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"You should wear a shorter skirt," I said to Cris.

If looks could kill, her look at me at that time would have put me six feet under.

I tried to explain. "You always wear a long jean skirt. I'd like to let everyone see your nice legs. The only girls I know that wear long denim skirts in the summer are those going to St. James." St. James was a fundamentalist Christian girls' school, and Cris was definitely not one of those. They had some sort of strict dress code that was enforced even when school was out.

I was 17; my girlfriend was almost 19—an older woman. We had been going together for about six months, and I had never seen her wear regular jeans, a short jean skirt, any other kind of pants, or any other kind of skirt. In fact, I had not even seen her in a denim dress. Her skirts varied in details (some had pockets; others had belt loops; one had a fly and looked like it had been made out of a pair of jeans), but all were long, blue and made of denim.

Modesty wasn't necessarily her thing, either. She had had her belly-button pierced, and often liked to show it once spring came. Every shirt or sweatshirt she ever wore had some vulgar or political message printed on it. On the back of her right leg she had an up-side-down American flag tattooed just above the hemline of her skirts.

Cris was good in the sack, however, as I found out on our first date. She was able to do things I couldn't describe, but they left me wanting to come back for more. She shared an apartment with a foreign girl who came from one of those liberated northern European countries where having sex was no bigger deal than taking a shower.

"Tomorrow," she said, "you will learn why I wear only long denim skirts."

I couldn't wait to find out. If only I had known...



About ten in the morning, I heard the horn on her car squeal (you couldn't call it a honk). Her car was one of those European things whose name I couldn't pronounce. It had a stick shift, and she had tried to teach me how to drive a car with a clutch. I found it very tricky, and decided to stick with automatics. It didn't really matter, since I had already been caught drunk driving and would have to wait till I was 21 before I could get a license.

We kissed as I fastened my seat belt. She had on a long jean skirt that I hadn't seen before. This one was different because it had a zipper that went all the way around just below the knees. I figured that it would let her shorten her skirt and show the world those elusive legs. I was wearing some tan shorts, and said to her that I hoped this zippered skirt would mean I'd see as much of her legs as the was seeing of mine. She smiled and said nothing.

We headed out in the country, and it was almost noon when we turned onto a narrow dirt road and headed up a small hill that partly surrounded a quaint little lake. Nobody else was around. "I was hoping you'd show off your legs where others could see them," I said. I wanted them to be a little jealous. Cris glared at me.

We ate a little lunch that she had packed for us, then sat together on the ground. We started kissing, and I began to play with the zipper on her skirt. Maybe she would at least drive back home with her skirt in the short mode. She was a little shy about her legs, though I didn't know why. She had me take off my shoes, and then hers. But she would not let me unzip her.

She then stood over my feet so that I could no longer see them under the hem of her skirt. She then unzipped her skirt. However, rather than leaving her in a shorter skirt, it turned out that more of the skirt was folded up underneath. She sat down, then stretched the excess portion of the skirt over my knees and on up to my waist. Things were getting weird.

"Close your eyes," she said, and I did. I then found myself experiencing every fantasy imaginable. I was having sex with her, with her and a friend, then by myself--all at the same time. We were trying every position imaginable--and then some. We were in her car, in the lake, up in the tree, at my house, in her apartment, with her roommate. Each experience was different.

I then "woke up"--although I had never really been asleep. "Feel your right leg," she said. I did--and it had melded into her right leg. My foot was somewhere around her hip. I wiggled my toes, and Cris giggled. I couldn't feel my left leg, so I put my hand down to where it should have been--only nothing was there. I started to panic, but Cris told me to relax, and I did.

The fantasies were different this time. My eyes were open, but they were just as real, just as vivid. I was now experiencing sex from both the male and female points of view--at the same time. I could feel myself enter Cris just as I felt a penis enter my vagina. Again, we did it in different places and in different positions--including up-side-down. Then, I things cooled off and I was "awake" again. I felt for my left leg, and it was now there--even though it was melded into Cris's left leg. I tickled her vagina as she tickled mine. I felt for my right leg, and it was gone, but I didn't panic this time.

I lay back and felt even newer and stranger sensations--pregnancy, childbirth, the eruption of breasts on my chest, the shriveling of my penis, a monthly period. I knew I was becoming a woman; was Cris becoming what I once was? I became aware again, and Cris was beside me. We were lying side-by-side on the ground. I felt for my left leg, but it was very short, making a short bridge with Cris's right leg. My right leg and her left were similarly attached, but the connection was necessarily much longer.

"Go potty," Cris said, and I did so. "Now, take a crap." I again did so, without ever going anywhere. I left no mess, but I understood why I had to do what I did. It was to help me feel what going to the toilet was like for a girl or woman. Urinating was not too surprising, but doing a number two surprised me a bit, as I thought it would be exactly the same whether I was a man or a woman.

We were still "hooked" together as Chris began to explain to me what had happened, and what was going to happen. "You are now a 21-year-old woman. You have your driver's license and a car--with an automatic transmission." She grinned.

"Why?" I asked.

"I am not a witch," she said, "though you would probably want to describe me as one. I have powers that I am commissioned to share with you. You must be female to do so. Soon, you will have the opportunity to do what I have done to another person-- and you must do so. You will know when it is time. This skirt I am wearing was my signal. You may get something similar."

I looked up at the sky. I couldn't feel my legs yet, though I could somehow tell my right was no longer attached to her left.

"But why did you choose me for this--"

"I didn't choose you. You were chosen by those with powers greater than mine. That's all I can say."

I could feel my right leg, which was awkwardly folded underneath my left, which was still attached to Cris's right. The skirt didn't let me stretch out my right leg.

"Your legs are being feminized. I understand they will be quite pretty."

"But no one will see them," I said.

"Sure they will."

"But won't I be wearing a long skirt, like yours?"

"No, what you wear depends on what you were wearing when you were changed. I was wearing long jeans the day I was changed over. You're wearing shorts, so you will be in a short skirt. One good thing about this is you don't have to figure out what you're going to wear each day. Of course, it also means you won't get to shop for the latest fashions."

I felt my left leg separate from hers and begin to stretch out. We rolled around on the grass until we were at opposite ends of her skirt. She was at the waist, while I was at the hem, which had become a second waist. "Push on my feet with yours," she said, and I did. The skirts pulled apart, and Cris was in another ankle-length denim skirt, as was I.

"I thought I was going to be in a shorter skirt," I said.

"You'll get a few days to get used to being in a long skirt before you go out in a mini-skirt," she said. "Your voice will also change some over the next few days."

"Why didn't it change with everything else?" I asked.

"It's a bit trickier than the other changes," she said. I found that hard to believe.

"Have you done this before?" I asked.

"My roommate came over as a young man..."

"What will his--her family think?"

"They won't know."

"I think they'll be able to figure it out--"

"No, let me explain. You see, you have changed dimensions. Your family and friends will think you were always a girl or a woman once you've shifted. You are now in a universe in which you were born and raised as a girl."

"Okay," I said slowly as we gathered up our picnic stuff and headed back to her funky little car.



We got home and I went to my room to change my clothes, only to find I couldn't do so. When my parents got home, they were not surprised to see me female, but thought there was something wrong with my voice. So, I had to take throat lozenges for the next few days until they decided my voice was normal. It didn't sound all that different to me, but it was definitely female.

Cris came to see me every day and help me get acquainted with my history, which was similar to what it had been as a boy. There were a few differences. As a boy, I had gotten in trouble in school in fifth grade for peeking into the girls' bathroom, whereas as a girl, I had been sent home twice in fifth grade for wearing skirts that were too short. As a boy, I had flunked two math classes in high school, but as a girl, I had managed to a C and a D, so I didn't have to take summer school. In fact, since I was now older--21--I was already in college, something that my boy persona would never have dreamed of doing. Finally, even though I had a couple of speeding tickets in my background as a girl, it was much better than having a drunk-driving conviction like the one I had as a boy.

Cris and I no longer dated, of course, though we remained good friends. In college, I started dating the quarterback of the football team, and one day he asked me why I never wore jeans like the other girls usually did. His team was leaving for a big game in a couple of days, and I told him I'd show him when they came back. As luck would have it, however, the next day I found myself wearing a skirt with a zipper right around the hips, and when he asked me for a date the evening before his team left, I said yes. We went to dinner and a movie, then out into the country to a little lake that I had been to once before.

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