They used to call me "Stoner," but I wasn't the only one stoned that night. Dick had some high-quality grass, and Bad Ass had some he said he'd grown personally. After smoking it, and drinking some booze along with God knows what else, I wanted to howl at the moon and leave some sperm in anything female. It was Dick's idea to go over to Helen Ross' house and nail her (somehow, he knew her dad was out of town); when we got there and found three women fast asleep (I don't know how we didn't wake them up), B.A. suggested we ought to have at each one. Dick started with Helen; I got the aunt; B.A. got Mrs. Ross. I was the last to nail Helen, who I kind of liked. I got off on her, as I had with the mother and the aunt, but when we went around for a second time, I felt kind of guilty, and only managed to get off on the mother.

We staggered away stoned, but sobering. I must have driven, because we woke up in my living room. I felt like hell, while B.A. and Dick went outside and threw up.

The next day, Josie came by my house. She was a new drug dealer, and always gave me a good deal. She always wore dark glasses, a backward baseball cap, and tight black jeans. I figured she was a lesbian, but what the heck. She offered me a couple of free samples that, while legal, she said, could really knock you over taken together. I took them and felt good the rest of the day. She told me she'd let me get a percentage if she could sell the drugs to my friends. I said, "Why not?" and convinced Dick and B.A. that we should try the stuff. Two little pills--one pink, the other blue and white--were going to be my ticket to happiness, along with making a little money on the side (not that I'd tell my friends: this was to be Josie's and my little secret).

It was at my house that Josie gave us the drugs. She took hers first, then Dick, B.A. and I followed. B.A. and Dick had big dumb grins on their faces as the drugs took effect. So, probably, did I. If I had had any idea of what was to follow, the look would have been quite different.

I swam in and out of awareness. Josie and some other gal who I should have known but didn't kept giving us drugs, which would work fine for a while till they began to wear off. I kept imagining that my body hair was being shaved off and that my penis was being cut off. I sometimes heard Dick and B.A. moaning. I didn't know how much time passed, where we were, or what the hell Josie and her friend were up to.

I guess I was the first to find out, since I remember the reactions of Dick and B.A. to the news. One day (this had gone on for so many days, I lost count), as the drugs began to wear off, I was given a different drug, some sort of stimulant. I sat up in the bed where I had been lying. There were a lot of bandages on my body, and I felt different for some reason. I noticed that I had a lot less body hair than I had had before, and that in fact there were small but definite boobs on my chest. There were bandages on and around my crotch. "Tomorrow the bandages come off," Josie said. I lay in bed the rest of the day, wondering what the hell was going on, and when it was all going to end.

The next day, the bandages were gently removed, though I still managed to feel quite sore in the groin. I looked down at my penis, which I hadn't seen in ages. It was gone. I put my hand down to rub the spot, but when I touched it, it hurt like hell. "You cut off my dick! I'm gonna kill you!" I shouted. I was immediately sedated.

When I woke up, Dick was about to learn the news. "You bitch!" he shouted, as he looked at his non-existent penis for the first time. "Where's my dick? You gave me a pussy?! I?m gonna kill you--and Nick, you're gonna pay for this."

"Dick," I said, "she cut off mine, too."

"Serves you right, puss--"

I guess the sedative kicked in quickly, for the next thing I remember, B.A. was waking up and finding out about his changed anatomy. "Holy shit!" was all he said. Dick's sedative wore off a while later, and Josie and Peg--some cousin of a friend of Helen Ross--came into the room wearing nice girls' clothes, and carrying even more.

"You have raped three women, all friends of ours," said Josie.

"Shit," said Dick.

"We will have none of that language here," said Peg.

Josie continued. "We are going to let you get away with it--on one condition. You must live the rest of your lives as girls and women. You will be given girls' names, wear girls' clothes, marry men--everything. For the next few days, you will practice being teenage girls. You will wear dresses, slips, bras, panties, nylons, heels, the works. You will apply eyeliner, lipstick, and nail polish properly. You will sit on the potty in the ladies' room, smooth your skirt when you sit down, and walk like a lady whether in heels or tennis shoes. You will not do drugs--not even drink or smoke."

"And what if we do?" snarled Dick.

"We'll tell the police what you did, they'll match your DNA to that found on the victims, and then you can spend the next ten years explaining to fellow inmates why you're in the 'big house' for rape when you have nothing to rape with," said Peg.

We spent the next few days bowing, curtsying, walking with one foot in front of the other, and walking in heels. We got new names. I became Nicolette Stein, B.A. became Bev Anderson, and Dick became Virginia Richards. Helen and her friend Sarah--Peg's cousin--came to visit us. Helen hugged each of us and told us she forgave us--and we became some of her best friends. We were all bridesmaids at Helen and Sarah's double wedding, and Bev and I both married gentlemen from other states. Virginia is about to marry Mr. Pierson, our school's former vice principal (now a car salesman); he doesn't know about her previous identity.

You probably want to know how we got our names. Bev Anderson has the same initials--B.A.--as her former name, Billy Abbot (and nickname, "Bad Ass"); Nicolette Stein is a variation of Nick Stone; while Dick's first name--Richard--is now his last name, while his last name--Winston (a brand of cigarettes)--has been exchanged with Virginia, as in Virginia Slims (a brand of women's cigarettes). But none of us smoke.

Click here for Jo's version of the story.

©1999 Story Page. Permission to reprint this story on another Website requires that this copyright notice and link be included.