living the life they always wanted.

2) I have an active fantasy life in my head. Maybe that’s why I love writing so much.

3) My legs are my best asset. My butt is my worst.

4) The first thing I look at when I meet a new person is their eyes… unless their back is to me, then it’s their legs.

5) If I had a choice I’d always wear high heels. 3+ inches.

6) Nilla Wafers are the devil. They are so good.

7) I don’t like turning the lights on at night. You’ll often find me walking around in the dark at home. That’s probably why I never rearrange my furniture.

8) My current wallpaper is Amber Forrester. I love those booties she’s wearing.4bacedc08497f

9) Current story I’m working on is about a guy that is serving out a self-imposed sentence as a country girl living in a small town. This pic is the one that inspired the story. Karen0910) Yeah, that was Amber Forrester as well.

11)  I have nothing new to read. Well, I do, but I don’t want to read it right now. I should have said that I have nothing new that I want to read.

12) My legs are freshly shaven.

13) Crawfish Etouffee sounds really good right about now.

14) I’m thinking about watching “Wanted”.

15) High school was the worst time of my life… or maybe when I had cancer. It’s a toss up. Both were equally as painful.

16) High school was the best time of my life… very little was expected of me… and I was thin as a reed and passable as a girl.

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