Chapter 3
GETTING READY
Joe parked his car in the parking area. The back of his
sports car was filled with packages from his morning shopping
spree.
Returning to the apartment, Joe felt exhausted, but relieved.
The shopping trip had been only moderately difficult since he still
felt like a man, and was still dressed like one, but soon he would
be meeting with Jay for lunch, while pretending to be, and dressing
like, a woman. The very thought of going out in public still
embarrassed him, and left him with a queasy feeling in the pit of
his new, flatter, stomach.
A part of his brain kept waiting to wake up, saying this had
to be one wild dream, but another part seemed resigned to the
changes, which were beyond his ability to accept. So far, his
disciplined mind was experiencing them with curiosity and humor.
He considered everything to be temporary, to last only until he
could figure out what had happened to him, and correct it.
He went to the bedroom to change clothes, and started removing
the underwear from the packages. One by one, he examined each
item, and tried to imagine wearing it. As he started to unbutton
his shirt, his eyes were fixed on the things he was about wear. As
he undressed, he again became aware of the sensations caused by his
new shape.
Having breasts was different. He could feel his nipples
rubbing on his clothing. Having smaller biceps and triceps was
different too. His arms actually seemed longer because they were
thinner.
Sliding the shirt off his narrow shoulders, he looked down at
his chest, which was partially covered by a white bra. The bra was
without lace, or decoration, just functional underwear whose
primary purpose was the support he now needed. He carefully opened
the front clasp and opened the bra, exposing his breasts. His
chest, which only hours ago was flat, broad, and covered with dark
hair, was now smooth, soft, and rounded, with large pink nipples.
Free from the covering of the bra, his breasts felt cold and he
could feel their slight added weight on his chest.
He touched his left breast, and could feel his nipple harden
between his slim fingers. The feeling made him quiver, and his
breasts shook as if they had minds of their own.
He sat on the edge of the bed. Removing his socks and jeans,
he stood before the bed in his men's black low-rise briefs. He
hooked his fingers into the waistband, and pulled them down his
hips.
The sights and sensations he was experiencing should have
given him a raging erection. In fact, it felt like he had one, but
when he looked down there, he felt and saw the crotch of his
underwear was damp with secretions. The moisture made him feel
uncomfortable. A musky scent was noticeable. Time for another
quick shower, he mused, and walked into the adjoining bathroom.
Turning on the shower, he felt the water temperature. As it
warmed, he again noticed that his skin felt thinner, more sensitive
to touch and heat. He entered the shower and soaped down. The
soapy water on his body felt great. "At least this situation isn't
all bad," he thought. He lingered in the shower, enjoying the
sensations, but when he turned toward the spray, the streaming
water hit his soft breasts, he was jolted awake by a sharp stinging
sensation. "Enough of this," he thought, and attempted to wash his
unfamiliar genitals.
He was not exactly sure how to begin. He soaped his hands and
rubbed the soap bar on his pubic hair. Then, using his fingers, he
carefully cleansed the creases and folds which replaced his penis.
It felt good. Innocently, he gently began exploring a sensitive
little bundle of tissue near the top of his genital opening. Could
this be what a clitoris felt like? With the added lubrication of
the soapy water on his fingers, the feeling was familiar, yet
different.
When he finished his cleansing exploration, he rinsed off the
remaining soap, and noticed that although his body was now almost
completely hairless compared with before, he did have considerable
hair under his arms. He thought about it for a moment, and decided
that he had better remove it. He had never shaved that area
before, but there were all kinds of new things today. He went to
the cabinet and got his razor and a can of shaving cream. He
squirted some cream into his small hand, and rubbed it on the soft
hair under his arms. He then took the razor, and began shaving the
light hair. "I never imagined I would be doing this today," he
thought to himself.
As he was shaving, he noticed his legs, and thought about the
pantyhose he bought. "I suppose I'd better do those too," he
decided. Feeling and seeing the jiggle of his breasts as he was
applying the shaving cream to the light hair on his legs, he
chuckled to himself about the irony of his situation. "If Linda
could see me now," he said to himself, out loud.
When he completed shaving his legs and underarms, he rinsed
the remaining cream off his body and stepped from the shower. He
grabbed a bath towel and dried himself. He felt better now, and
actually smelled good. He felt his smooth legs and was actually
impressed with his looks. "I'd better be careful," he thought to
himself. "I might actually start to like this female stuff."
He found some underarm deodorant, the most "feminine" he had.
"It smells okay to me," he thought to himself. Naked, he then went
back to the bedroom to attempt to dress.
Fresh from the shower, he went to the dresser mirror. He
looked into the glass. What he saw looking back was a young woman.
He did not have a sister, but if he had, she might have looked like
he did now. He had not washed off the makeup the lady at the mall
had applied, and it had held up well in the shower. He actually
looked quite attractive, with only the short hair on his head to
raise any question of his sex. He had seen women with hair as
short as his, but he did not like the way it looked on them.
Even though he certainly looked like a woman, he still felt he
was a man, and his brain still thought like a male. He could feel
a trace of lust surfacing, as he gazed at this naked person in the
mirror. "Well, this is one babe you won't be screwing, you horny
stud," he thought to himself.
As he could feel himself getting aroused, he looked at himself
in the mirror. His new clitoris felt just like his penis. It did
not feel nearly as small as it looked. In fact he could not even
see it, but he could certainly tell it was there when he became
aroused. He figured he better get dressed if he was going to make
his appointment with Jay. He would have to go with wet underpants
again, if he continued to gaze at his new shape.
Trying to put his mind on something else, he moved away from
the mirror. He looked at the array of new clothes on the bed. He
picked up a pair of panties, and held them up. "Well, they sure
don't look like they'll fit," he thought.
He looked at the narrow, cotton lined, crotch strip, and
sighed. He felt perverted, like he was considering putting on
Linda's underwear. Bending down, he placed one smooth leg into the
small pink panty, and followed with the other. He pulled them up,
over what seemed to him to be his huge, soft, butt, and found that
they came up only to his slightly protruding hip bones. He looked
down at himself, and what he saw was both familiar, and unusual.
He had seen quite a few girls, women, in their underwear before.
Now, as he looked at himself, he could see he looked just like
they did. He felt the same as always too, but when he looked in
the mirror, the familiar bulge of his penis and testicles was gone.
The snug fitting panty emphasized a small mound which was a little
higher up than where his penis had been. Below that, the crotch
gusset outlined, with sexy sleekness, a flat area which replaced
his absent male parts.
He reached down to feel the smoothness of his mound, and could
feel his pubic hair through the thin fabric. He went down further,
and felt the warm softness of his crotch. The touch made unfamil-
iar muscles in his groin contract, and he moved his hand away. He
grinned, and put it back, pressing on the slick softness. It
seemed the changes he had undergone were never more evident than
right now.
As he gently rubbed the silky area, he began to feel moisture.
"I suppose I'd better stop this," he said to himself. He had to
keep his mind on getting dressed. He had to meet Jay for lunch.
He looked over at the bed and picked up the white bra he had
worn home from Sears. He was about to put it back on when he
decided to wear the pink one, which was also lying on the bed.
While the white one was plain and simple, this one was different.
It was sheer, with small lace edges around the cups. It was an
underwire, and even felt different from the white one. He was
talked into this one by the salesgirl, who said it would be just
right for his figure type.
He had no experience in that area, but it was a front close,
the one thing he insisted on, and the girl was cute, so he bought
it. Now, as he carefully untangled the thing, put his arms through
the straps, and was clasping the plastic latch between his breasts,
he realized that he could see his nipples right through the sheer
seamless cups. He squeezed the softness with his hand, and just
stared at his new shape, and his erect nipples pressing against the
thin fabric.
He reached down and grabbed one of the packages of pantyhose.
The wrapper said, Hanes Silk Reflections, Barely There. He ripped
open the package and looked at the wrinkled mass of nylon. "Okay,"
he said, "let's get on with it."
He decided that the best way to approach it was to sit on the
edge of the bed, and slide the hose up one leg at a time. He
eventually had both legs in and the waist about mid-thigh.
Awkwardly, he struggled to stand up, and finished pulling the tight
fitting monstrosity up above his natural waist. He looked down at
his legs. "Pretty good," he thought, but the crotch was still
about three inches from his butt. He grabbed and pulled some more
until he had them fitting the way he thought they should. They
made his legs feel slick, and very warm.
Looking at the mirror again, he saw himself in panties, pink
bra, and the shiny pantyhose. Seeing himself, all he could do was
sigh in a defeated manner. "Am I going to be stuck like this
forever?" he thought. He could not even imagine such a thing.
"No time to worry about it now," he decided.
Glancing at the clock told him the time for daydreaming was
running short, and that he had to get moving. He reached for the
new white blouse and slipped his arms through the sleeves. Then he
buttoned the blouse starting at the bottom until he had buttoned
all the way the neck. Then, realizing that he was not going to
wear a tie, he unbuttoned the top button. He looked down to see
that his nipples could still be seen through the bra and sheer
white fabric of the blouse. He looked carefully, and imagined that
he was staring at a woman's breasts. "These little babies are
yours, big fella," he said, out loud.
He decided that the outfit was not too risque, and went back
to the pile of clothes on the bed. He decided that the navy skirt
would look the best. He always did like solids anyway. He took
the skirt and slipped it up his smooth legs, and fastened it around
his thin waist. "The darn zipper is in the back," he thought to
himself.
He looked at himself in the full length mirror on the closet
door. "Looking good," he said, turning around, but something did
not seem right when he walked. The skirt clung to his legs and
bunched around his crotch when he bent over. He thought about the
problem, and concluded that he probably needed a slip. He forgot
about that. "Heck, I couldn't think of everything," he thought.
He was trying to decide what to do and, when he went to the
closet, he spotted some of Linda's clothes hanging on hangers.
"Too bad she's smaller than I am," he thought, and then reconsid-
ered.
Although he used to push six feet, now he was closer to five
feet five, or six, about the same as his girl friend. As he poked
through her things, he decided that she would not mind, and would
probably get a chuckle out of it, if the shock did not kill her
first. There were slacks, a shirt, and her red, one piece
swimsuit. He began to think of Linda. She looked great in that
red suit. How would she feel about him, now that he could probably
wear it too? The last hanger held a short black skirt, and under
it, he found a silver colored half slip. "Just what I need," he
thought.
He took it off the hanger and stepped into it. It was a
struggle to get it up under his dress, but when he finally did, it
felt all right. Now, when he walked, the skirt moved smoothly and
did not stick to his legs.
Looking at the clock, he saw he had just enough time to look
in the mirror and he brushed his short hair into the most feminine
look he could muster. He then looked into his plastic bag of
cosmetics, and decided that maybe just a little lipstick touch up
would be good. He wanted to be careful; he did not want to get
carried away, and end up looking like a clown.
He took a last look into the mirror and decided he was ready.
He felt a strange feeling around his upper legs and pulled up his
skirt and slip. His pantyhose was hanging down again, and he
contorted about in a struggle to get them where they belonged.
That's better, he said to himself, and stepped back from the mirror
for a last look. "My god, now I've got to take a leak!" he said
out loud.
He walked back to the bathroom and stood in front of the
toilet. Suddenly, he realized that he could not just stand there,
unzip his pants, and relieve himself. He had to turn around, pull
up the skirt and slip, hold it, and slide both his pantyhose and
panties down, only then could he sit and pee. "Unbelievable," he
thought.
As the flow started, he felt familiar relief. He carefully
wiped, got up, pulled up his underpants, which were around his
ankles, then the pantyhose, went through the whole tugging and
stretching thing again, and then smoothed his skirt down. "All
this just to pee," he thought. "I'll sure be glad when I get back
to normal." When he finished, he went back to the bedroom.
He looked at the stuff he bought, and found the shoe boxes.
"Well," he thought, "we have a choice of white and pink Reeboks, or
blue pump girl shoes with a medium heel." The Reeboks were
definitely out with this outfit, but the "high-heels" were
downright scary. "Take it like a man," he joked to himself, and
slipped the blue heels on. He stood up and felt like he was on
stilts. The heels seemed much higher than the two or three inches
they appeared to be. Also, his jerky movements made his breasts
bounce when he walked.
From habit, he felt for his wallet, feeling only his very
soft, slick, and rounded butt. Realizing his mistake he grabbed
his new purse, and checked that his wallet was in it. After
locking the door to the apartment, he rushed down the stairs.
Actually, he didn't exactly rush, but hobbled, down the stairs in
the shoes.
As he reached the end of the staircase, he stepped out into a
beautiful spring day, with fragrant flowers blooming, and tree buds
bursting into leaves.
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