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Bobby looked into the bathroom mirror. He was wholly dissatisfied
with his weight, but had unhappily resigned himself to the fact that he would
be heavy all of his life. He had tried all of the diet plans but nothing
seemed to work for him; every time he had managed to lose a little weight, he
always gained it all back plus ten or fifteen pounds. He sadly accepted his
two hundred-fifty pound frame as unchangeable and walked back into the living
room.

The house was elegant and displayed the wealth of its owner. Mrs.
Leslie, a gorgeous, red-headed, thirty-nine-year-old former beauty queen, sat
on the sofa, writing out a check for Bobby to take back to the grocery store
with him. He delivered Mrs. Leslie's groceries each Thursday, without fail,
and the woman had grown very fond of him.
"I guess I'll see you next week, Mrs. Leslie," he began. "I put your
things away in the pantry and the refrigerator."
As she handed him the check, the woman noticed his sorrowful
expression. "What is it, honey? Why so sad?"
"Oh," he began reluctantly, "it's just that I hate being fat. I've
tried everything to lose weight and nothing works."
"Do others make fun of you?"
"Sometimes, I guess," he answered. He felt comfortable talking with
her, and found himself opening up. "I've always been overweight and kind of
quiet...I was called a sissy a lot in school. You know...always the last to
be picked for softball, always the last in everything. Not many friends.
That's why I'm something of an artist...I entertained myself by developing
those talents. But it isn't what others think that bothers me. I hate
myself...and I guess I always will."
She tried to comfort him. "But dear," she began, "you're very cute.
And smart as a whip..." He was unaffected by her words.
"Maybe...but I'd give anything to be anyone else. Anyone thin."
Bobby moved toward the door. Folding the check and putting it into
his pocket, he sighed. "Oh, well...thanks. I'll get this to Mr. Randis as
soon as I get back to the store. See you next week."

"Wait, Bobby," she said, reaching toward him. "Come here a minute."
She took him back into the living room and sat him down on the plush sofa.
She took a seat beside him, holding his hands in hers. "How old are you,
dear?"

"Eighteen," he answered. He looked younger; his hairless baby face
and soft appearance made him seem no older than fourteen.
"How tall are you? Five-nine?"
"Five-seven. Not very tall, huh?"
She smiled. "Just right. Do you live with your parents?"
"No. I don't have any. I was orphaned at the age of four, and I've
bounced between foster homes since then. Right now, I'm on my own, living in
an apartment on Leigh Anna Street."
"I live alone, too...I have ever since my husband died six years ago."
"I'm sorry."
The woman looked into Bobby's eyes, evaluating him and coming to a
decision. "If you really want to lose this weight for good and become an
attractive person, I can help you. But you have to really want it."
He doubted she could do anything for him. "Well, I do want it. More
than anything. But you can't help me. No one can."
The woman shook her head. "I can. It means a whole new life for
you...new job, new friends, and a whole new way of thinking. Not to mention a
new body. But if you really want to be physically beautiful, I can arrange it
for you."
Beautiful? He had never thought of himself in those terms, and he
attributed her choice of phrase to her obvious enthusiasm and her natural
tendency to use words of a feminine nature. In any case, he could see that
she was serious. Could it really be true? "Are you sure that..."

"Dear...if you'll put yourself in my hands for three months, at the
end of that time you'll be a whole new person. Young, and thin, and gorgeous.
And most importantly, you'll be happy. I promise."

"Mrs. Leslie..."

"Monica. From now on, call me Monica, Bobby. We're going to be best
friends." He smiled.
"Okay. Let's do it. Whatever it takes."
"This will be a full-time project, for both of us. You'll have to
move in with me. You can have the spare bedroom downstairs. Will that be a
problem?"
"No, I guess not," he answered. He was having trouble making his rent
for the month anyway. "I'll be closer to work and..."
"I want you to quit. I'll support you. Like I said...this is going
to be a full-time program, Bobby, twenty-four hours a day. You're starting a
new life."
"Good," he said. "I hate the one I have now."

* * *

The next day, Bobby moved into Monica's palatial house. Hers was an
exclusive neighborhood, occupied only by the richest of the rich. Her money
was old money, passed down in her family for as long as anyone could remember.
No one quite knew how the Leslies had acquired their great wealth, but Bobby
was unconcerned about that.
She was going to help him.
As he began to put his things away and hang up his clothes, Monica
entered the room. "Oh, no, no, dear," she began. "I'm going to provide you
with everything you need. You're my project...and I'm going to reshape you
into my idea of physical perfection You must let me dress you and let me
decide upon what hairstyle and grooming suits you best. Agreed?"

"Gladly," Bobby said, handing her the slacks he was about to hang in
the closet. "I trust your judgment more than my own. You're so beautiful and
you have such wonderful taste in everything...I'm sure you'll know what's best
for me."
"Good," she smiled. "Why don't you go slip into the tub. I'll get
rid of these things of yours and bring in the clothes I've picked up for you."
Sometime later, as Bobby soaked in the warm, sudsy bath, Monica
knocked lightly then walked in. "Time to start things off," she said, holding
a small faceted bottle of sparkling clear crystal that seemed to contain a
pearly pink liquid of some kind. She pulled to top from the bottle and handed
it to him.
"What is it?" Bobby asked, watching the way the mysterious fluid
played in the light. "Do I pour it into my bath water?"
"No, no," Monica laughed. "You drink it. One dose like that each
day, for twelve days. Then, it will be in your system until it finishes its
work."
"How long will that take?"
"Three months. And once the fluid has entered your body, there's no
stopping it or reversing its effect. You'll be committed, for better or
worse. Are you sure you don't want to be the same Bobby anymore?"
"Positive," he answered, punctuating his response by downing the
liquid in one swallow. "Mmmm...tastes sweet."
He handed her the empty bottle. "You'll get one of these each day for
the next eleven days, now," Monica reiterated. "Then, at the end of that
time, it will begin to erase the pounds from you and re-create you totally."
Bobby smiled, anxious to see what the magical potion was going to do
for him. "This is going to be the longest three months of my life. It's like
being a kid waiting for Christmas."
Monica turned to leave. "Dinner will be ready when you're done with
your bath, dear. I've laid out some clothes for you on your bed." She shut
the door behind her.
Bobby laid back in the warmth of the bath and closed his eyes. This
was like some wonderful dream -- finally, he would be rescued from the
existence he had drudged through for as long as he could remember. He was
grateful that fate had brought him toget her with Monica, and for the first
time he looked toward the future with joy andanticipation.

* * *

Monica walked up to Bobby, the twelfth dose in her hand. "Here it is,
dear," she said. "Last dose. Swallow this, and the process begins."
Bobby gladly took the bottle from her and removed the stopper.
Without a word, hedowned its contents in one gulp and smiled. "Finally," he
said, smiling. "I can't wait to see what happens now. I've wanted this for
so long..."
"Your wait is over. The changes are beginning, even now. By the end
of October, you'll be a completely new person. No one you've ever known will
even be able to recognize you."
"That's what I want. Life as a different person. I was even thinking
of changing my name."
"Actually," Monica began, a slight smile on her lips, "that will
probably be necessary. But let's see." She walked up and looked at his hair
and nails. "I'm afraid I've not been keeping up with your grooming as I
should be."
"No?"
"No, dear. One side effect of the process you've undertaken is that
your hair is going to grow in very full, very fast. And so will your nails.
Something to do with stimulated protein production...it keeps your body fed
and healthy while it burns away the fat. Quite a drastic change in your
metabolism has begun."
He looked down at his nails. "I guess they do need cutting..."
"Anna's coming in today to do my nails. I'll have her give you a full
manicure while she's here...and I'll take you with me to the salon at the end
of the week. We'll have your hair done there...a style that looks good on
you."
Later that day, Anna arrived for Monica's nail appointment.
Afterward, the manicurist followed explicit directions from Monica and took
care of Bobby, skillfully and carefully shaping his nails -- but not cutting
them -- and applying a coat of clear polish to them.

"I thought we were going to cut them short," Bobby commented, looking
at his longer-than-usual nails.
Monica held his finished hands and looked them over. "Oh, no,
Bobby...not at this delicate stage. Cutting them now could disrupt their new
growth patterns. We'd best wait a while." She looked at his head of hair.
"And with your face shape and bone structure, I think you'd look much nicer
with a longer hair style...by the end of the week, your hair should be long
enough to really work with. We'll see what Suzanne can do with it on Friday."
The clothes Monica had selected for Bobby were made of fine fabrics,
mostly silks and expensive weaves. She preferred him in artsy, blousy shirts
of delicate, shiny material, and he was more than happy to leave his
appearance to her tried-and-true judgment.
By Friday, Bobby's soft, dark brown hair had grown almost to his
shoulders, making it far longer than it ever had been. He accompanied Monica
to her salon and, closely following her direction, the stylist painstakingly
sculpted Bobby's hair into an almost feminine style. Following Monica's nod
of approval, Suzanne sprayed the boy's new hairdo so as to insure that every
hair remained in its proper place. No one had ever fussed over his hair in
such a manner, and Bobby felt odd to be such a center of attention. Finally,
Monica smiled and paid the hairdresser, and she and Bobby left the salon.

As the weeks passed, Monica's bathroom scale showed that weight was
indeed falling away from Bobby's body. In a month and a half he went from
three hundred to less than one hundred-fifty pounds, and his body finally
appeared to have been freed from its life-long prison.
Bobby noticed, however, that he was not losing weight evenly; he
seemed to be slimming down faster in some areas than in others. He saw
himself as lumpy. His waist, face, and arms lost weight easily and
consistently, but his hips, thighs, and buttocks seemed to be losing their
body fat more slowly. His proportions were not becoming those of the slender
beanpole he had hoped for, as fast as he had hoped. The clothes Monica
constantly had to buy him always seemed to fit perfectly, however, no matter
howunevenly his weight loss progressed. Apparently, she knew what sort of
body shape to anticipate.

"You're coming along fine, honey," Monica constantly reassured him.
"Different parts of the body lose weight at different rates. Once you've lost
all of the fat you're going to, we'll have to tone you up and firm you up.
You'll even out...and I guarantee you, you'll have a physique that will turn
heads. Most of your body changes will come in the last couple of days, in
fact, so don't worry. Wait for the finished product."
"Okay, Monica. I guess I'm just too anxious."
"Understandable, dear...but just think of all the weight you've lost
so far. Look at you...it's wonderful."
"How much more will I lose? Shouldn't I just about be there?"
"Your body will know when it's where it should be...but you're right.
It shouldn't be much longer, now."
Each week, Monica had Anna do Bobby's nails and had Suzanne do his
hair. By this time, however, Bobby's shiny hair hung almost to the bottoms of
his shoulder blades and his strong, polished nails were an inch long. They
were impeccably done, yes, but Bobby knew they made him look quite feminine.
"Should my hair and nails really be this long?" he asked Monica one
evening, looking at his perfect, ladylike manicure. "I look like a girl."
"You look wonderful," Monica answered. "It's the perfect look for the
new you. Sophisticated, elegant, and artistic...a lot like the rock group
Queen looked in their early years. So...ethereal and mysterious. Don't you
trust me?"
"Well, sure..."
"In fact," Monica began, "I want Anna to pierce your ears. There's
nothing quite so chic as an impressionistic artist with diamond ear studs. I
tell you, Bobby, I'm going to be so proud to introduce you into
society...before long, you'll be a highly sought-after talent. Your work will
sell for thousands. Your name will be on the lips of the elite everywhere."

Bobby thought about that. He would be set for life if that were true.
"I never thought I would actually get the chance to support myself with my
talent."
"I promise you, honey...I know all the right people. You'll be a
smash."
Another month went by. Bobby's wardrobe had become a stylish
assortment of silken, flowing robes and caftans. He had dropped to one
hundred-twenty pounds and his build had become slight and graceful, made more
so by the elegance of his long hair and the delicate, liquid fabric of his
clothes. Anna had pierced his ears at Monica's request, and Bobby wore
expensive diamond ear studs that were a gift from his sexy mentor.
He was two weeks from the conclusion of his dramatic rebirth, and
Monica was thrilled with his progress. "You're looking gorgeous, dear!" she
excitedly said, looking him over one evening. "Like a work of art yourself!"

"I can't believe it," he answered. "I never thought I'd lose that
weight. It feels so good to be thin, now...I feel so light on my feet."
"In a couple of weeks, you'll feel even better. Your body is going to
spend that time making fine adjustments and final changes. Oh, look at
you..." She examined his soft, perfect face. "Like an angel...a human work
of art. A sculpture by my own hands." Bobby looked at his delicate hands and
long, perfect nails. He walked over to a mirror and gazed upon his
reflection.

"I look so...different, Monica," he said, rubbing one hand upon his
cheek. He was angelic in appearance, and at the same time he was quite
androgynous. He saw that he was beginning to take on a somewhat curvy figure
beneath his clothes.
He continued. "A couple of days ago, a waiter at the Foresse mistook
me for a girl the whole time I was there. Called me 'Miss'...he even pulled
my chair out for me when I sat down."
"How did you feel about that?" Monica asked.
"I...I don't know. Kinda funny...I was too embarrssed to correct
him."
Monica walked up behind the boy and looked over his shoulder and into
the mirror. "Your body had to reach a null point from which to rebuild to
your final form. That's where you are now...sort of a non-sex between the
sexes. Remember what I told you? Most of your final appearance won't take
shape until the very last day." She smiled. "You're already a different
person, now, like I promised you would be."
"Yes," he smiled. "Thank you for that." He turned and hugged her.
"I want you to consider staying with me, honey, even after you've
become your exciting, new self. Please say you'll think about it."
"I will," he agreed happily. "I was hoping you'd ask."
The final two weeks passed with little further change in Bobby's body
-- until the last day.
Bobby arose that morning, flipped back the covers and groggily swung
his legs over the side of the bed. He had been sleeping very hard, and found
it difficult to awaken -- he was still half asleep as he slowly rose to his
feet. Through the deep fog of his semi-conscious state, Bobby became aware
of an odd motion in his body as he made his way slowly and a bit clumsily
toward the bathroom door. Walking past the dresser mirror, the image of a
stranger caught the corner of his eye. He jumped, startled, then gazed
blurily into the mirror.
Bobby struggled to focus his vision. Even through the misty curtain
of his uncertain eyesight he could see that, as he had slept, his body had
completed its miraculous transformation. Stunned, he could only stare. His
mouth hung open in shocked disbelief.
A total stranger stared back at him. He saw that he had, as Monica
had promised, become a perfect specimen of physical flawlessness. He had
gained a perfect shape --youthfully firm, toned, and very, very attractive.
Parts of his body had become more prominent while others had diminished, but
no part of his flesh seemed the same anymore. He recognized nothing of the
person in the mirror.

Bobby was no longer an effeminate boy. With one glance at the mirror,
he knew that never again would anyone look upon him and think of him as a
sissy. Ever. Then again, no one would ever think of him as Bobby, either.
As if in a trance, Bobby continued toward the bathroom door. His new
body felt surreal as it moved, each step a new adventure. He entered the
bathroom, found the huge lighted mirror there and turned it on. A dozen
brilliant makeup mirror bulbs flared to life, clearly revealing to his
suddenly-awakened eyes a sight that forced him fully alert.

Look at me -- how can this be me? I can't be this person! It's
impossible -- Monica! What did you do to me?
Bobby experimentally bounced upon his heels. As he did so, he watched
in the mirror as something pulled heavily and gelatinously against his body,
jiggling with aftershocks following each bounce. It was a sensation he had
never felt before. He found it curiously enjoyable, but knew instantly that
no part of his previous life could be his any longer.
He was an effeminate teenage boy no more.
He was no longer a teenage boy at all.
Bobby was a teenage girl.
His hands instinctively came up and found the immense mounds of warm
softness at his chest. For a eighteen year old girl, he was amazingly well
developed. His breasts were huge, perfect, and utterly feminine. Their great
size and weight was indescribable to him, but he knew that they were certainly
larger and more perfectly-shaped than any he had ever seen in men's magazines
-- he would later discover that his was a 34DD bustline --
Like Monica's.
He felt large, hard nipples against his palms as the roundness of his
new mammaries filled his hands to overflowing. He caressed the immensity at
his bosom and wondered at the sensation.
Bobby's new silken, glorious body was sexy, voluptuous, and youthfully
firm. He saw the extreme extent to which his figure was perfectly curved as
his disbelieving eyes followed the sensuous lines of his new shape. His waist
was much higher than before, and much, much smaller; his hips were wider than
before and much, much rounder. His buttocks were smooth, rounded, and larger
as well, giving him a most feminine derriere. Bobby's hips flowed freely and
gracefully into the curve of his thighs, and his eyes followed the line of his
figure all the way down the length of his silky, sexy legs.
My legs are gorgeous, he realized. I'm built for sex, now -- sex with
men -- His soft, flowing, dark brown hair had changed color -- it had become
a natural, deep auburn and had, overnight, grown even longer and fuller than
it had been before. The wide, full mane hung beyond his waist, tickling his
soft, rounded buttocks. He recognized its shiny, healthy hue, that of pure
spun copper intertwined with gossamer strands of ruby.
It was exactly the same color as Monica's.
Bobby's face now bore no resemblance to the one with which he had gone
to bed. It had taken on a velvety suppleness even beyond that it had known
before. His cheekbones were more prominent. His lips were fuller. His
eyelashes were luxuriously long and dark. His nose was a little smaller, and
its cute new shape ideally adorned the rest of his new face. His perfectly-
shaped eyebrows formed slight, curved arches that complimented his soft, green
eyes.

Green eyes, he realized -- my eyes were brown before. Now, they were
the same color --
-- as Monica's.
His delicate neck was long and slender. His ivory shoulders, now
silky smooth and much more narrow than they had been, were covered by his
cascading auburn hair. Bobby curiously placed his right hand against the left
side of his neck then slowly ran the hand along his shoulder, under his wealth
of gorgeous hair, and down his upper arm. The supple skin he felt was like
warm velvet.
His hands, too, had changed. They were smaller and more delicate, and
had taken on a babylike softness that made them seem as if they had been
pampered for a lifetime and had never once had to lift so much as a finger.
His long, femininely-shaped nails suited them ideally --
Bobby realized that his lovely nails were no longer coated with clear
nail enamel. Instead, he found himself wearing a thick, hard, glossy coat of
dark, pearlescent wine polish upon them. How had it gotten there? He knew
the color well for he had seen it almost every day for months --
-- on Monica.
He saw that his toenails, using the same polish, had also been done to
perfection. In stunned denial he just stared, speechless, into the bathroom
mirror. He could easily have been Monica's younger sister. Or her daughter.
Fearfully, he finally allowed himself to glance down at the reflection of his
naked crotch.
His penis and testicles were gone. In their place were the outer lips
of a lovely, perfect vagina, framed my a small, sparse grove of feminine,
auburn pubic hair.
"I'm...a girl...!" he finally vocalized in a stunned whisper. "I'm
really a girl..."
Still naked, Bobby ran back into the bedroom and out into the hallway.
"Monica?" he called frantically, realizing as he did so that his voice had
changed along with his body. A pretty, softly feminine sound emerged from his
lips with each word. "Look a t me...look what happened...!"
After searching the whole house, he realized his lady benefactor was
not there. Where could she be? As he passed the open door of Monica's
bedroom, he caught his reflection in her vanity's large, round mirror.
Transfixed, he walked quietly into the bedroom in order to take yet another
look at the nude young woman he had become.
A small note was stuck into the mirror's frame. Bobby walked closer
and pulled it down. It read --

Bobby,

Good morning, honey. By now your transformation is complete and
you've awakened as the lovely person you're always going to be. I hope you
like the new you. I'll be home soon. My things are yours --feel free to wear
my makeup and any of my clothes or jewelry you want to.
She knows --
I think you'd look especially nice in my white evening dress and
matching pumps.
He read the last line.
That's my girl. I love you --
-- Monica

She knows. Of course she does -- she made me this way. She knew from
day one that I was becoming a girl.
The generous array of feminine beauty products on the vanity table
called out to Bobby. He was drawn to them irresistably, as if by a magnet,
and nervously took a seat at the vanity. Looking into Monica's large,
illuminated makeup mirror, he again took stock of his new features. Something
within him had to know just how pretty his face and body could become. Bobby
knew he wanted to wear Monica's makeup, lingerie and clothes more than he had
ever wanted anything in his life.
I'm a woman -- I want to look like a woman, dress like a woman, feel
like a woman --
He picked up Monica's hairbrush and gently drew it through his long,
shiny hair, styling the sleep-mussed mane into an exquisite, attractive
coiffure. Its gently-curling fullness flowed upon his shoulders, and it
widely and sensuously framed his sweet face with its sweeping, lustrous shine.
In light of his new, feminine context, Bobby realized that Suzanne had been
doing his hair as a woman's from the beginning.
Monica's vanity was very well-stocked, with only the finest and most
expensive of cosmetics. While Bobby knew little about cosmetology, he was an
excellent artist -- and he proceeded as if his face were a canvas and the
cosmetics before him were artist's colors. He began with Monica's light,
ivory foundation, a step which, due to his flawless complexion, he could
easily have gone without. But he had sometimes watched Monica as she did her
face, and he wished to emulate, as nearly as possible, every step she herself
took in her own process of self-beautification. He did not want to miss any
part of the feminine ritual he had undertaken.
He picked up the woman's mascara and began to apply it, carefully
stroking the coated brush through his long lashes. Bobby quickly built up
both an upper and a lowerthickness, framing his eyes with a deep, seductive
curtain of silky black. He then appl ied black eyeliner, the line of which he
softened and blended outward as he had seen Monica do. Bobby watched in
fascination as his eyes, with little effort, transformed
into sensuous windows of pure, alluring femininity.
He artistically stroked on smoky eyeshadows, using his painting
techniques and adapting them well to the application of the color. The deep
shadow flowing out from the outside corners of his lashline created upswept
drama that was deeply sensuous. Happy with his eyes, he then brushed on blush
and contour, making the most of his fabulous cheekbones.
Nervous with excitement, Bobby picked up Monica's dark red lip liner
pencil and drew a perfect angel's bow outline around his full, sensuous lips.
He had but to fill in the line with lipstick and his facial metamorphosis
would be complete.
He selected a frosted wine lipstick that matched his nails and opened
the tube. He supposed that its deep, pearly color was the very one Monica was
wearing at the moment, for he recognized the Loreal shade as Monica's
favorite. Its softly perfumed fragrance was pleasantly feminine. He held the
lipstick ready before him, looking upon its pretty purple and gold case.

Twisting its base, the colored stick rose in the hollow shaft until it
had emerged far enough to be used. For Bobby, the lipstick tube had always
been a powerful symbol of utter womanhood. He had always loved watching
Monica use it as she looked into the little mirror of the compact she carried
in her purse -- the act seemed to define the state of being a woman in such a
simple, sexy way. A thrill rose in his throat.
His heart pounding, Bobby gently stroked the lipstick across his lips,
leaving its dark, pearlescent color upon them. He applied a heavy coat to
both his upper and lower lips, then pressed them together in that way he had
seen Monica and so many other women do. As he did so, a strange, intangible
female warmth filled him, comforted him, made him feel wonderful. It was as
if the woman he had become had suddenly taken up full residence within him.
Bobby closed the lipstick tube and set it back down. He looked at the
lovely girl in the mirror and smiled the pretty smile that was now his. He
wanted to sing and dance and shout his news to the whole world -- I'm so
pretty! I'm so happy! I'm a girl!
The young woman's face possessed a softly-sculpted vulnerability that
was totally devoid of any quality that might indicate the presence of even the
smallest degree of underlying masculinity. It was a face of willing
submission. A face of delicate beauty, to be loved and cherished --
-- a face of utter femininity, and of sheer, enchanting female
sexuality.
His visage was that of a seductress with sexy, crystalline eyes that
possessed an irresistible, bewitching sensuousness. Any man would melt upon
merely gazing into them, for they were the kind of eyes that haunted men's
dreams. His was now and forever a face of ethereal beauty, and his deep,
sparkling eyes, full, supple, delicious lips, and gorgeous auburn red hair
were those of someone to be fought over, owned, and treasured as a goddess.
Bobby had become a girl of exquisite perfection.
I can't stop now, he thought, compelled by the woman within him. I
have to see myself -- completed.

"I never thought I'd get to do this," he whispered under his breath as
he reached into Monica's jewelry box and withdrew a pair of large, dangly
hoop earrings that she often wore. Removing his ear studs, he slid the posts
of Monica's earrings through his pierced ears and pushed the stays into place.
He looked good in them. He followed the earrings by putting on
Monica's matching necklace, a fine gold chain with a tiny heart hanging from
it.
"Oh, Monica..." he whispered, in love with the thought of being such a
beautiful young woman. "Thank you...!"
Bobby rose and walked over to Monica's dresser. After checking a few
drawers, he found a silky pink strapless bra and panty set. He excitedly
slipped into Monica's lingerie, having little trouble with the bra's closure
hooks.
"Look at me," he said to himself. "I'm putting on a bra..." He stood
before the dresser mirror and adjusted the cups until he felt he had
accomplished a proper positioning of his new bustline. His soft, smooth,
hairless body looked and felt most natura
l in Monica's underthings.
"I need a bra," he happily realized. "I'm a full DD-cup, like
Monica."
He sat down on the edge of the bed and slid his smooth legs into the
pink silk panties. Their cool fabric felt soft and wonderful against his
skin. He then picked up a pair of
Monica's pantyhose, noticing as he did so that there was a tiny menstrual sta
in on its cotton crotch panel that had not come out when washed. The woman
within him drew pleasure from knowing that soon he would have his own period.
Again, the fit was excellent; the hosiery hugged every contour of his shapely
legs, giving them a sexy, silky sheen.
He slipped into a pink satin half-slip, letting it slide delicately
down his legs as he held them in a feminine, fashion model pose. Like the
panties he wore, its fabric also felt cool and pleasant against the sheer
nylon of his stockings.
Taking a deep breath, Bobby glided softly to the closet. He slid the
door open to reveal the huge walk-in space where Monica kept her extensive
wardrobe and walked in. He drank in the fragrance of woman's perfume that
permeated her things. Bobby walked along the row of womenswear which hung
there, trying to decide which of the designer fashions would best suit his
figure. He wanted a dress, definitely -- pants were men's things. He chose
the revealing white gown that Monica had recommended in her note to him -- he
had often enjoyed seeing it on Monica; reaching down, he then chose a matching
pair of Size 7, white high-heels from among the many pairs of dress pumps on
her rack.
Bobby carried the clothes over to the bed. He nervously stepped into
the delicate dress, pulled it up into place and zipped its back zipper -- and
was stunned.
It fit perfectly. His voluptuous, youthful figure was virtually
identical to Monica's, and the tightness of the dress allowed him to see just
how totally female his body had become. The plunging neckline and low back of
the dress revealed much, making his prominent cleavage and smooth shoulders
seem that much more feminine. Its hip-high slit skirt showed off his left leg
in all its delicious splendor. The slinky fabric embraced his waist, hips and
thighs, emphasizing his voluptuous curves and making his bustline seem even
more generous. Looking into the mirror, his ecstatic mind soaked in the sight
of his lovely form as the figure-hugging dress he wore clinged to him. The
fit was exact -- it was as if Monica's dressmaker had made the dress for him.
Standing, he looked down and easily slid his feet, one at a time, into
Monica's pumps. He knew that only the day before his feet would have been too
big for them, but once again the fit was perfect and his feet filled the sexy
women's shoes as if his own feet had broken them in. Despite their four-inch
spiked heels, walking in the pumps seemed to come as second nature to him. In
mere moments, he grew comfortable and familiar with the extreme angle at which
his ankles had to support his weight, and he loved what the shoes did for his
legs.
Back at the vanity, he selected a ladies' watch, a gold bracelet, an
ankle bracelet and a few other pieces of jewelry and adorned himself with
them. He sprayed himself lightly with Monica's expensive perfume.
Her glittering, diamond rings fit him perfectly. Her clothes fit him
perfectly. Her shoes fit him perfectly. He was fully dressed in Monica's
things, and nothing but her things. Bobby sat on the bed and looked across
the room at the pretty lady in Monica's full-length mirror. Watching himself,
he crossed his silken legs seductively and sat in the most feminine pose he
could imagine.

"Hello," he began demurely, as if he were meeting someone. He held
his hand gracefully outward as if it was to be kissed, and spoke with a
womanly cadence. "I'm Monica Leslie...it's so nice to meet you."

Click Here to Enter Ebony Fantasy

He squealed in delight, clapping like a little girl. Bobby loved the
soft, female aura of his new body so much that he regretted ever having been
male. He knew that he could go anywhere as he was now dressed and, of course,
be perfectly and naturally accepted as the lovely lady he had become. Bobby
wondered how it was going to feel to walk sexily down the street, knowing the
guys were all staring at his gorgeous new body. He wondered how it was going
to feel to be called 'Miss' and how it would feel to use the ladies' room --
And Bobby wondered how sex as a girl would be. Images of himself
naked in bed with a muscular man flooded his mind, and he smiled --
He picked up a purse that matched his shoes and paused before the
mirror once again, primping as if he were making a final check before a date.
As he bent over toward the vanity mirror, making tiny changes in the way his
hair swept over his forehead and upon his bare shoulders, he felt a desire.
It flared for an instant, then seemed to subside. But it would return --
Bobby had fun pretending he was Monica Leslie. He went downstairs,
consiously unaware that his walk had become the same fluid, sexy glide as
Monica's. As his high-heels clicked against the polished wood of the
stairsteps, he loved their sound, loved the ir snugness against his dainty
feet. He thrilled at the constant bounce of his breasts and the feel of the
tight dress against his long, gorgeous legs as they moved. Going into the
kitchen, he set his purse down onto the table and began to make coffee.
Bobby sat sideways at the kitchen table, legs crossed sexily. Reading
the morning paper, he dipped his fragile necklace in and out of his deep
cleavage and sipped his coffee from a mug labeled 'Monica' on one side and
'Sexy Lady' with a rose design on th e other. He thrilled at the sight of the
lipstick print he left on the mug with each sip.
Seeing an ad for an expensive new salon, Bobby picked up the cordless
phone and dialed.
"Le Femme Magnefique...this is Cindy," a voice responded.
"Hello...I'd like to make an appointment, please."
"Yes, Ma'am," the girl on the other end said. "How may I help you?"
"My name is Monica Leslie. I'd like to get my hair, nails and makeup
done. The works. Do you have an opening tomorrow?"
"Our full pampering includes a free leg wax...would you like that, as
well?"
Bobby glanced down at his slick, hairless legs. "No, thank you. I
won't be needing that."
"Would 2 PM be all right, Miss Leslie?"
"Fine, honey. I'll see you then." Bobby hung up the phone. He
smiled, enjoying life as Monica.
The doorbell rang.
Bobby was filled with a strange self-confidence he had not possessed
before, the confidence of a sexy woman who was ready to take on the world.
Across the living room, through the frosted glass of the front door, he could
see the figure of a man. The be ll rang again. Bobby walked over to the door
and, after taking a deep breath, pulled it open. The visitor was a phone
repairman, and Bobby found himself extremely attracted to the man's virile
form.
"Uh...hello," the man began, momentarily stunned by the girl's extreme
beauty. "Are you Monica Leslie?"
"Yes, I am," Bobby loved saying.
"You called yesterday? I'm here to install an upstairs line."
"Come in," Bobby said, pulling the door open wider. His sexy voice
was erotic. The man entered, looking over a yellow repair order.
"Actually, my roommate must have called," Bobby began. "She didn't
tell me you were coming..." the girl added, subconsciously using a seductive
tone. "I guess she told you where the phone goes."
"Says here...upstairs master bedroom, Miss Leslie."
"Please...call me Monica. I thought there was already a phone up
there...but, come on. I'll take you." Bobby led the man up the stairs. He
watched Bobby's rounded, voluptuous ass move from side to side beneath his
tight, white dress as his gorgeous legs swung upon his hips, a mere two feet
before the repairman's face. As the phone man soaked in the girl's perfume,
he felt his cock began to respond; he reached down and secretly adjusted the
bulge in his underwear so that his growing erection would be less noticable.
He followed the young woman into the bedroom and over to the far side of
the ornate canopy bed.
"There is a phone here," Bobby said, indicating the elegant telephone
on the bedside table. "Your orders must be wrong. I don't know if..."
Bobby's words died off in mid-sentence. A strange expression crossed his face
as the odd sensation returned.
"Are you okay, Monica?" the repairman asked, concerned. Bobby sat on
the bed, arm's length from the still-standing man.
Bobby had not merely assumed a woman's flesh. He also had a woman's
mind and a woman's deepest desires, but to an intensified degree.
Instinctively and emotionally, Bobby was excessively female. Irresistable
cravings within him claimed him as his new pussy grew hot, wet, and anxious to
be filled. His nipples became hard. His breathing grew lustfully deep.
Simply having the repairman in the same room was driving Bobby crazy --

His new hormones raging, Bobby was like a mindless bitch in heat. His
new female libido ruling him, he found himself reaching out to hurriedly
unbuckle the belt of the gorgeous man standing before him. In seconds, to the
man's delight, the girl had unfastened and unzipped his pants and was sliding
them down the repairman's hard, hairy thighs. The sight of the straining
bulge in the man's tight underwear set Bobby's insatiable new hunger afire.
His breathing grew even deeper and more rapid.
"Look, Monica..." the man began, "I think we should..."
"I think we should have sex!" Bobby finished.
"What?"
The moan of a desperately horny woman leapt from Bobby's lips, his
voice heavy with lustful excitement --
"I want you to fuck my pussy..."
Bobby squirmed as he reached behind for the zipper of his dress. He
could feel the insides of his bra's tight cups against the soft skin of his
breasts and felt the hot wetness of his hungry, dripping vagina. As the man
watched the beautiful girl drop h er dress, hose and panties to the floor, his
erection rapidly swelled to full size.
Bobby managed to unhook his bra and let it, too, fall to the floor,
exposing the enormous bounty that now graced his chest. The weight of his
breasts was exciting, their soft form erotic. Their enormous, hard nipples
cried out to be sucked.
The repairman's heart pounded with the sight of the bare breasts
before him, both his for the taking. He reached out and caressed Bobby's tits
with both hands, pressing them together and playing with their huge nipples.
Bobby leaned up and kissed the man, probing his mouth with a lustful tongue.
"Do you like my tits?" Bobby teasingly asked.
"Oh, yeah..." the aroused man replied. "They're perfect..."
"Suck them...ooooooh...suck my tits...suck my nipples..." the woman
begged/commanded. The repairman knelt down and put his mouth to the girl's
erect nipples, one at a time, sucking them, squeezing them, and gently chewing
them while Bobby played with the man's hair. The man kneaded the huge breasts
with both hands as he sucked, his shaven whiskers tickling Bobby's delicate
skin. For several minutes, Bobby held the man's head against his bosom, head
back, eyes closed as the aroused man continued his erotic nursing.
"I want to see your cock...show me your cock," Bobby desired. The man
rose to his feet, standing right in front of the girl. Bobby stripped the man
of his underwear immediately, leaving a huge, granite penis jutting
majestically outward from his naked groin. Bobby grabbed the huge cock
excitedly with both hands, running his delicate fingers and soft palms
repeatedly along its warm, majestic length as he savored its great
size.
"Its so big..." the girl moaned. "So long...so
thick...so...delicious-looking..." Bobby leaned forward and kissed the head of
the erect cock, leaving a perfect lipstick print upon its tip. "You must be
very proud..."
The repairman excitedly pulled his white T-shirt off over his head,
leaving him totally naked and exposing the forest of curly black hair upon his
chest. He had picked Bobby's pink silk panties up off of the floor -- holding
them to his face, he deeply sniffed their crotch.
"I love the smell of pussy..." he moaned.
"I love the taste of cock..." Bobby smiled lustfully. Still sitting
on the bed, he leaned forward once more and hungrily took the man's rigid
penis into his mouth. The act felt right, felt natural to Bobby. The man
held Bobby's head against his crotchas the girl hungrily mouth-pumped the
organ. After a few minutes of sucking and licking and loving the warmth and
taste against his tongue, Bobby sensed that the time had come. He pulled the
straining organ from between his lips, licked its head like a lollypop a few
times, then kissed its tip one final time. Then, after quickly slipping
his feet back into his still-warm pumps, Bobby laid lusciously back onto the
bed.
Bobby spread his legs wide, inviting the man into his steaming pussy
with an alluring gesture of his hands. The repairman, mere putty in the hands
of the young seductress, quickly climbed atop Bobby, mounting him as a male
sexually mounts a female.
"Put it in...hurry...I want to feel it...!" Bobby moaned, making the
man even hotter and harder. Eyes closed in delicious anticipation, the
nymphomaniacal girl's bent, widespread knees were pushed even farther apart by
two powerful hands. Bobby then felt the blunt, insistent head of the man's
huge, veined cock press against the entrance to the glorious, sexual orifice
'she' had not before possessed.
There could be no turning back, for the massive man had taken total
control and the new woman, trapped beneath him, her legs spread wide, could
but yield to his blazing, primalurges. As the muscular phone man pressed his
hips forward, his iron erection slid wetly into the girl and Bobby knew an
incredible sensation she should never have known. It was the primal, female
sensation of having the huge, hard, and unstoppable cock of a powerful man
driven deep into one's vagina while one was helplessly pinned to a mattress by
the weight of the man's hard, sweaty flesh.
The repairman used short, insistent strokes to press farther into her,
and with each push Bobby winced in pleasure/pain. Her vagina was being
stretched to accomodate the huge cock, and the man continued to drive deeper
until their pubic hair crushed toge ther and the repairman could feel that he
had pushed all nine inches of his cock into her as deeply as it would go.
Braced above the girl on locked arms, his hips nestled fully into the cradle
of her widespread thighs, his pelvis grinding hard against her s. Bobby's
face was a picture of sheer female erotic joy as the man's cock reached an
incredible depth within her.
"It's in, Monica. All the way...how's it feel?"
"Ooooooooh, yes!" the girl cried out in unbridled ecstasy as the hard
penis within her filled her whole world. "Pump it...oooooooh...that feels
so...it's so biiiiig...in and out..." The man lustfully began to pump his
member in and out of her, feeling the tight walls of her virgin pussy around
his stiff cock as his own sexual excitement rose. The girl held her legs high
and wide in the air, her high heels dancing with each thrust of the man's
cock.
Her pussy was tight and exotic, and it joyfully embraced its male
counterpart with ripples of spasmodic energy. Bobby danced inside, her mind
embracing the fact that she had a pussy filled to overflowing with the
engorged penis of the stranger atop her. She clamped her vaginal muscles
around his pumping rod as tightly as she could and playfully ran her dainty
fingers through the man's chest hair.
"Ooooooooh...I'm having sex with...the phone man..." Bobby sexily
squealed, smiling lustfully as she recalled all of the unbelievable Penthouse
letters she had read that spoke of similar situations. "These things really
do happen..."
"Damn straight, baby," the stranger said, breathing heavily with the
exertion of his passion. "Want me to pull out before I come?"
"No! Don't you dare..." Bobby moaned in feminine pleasure. "I want to
feel you come inside me..." the girl begged.
Monica walked into the house through the kitchen door and set her
purse on the table next to the one Bobby had left there. Recognizing the
other purse as one of her own, she knew it had not been there when she left.
She saw that the morning newspaper also on the table was open to the fashion
section. Spying her half-empty coffee mug, Monica picked it up and spotted
the lipstick print on its lip. A woman had been sitting there. Thrilled, she
knew exactly who that woman had been. Monica then noticed a sound and tipped
her head up slightly, toward its apparent source.
She heard squeaking bedsprings, punctuated by feminine moans of
pleasure. Monica smiled and set the coffee cup down.
"That's my girl," she said happily.
The phone man lowered himself and lied flat upon Bobby, pressing his
chest against hers as he continued to hump her for all he was worth. They
shared a wet, deep kiss, their tongues lovingly exploring the rooves of each
other's mouths. After a few moments they broke into a series of gentle kisses
and the man pulled away, laying his head beside hers. Bobby turned to kiss
him lightly on the ear.
Bobby loved having the man's weight against her breasts and stomach.
She reached up to caress the man's sweaty back, encouraging him to increase
his frantic pumping. Bobby slid her hands down, reaching as far as she could
down the man's hard, hairy butt ocks, and roughly massaged his steel ass with
her soft hands. The stranger responded, pumping harder with each thrust of
his hips as he moaned into the pillow beside Bobby's head. His deep,
masculine voice reverberated in Bobby's ears.
"Mmmmm...yeah, baby...ohhhhh..."
"Ooooohhh..." Bobby murmured, her dark, glossy lips forming a tight,
sexy 'o.' "It's so...so good..." A further shock of pleasure/pain swept her
as the cock inside her drove deeper, and as she bit her lip she begged for
more. "Fuck me, Mr. Phone Ma... fuck me harder..." As the words grew loud
enough, ringing softly in her pierced ears, she realized that her voice was
not merely feminine but was powerfully sultry and seductive -- the kind of
steamy music that poured from the lips of sex kittens and brought men
immediately to erection. It was a female melody that could make men hard just
by reading the phone book.
The man responded, picking up his already frantic rhythm and pounding
his cock deeper into Bobby's tight, wet pussy. "Yeah, baby...anything you
say...I'm yours..."
"Tell me...I'm pretty...call me by my name..." she asked.
"You're gorgeous, Monica...you're the most beautiful girl I've ever
seen...I mean it..."
"Tell me...my pussy...feels good around...your cock..."
"Oh, yeah...it's so good...sweet pussy, Monica...sweet pussy...fuckin'
you feels so good, Monica..."
Then, along with the wet slap of their genitals, the heavy sound of
their breathing, and the rhythmic squeak of the bouncing mattress beneath her,
Bobby became aware of the sound of someone else in the room. She looked
toward the door.
The beautiful Monica had walked in to find the naked, glistening
lovers in her bed. There Bobby was, a young woman now, dressed only in white
pumps with her legs spread high in the air and a naked man between them who
was pumping away for all he was worth. Monica was so happy she wanted to cry,
but she maintained a more proper facade.
"Young man...!" she firmly began, "I leave for an hour, and while I'm
gone you fuck my daughter in my own bed...?!"
Staring at the woman, the phone man stopped his furious pumping,
fearing her wrath. She could have him fired --

"Hi, Mama," Bobby said innocently, a huge smile on her lovely lips.
She played her part to the hilt. "Oh, you were right about sex...it feels so
good..."
Monica continued. "You know, she's only eighteen! You're fucking a
child!"
The man had been fooled by Bobby's voluptuous body, one that seemed at
least twenty-one. He froze, aware that he could be arrested if the girl's
mother chose to press charges. "I...I didn't know..." he pleaded.
"That's no excuse...!" Monica paused for dramatic effect, then
suddenly smiled widely, seeing his panic. "But I'll forget I ever saw
this...if you let me watch my little girl becoming a woman!"
"I...you mean she's a...you mean you want to watch us..."
"She's a virgin. Is she a good lay?" Monica asked the man in a deep,
sexy voice. "She should be."
"She's...she's great!" he replied, his breath coming in deep gasps as
he resumed his wild fucking of the girl.
"Good," Monica responded with a smile. She looked approvingly upon
Bobby's excessively feminine form and saw herself at eighteen -- a sweet girl
ripe and ready for sexual adventure. "Is it good having his cock inside you,
honey?"
"Mmmmm..." Bobby moaned, filled with the physical joy of being female.
She smiled widely at Monica, her pretty lips gleaming with the wetness of the
lipstick she wore. She closed her bewitchingly beautiful eyes and drifted on
a sexual sea of female fulfillment, floating with the bounce of the mattress
beneath her as the man continued his animalistic ravaging of the gorgeous
teenage redhead.
"He's a real hunk, Monica," Monica commented, playing along, reaching
out to feel the hardness of one of the man's sweaty biceps as he lied atop the
girl. She then rested her cool hand upon his tensed ass as it bounced up and
down, his cock ramming deep into the pussy Monica had given Bobby.
"Oooooh...I'd like to get a little of that myself."
Bobby's huge, dancing breasts moved upon her chest with each pounding
thrust of the man's penis, and Monica watched them with a satisfied eye.
"Such lovely tits you have, honey..." she said, reaching out to caress one of
them. "They're absolutely perfect."
Bobby, in the throes of sexual ecstasy, could only smile. She felt so
alive. Having the man between her legs felt natural and was incredibly
exciting. She could not imagine how she had ever lived for all those years
with the ugly, ridiculous penis that had once been a part of her body.
Bobby's clitoris was on fire with an electric pleasure she had never
dreamed existed. Her orgasm swelled, spreading into her entire lower abdomen
as its climax grew near. Her breaths came in greedy gulps --
Monica smiled widely, standing back to watch her daughter's first
orgasm.
The repairman suddenly rammed his cock deep into the girl and stopped
pumping. His semen was a split second away from exploding into the woman.
Bobby felt the man's thighs tense up atop hers --
-- and his come spurted into Bobby, showering her deep with his
steaming, creamy seed. At that same instant Bobby's female orgasm ignited
every nerve in her body and set her afire with the blazing passion of being a
woman. She screamed out in her feminine squeal with the orgasm's intensity;
her vaginal muscles locked tight and a new sensation swam among her senses.
"Ohhhhhhhh...yes......! I'm...I'm......!"
A flood of hot vaginal juices poured from Bobby's electrified pussy,
bathing both the bedsheets and the man's crotch with the steaming fluid. Eyes
tightly sealed, Bobby gripped her wondrous tits, pinching her long, hard
nipples with her polished nails as the orgasm within her reached its peak.
She cried out, sparkles filling her closed eyes.
As their orgasms began to fade, the lovers collapsed into a sweat-
soaked heap of erotic flesh.
"I...I never had sex like that before...never..." the man said, out of
breath. Bobby laid quietly beneath him, lightly stroking his back until he
pulled out of her. After a few minutes, the repairman dressed and gathered
his equipment. Monica escorted him downstairs and let him out of the house.
Bobby, a smile of extreme satisfaction on her pretty lips, was still
lying naked upon the bed when her benefactress returned a few moments later.
The woman sat beside her, stroking her long, shiny hair. "How was it, honey?"
Monica asked softly.
"It feels like...like he's still inside me."
Monica smiled. "That's normal, for now. Your vagina will stretch as
you use it."
"That note you left me...you knew. From the beginning...you knew I
was becoming a woman. You wanted me to put on your things...wanted me to have
sex with that man..."
"Of course, dear. I sent him here. I knew that this morning your
metamorphosis from caterpiller into beautiful butterfly would be
complete...and I wanted to give you the opportunity to fully enjoy your new
body." She looked over the girl's immense bustline and soft, sexy curves.
"I'd say you turned out extraordinarily well..."
"Why didn't you tell me I was turning into a girl?"
Monica continued to run her fingers lightly through Bobby's hair. "If
I had told you that the only way I could change you meant your becoming a
girl, you would have said 'no' and you'd still be the same, sad person you
were before. Even if you had wante d to become a girl, your male pride would
have forced you to tell me you didn't. I had to do something to help
you...and this was what I could do." She paused. "There's so much I want to
teach you now...there are so many fine points to living life as awoman." She
continued to play with the girl's gorgeous auburn hair, fussing over her.
"All the little things. And one day, you'll find yourself a nice young man
and settle down with him somewhere."
Mental pictures flashed in Bobby's mind. She would be the bride at
her wedding. She would spend her married, adult life having loving sex with
her husband.
Monica sighed, amazed at the completeness of Bobby's transformation.
The former boy was every inch a girl, from her lovely face to her slender
ankles. "From now on, feel free to wear my things anytime you want. I'll bet
you were lovely in that dress." She indicated the heap of white on the floor.
"You may not want to raid my closet any more, though...your things are just as
pretty." She clasped her hands together in delight.
"My things?"
"Your new bedroom, right next to mine...a young lady's room...has a
closet full of gorgeous dresses and sexy high heels. Your dresser is filled
with all of the unmentionables a girl could need."
Bobby brought her soft, pampered hands up and gently lifted on the
undersides of the rounded, feminine mounds that protruded youthfully outward
from her chest. Squeezing gently, she enjoyed the firm suppleness that
belonged to that living tissue common only to women. She loved the sensation
of feeling her hands against her warm bosom as they cupped the new, amazing
roundness she had there.
"These...feel nice." she said.
Bobby sat up and slipped back into the satin bra she had worn earlier.
Her generous mammaries pressed against each other as they exceeded the
restraining confines of her straining cups; the upper contours of her breasts
with their prominent, fleshy cleavage and its distinctive vertical line made a
cry of joy build within Bobby's throat. The little gold heart still hanging
from her delicate gold necklace had nestled into her deep valley, held snugly
on both sides by the soft flesh of her inner breasts.
"Oh, honey, they're beautiful," Monica said, glowing with pride for
Bobby as she looked happily at the girl's new bustline. "I'd say you're a
good D-cup, at least...maybe even bigger...oh, you're so lucky! You may even
be a little better endowed than I am -- looks like that bra of mine you're
wearing could stand to be a little roomier."
Bobby could only stare down at her breasts in joyful silence. Her
mammaries were huge and wonderful signposts of her new gender, shouting out
the fact of her womanhood for all the world to hear. Their weight pulling
against her chest was an exciting, continual reminder of the glorious fact
that she was now that which she had secretly longed to be. She couldn't wait
to show off her voluptuous tits on the beach, her body covered with the glossy
sheen of body oil, her breasts held precariously within the straining confines
of a string bikini -- bouncing as she walked the fluid, sensuous walk of a
flirtaceous woman.
She stood slowly and turned again toward the mirror. Her reflection
was that of a luscious redhead with that intangible feminine aura and air of
female self-identity common to all beautiful women. She glowingly radiated
the sexual confidence of a seductive woman who knew just how to use her body
for the entrapment of men, and knew how to please them, and herself, once she
had lured them into her bed.
In short, she had been recreated in Monica's image.
Monica sat and looked at her creation proudly. "You're complete now,
honey. Everyone begins female in the womb...I've returned you to your true
sex. You're like me."
She could barely believe it. Transfixed upon her reflection, Bobby
lightly began to caress that part of her right breast that was visible above
the silky cup of her bra. "Why...why do I look so much like you? I mean...I
have your figure and your hairco lor...and my face even looks a lot like
yours, now...like there's a strong family resemblance between us."
Monica rose and stood beside her, her gentle hands upon her shoulders
in reassurance. "Honey...the potion I gave you was very, very
special...something my dear, brilliant husband created before he died. He was
a chemist...a genius. You see, we could never have children, and I did so
want a daughter. The pink elixir was his answer to the problem -- a miracle
drawn from my genetic makeup and his."
"What were you going to do with it?"
"Well, our original intent was to adopt a girl and give the potion to
her, which would, in essence, make her our real daughter. Our bloodlines
would continue through her. But my husband died before we were able to start
our family, and I never quite had the courage to do it without him. Not until
you came along..."
"But I was a boy...?!"
"It didn't matter. Any young girl taking the elixir would simply
become a different girl...but any boy taking it would accomodate its effects
by completely changing sex as his genetic makeup was rewritten. I knew that
by giving you the elixir I could gi ve you a new life and get the daughter I
wanted so badly at the same time. You were the first and only one ever to
take it...those twelve doses were all there was."
Bobby looked down upon her soft flesh, astounded anew by the miracle
the elixir had wrought in her formerly male body. "So, I look like you
because..."
"Because you are my daughter. The elixir created a whole new, female
DNA structure in you...my family history flows in your veins, now. Every cell
in your body carries a girl's genetic pattern. Your chromosomes are double-X
now, just like mine. Like every girl's."
Bobby put her hands to her head, overwhelmed by it all. "I love this
body...but all this has happened so fast..."

"What's important is that you're a young lady, now. A young,
beautiful lady. With a new life...a happy life...the life I promised you."
Bobby tried to look down at her crotch, but found she could not see
beyond her breasts and their smooth cleavage. Monica smiled anew, enjoying
watching the girl's self-discovery. "You've known having a man inside you,
now...you've acted fully and sexual ly as a female. Part of the elixir's
effect is that sex will always be wonderful for you...even better than what
you just experienced. You'll always experience intense orgasms, every time
you have sex. Sometimes more than one."
The thought made Bobby realize just how different life as a woman was
always going to be. There was a great chasm separating the sexes, a chasm
Bobby had impossibly leapt over, leaving manhood utterly behind. She had
irreversibly and joyfully joined the ranks of womanhood. She thought of the
girls in the photo layouts of the men'smagazines she used to read, and the
thought that she was just like those girls filled her throat with a thrill
that made her unable to draw a breath --a sexy smile came to he
r luscious lips as she realized what being just like those girls, in every
way, now meant.
"So, I'm going to have a period each month," she said. Monica
detected a note of excitement in her voice.
"Of course, honey. All young women do...that's how your body reminds
you each month that, well, that you're a girl."
She mouthed thoughts she already knew to be fact. "What if I get
pregnant, now that I've had sex with that man? He came inside me, without
wearing a condom or anything..."
"You won't, honey. Your first ovulation won't happen for a couple of
weeks yet. And believe me, sweetheart," Monica commented, "every red-blooded
young man will want to make love to you. You'll have to be choosy...as
tempted as you may be, you shouldn' t just spread your legs for any boy who
wants it."
"Ohhhh," Bobby pouted. "All right..." Monica watched Bobby smile and
caress her stomach.
Monica had kept her promise. Bobby had indeed begun a whole new life,
one in which she would be happy and very attractive. It had never occurred to
her, when Monica first told her she could help her, that it would wind up
being men whom she would so strongly attract -- but that prospect was now
enjoyable, even exciting. She realized that she liked being this woman far
more than she had ever liked being that boy named Bobby.
She continued to caress her breast, intoxicated by the sight of her
long, dark, polished nails against the milky skin of her ample bosom. "When
did you do my nails?"
"Last night, as you slept. Your body was sleeping deeply so all of
its physical energies could be put toward the massive changes taking place. I
gave you three coats of polish and dried them hard."
"They're so pretty..."
Bobby turned toward Monica and looked into her eyes. "Why, what is
it, Bobby?" Monica asked, searching for signs of sadness in her face.
"I wanted this," Bobby said, welling up with happy tears.
"Yes, sweetheart," Monica agreed. "You did. I noticed last month
that you'd begun shaving your legs...you wouldn't have done that if you
weren't enjoying it. And what lovely legs you have, dear," she observed,
looking down at the perfect shape of Bobby's silken calves. "Like mine. They
were always my strongest feature. Shapely legs and slender ankles like ours
are...well...
"I'll put it this way...don't be surprised when men just stand there
and watch you walk away. With the right swivel in your hips, those legs of
yours will leave erections in your wake everywhere you go. Like mine do. And
teasing the boys is so much fun!" Bobby laughed as Monica held her small,
feminine hand and looked at her long, pretty nails. Their glossy polish
danced in the light. "And if you hadn't wanted these long nails, you would
never have allowed me to have Anna give them to you."
She had Bobby pegged. "You're right," the former boy admitted. "The
longer my nails got, the more I loved it. You have no idea how many times I
wanted to ask Anna for screaming red nail polish...but I didn't have the
nerve. I saw myself growing more feminine all along...and I tried to convince
myself that I didn't want that. But I did."
She looked into Monica's sensuous eyes. "I never told you this...I
didn't dare...but ever since I moved in here, I've wanted to be you." The
woman smiled, flattered. Bobby looked down at the sides of her shapely legs.
"And you're right..." she admitted, a little surprised that Monica had
noticed, "I've been shaving my legs for two months now. And my underarms. It
made me feel, well, as if I were you."
"You really wanted to be me?"
Bobby nodded. "Time for true confessions, I guess. Sometimes, when
you weren't home, I lounged around the house in your clothes -- at least the
ones that fit me. I know it's strange for a boy to have a woman as the person
he'd most like to be, but it's true. I didn't pick a sports hero or an
astronaut. I wanted to emulate the kindest, most wonderful person I'd ever
known...a beauty pageant winner. A woman. You're my hero, Monica."
"It isn't strange, sweetheart. The change in your sexual identity
began when you took your first sip of the elixir. Since day one, you've
become increasingly feminine, both physically and mentally. Your wants and
needs became those of a girl, even before your body reached completion. It
was natural for you to choose a woman as your role-model...all girls do.
Something in you already knew that a woman was what you'd be." She took
Bobby's hand and squeezed it gently. "And I'm honored. I just hope you
realize what a special young lady you are."
The girl smiled, her glossy lips catching the light. Her lovliness
warmed Monica's heart. "I need a new name," Bobby said.
"Charissa."
"Charissa?"
Monica looked down. "I decided that if I ever had a daughter, that's
the name I'd give her."
Reaching out and hugging Monica tightly, Bobby happily announced,
"From now on, I'm 'Charissa Marilyn Leslie.' You named me today. Bobby's
gone. Promise you'll never call me anything else."
Tears appeared in the beautiful eyes of both women as they joyfully
entered their new mother-daughter relationship. "I promise, Charissa," Monica
pledged as they broke the hug, "and I want you to live here, with me, for as
long as you'd like."
"I'd love to, Mama," Charissa answered, smiling and kissing Monica
gently and lovingly on the cheek. "Until I get married. I'm so happy here."
"You'll need a few things. I'll get you a new birth certificate, a
driver's license, and your own credit cards by the end of the week, Charissa.
My accountant will arrange for your social security number. I'm going to make
sure you never want for anything."
That evening, alone in her new, femininely-adorned bedroom, the naked
Charissa smiled as she watched herself in the room's full-length mirror. Her
smooth, shaven legs were bare and shiny, and she slipped her delicate feet
into a pair of red pumps from he r own closet. Her vital statistics had
blossomed to 38-24-36, which, combined with her height of 5'7" and her weight
of 119 pounds, gave her a voluptuous figure well beyond the dearest hopes of
most girls.
As Charissa stood admiring her body in the mirror, wearing only her
shiny high-heels and playing with her long, auburn red hair, breasts firm and
erect, she blew kisses to herself and did her best imitation of Marilyn
Monroe.
Bobby had been an artist, and a gifted one. But Charissa herself was
a work of art now, a thing of beauty to be enjoyed by others --
-- primarily by men. Charissa spread her legs wide before the mirror
to expose her sparse, auburn pubic hair and, cradled beneath, her new vagina.
She reached down and spread its soft, pink lips with her slender fingers,
adoring the female sexuality it stood for. It was wonderful to see it there;
she felt complete and happy for the first time in her life.
For nearly half an hour she soaked in the feel of the deeply feminine
silkiness of her milky skin, the softness of her luscious breasts, the sight
of her large, hard nipples, the shiny smoothness of her silken legs, the
suppleness of her kissable lips, the sensuous beauty of her alluring eyes and
the inviting folds of her warm, wanting pussy --
Charissa understood for the first time what a powerfully sexual being
she was. Her body would always wield an irresistibly seductive influence over
any man she wished to rule. She had never had sex as a man, but now, more
than anything, she needed to have sex with men, needed to feel them inside
her, and longed to submissively yield her flesh to their every lustful desire.
Her life had come ablaze, a fantasy of erotic intensity and fiery adventure.

Months before, Bobby had entered Monica's house an unhappy boy.
Miraculously, he had forever become a gorgeous new she -- and Charissa wholly
loved her new life as Monica's daughter.
She glanced at the phone, thought of the man she had had inside her,
and smiled seductively. She wanted more sex, with another man -- with all men
--

Sitting on her soft bed, she dialed. After a few rings, someone
answered. "Hello, Domino's...?" the nude and beautiful Charissa asked sexily,
fingering her clitoris. "Is that tall, blond delivery man of yours working
tonight...?"