The Summer of '92

Chapter One

They always tell you that your college years are the ones that really define who you are, or who you will be. In my case, though, it was the summer immediately after graduating from college that turned my world around.

I worked my ass off for 4 years to get to that point. Oh sure, I partied too. But nowhere near as much as your average college yahoo. I was there primarily to get my business degree and then go make my millions. My friends were there mostly for the parties. They joined frats and partied their asses off while I opted for the independent, apartment life so I could concentrate on my studies. I may not have enjoyed college as much as they did, but now that it was over, I was going to reap the benefits while they continued doing whatever it was they were doing.

It was early summer. I had a prime job waiting for me in September, my folks had presented me with a hefty check as a graduation gift and headed off for a long-awaited cruise to anywhere, my friends had all split for their respective homes and summer jobs, and I was left alone. Alone to relax and enjoy life like I never had been able to before! The pressures and stresses of college were behind me now. The university district had returned to a more tolerable and relaxed environment, and I intended to spend the entire summer making up for lost time! I knew there wouldn't be the major keg blowouts that typified the school year, but I was thankful for that. I never liked those kinds of scenes anyway. So there I was, free to do as I pleased for 3 months, thanks to my own diligence (and a hefty check from my folks!) In a nutshell, I was going to make up for lost time.

The first couple of weeks were perfect, just as I had expected them to be. I slept late, watched the tube, ate whatever and whenever I pleased, and even hit the bars a few times. Yep…everything was next to perfect for about 2 weeks. That’s when the bottom dropped out…

I awoke around noon, which was unusual. "Sleeping in" to me, is waking up around 8 or even 9 AM. But sleeping until noon was unprecedented for me, and I hadn’t even been out the night before, or even stayed up all that late. I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the bathroom when I noticed something didn’t feel right. It started as an overall sense of…well, just different. Then, as I slowly became more aware, the feelings became more specific. In particular, parts of me were jiggling that shouldn’t have been. At first, I attributed it all to my extreme grogginess and the plethora of pizzas I had been snarfing. I dreamily pried my eyes open a little wider and looked down, expecting to see my pizza-enhanced belly shimmying about my waist. I couldn’t see my waist, though, because my tits were in the way. I shrugged it off and continued my slow trek towards the bathroom.

My tits were in the way…

Reacting as if I were in a bad sit-com, I rubbed my eyes and shook my head to clear the remaining cobwebs…and got my face whipped by long, brown hair.

My "hangover" (or whatever it was) disappeared as I snapped to reality!

Tits?!!

Long brown hair?!!

With my eyes finally wide open I spun around to face the mirror and take a long look. What I saw caused my knees to go weak as I fell into a nearby chair.

There was a woman looking back at me! I mean…there was a goddamn woman where my reflection should have been! No ordinary woman either…she was a knockout! Long brown hair, sexy little (shocked) face, and a dynamite body! I looked at her, then down at myself…and saw the same body. What the hell was going on?! Shit like that just doesn't happen! I couldn't accept it as being real. It had to be some kind of setup! I was a well-educated person…I had just graduated from a prestigious university…top of my class…I was no dumb-shit! And I knew that this…shit…does…not…happen!!!

According to me senses, however, I was wrong. I looked over every inch of that (gorgeous) body and carefully (and slowly!) touched every inch of it. The skin was soft and practically hairless. The butt…firm and smooth. The tits…every red-blooded American males dream!…and apparently mine! Last, but definitely not least, I checked out where Mr. Happy used to be. In his place, a smooth mound of curly brown hair camouflaging …how should I put this?…"Miss Happy?" Everything told me that I now had the body of a babe. But I still couldn't accept it. There had to be some reason for what was happening, besides the obvious.

Dreaming? No way! I wasn't a person who remembered his dreams very often or in very much detail. What dreams I did remember were very surreal and jumped around a lot. What was happening to me now was all too real to be a dream. (Besides, I was already black and blue from where I had been pinching myself.) Maybe there was a more "technical" reason for my predicament.

Virtual reality? I knew I was stretching it, but that's what I get for watching so damn much TV. Had someone strapped me into some ultra-hyper VR machine and programmed it so I'd wake up in this VR nightmare? If so, they'd have had to program my whole apartment into it, and if they had, they did a pretty damn good job. Way too good! I had an idea. I went to my stereo cabinet and opened up my CDs and tapes. They were all there…every one of them. That was a hell of a lot of detail to program in. I opened up one of my cassettes (one that I had recorded myself) and checked the label. Every song was exactly as it should have been! I looked through my dresser drawers…every piece of clothing there was where it should have been! There was no possible way that anyone could have programmed that much detail into a VR program. So if it wasn't a dream, and it wasn't virtual reality, what the hell was left?

Hypnosis? Hallucination? It had to be one of those! Someone had either hypnotized or drugged me into thinking that I had changed into a beautiful babe. But how to check it out? I didn't know enough about either to know how deeply they could affect my mind. Obviously, all of my senses had been affected, so how could I prove that I was hallucinating? Another opinion. That's the only thing I could come up with to prove it. If other people still saw the old male Chris, even though I was seeing a new female one, then that would settle that!

But how could I do that? I wasn't about to call up someone and say, "Hey, could you do me a favor. I'm having a little trouble, could you stop by and tell me if I'm a chick?" Besides, with all my friends gone, there really wasn't anyone to contact. I was on my own. The growling in my now flat tummy reminded me of what time of day it really was. It also gave me an idea. The pizza guy! They'd been delivering to me almost daily for the last 2 weeks. If I was indeed a knockout brunette, I'd sure as hell notice his reaction when I answered the door.

So I quickly hit the speed-dial and ordered up my usual (ignoring how different my voice sounded…to me, at least). The thought then occurred to me…what to wear? It didn't look like any of my clothes would fit me now, so I threw on my robe. Even though it was an old, ratty terry cloth thing, it had never looked better. Looking in the mirror, I could see that the robe could either be completely concealing or devilishly revealing, depending on how open I left it. I decided to go with the middle-of-the-road approach and just leave it open enough for the guy to get a good shot of cleavage.

While waiting for the pizza guy, I caught myself staring into the mirror with a myriad of thoughts whirling through my head. If this was a set-up, as I suspected, then who would have done it, and why? I couldn’t think of anyone I had pissed off enough to attempt something like this. Hell, my life had been so secluded the last few years, I don't think I even mildly annoyed anyone.

But what if this wasn't a set-up and I really did suddenly wake up in the body of a beautiful buxom babe? How the hell did it happen? Why the hell did it happen? And, most importantly, how the fuck was I going to deal with it? I had been a male for the last 21+ years, and liked it! I knew nothing about being a woman! What the hell was I going to do?

I took a deep breath (noticing how nicely my robe stretched open when I did) and decided to postpone these questions until I really needed to worry about them, if I really had to at all. At that moment, the doorbell rang. He was here! The moment of truth was at hand! For an instant, the absurdity of the situation caused me to smirk. My sanity, if not my whole future, lay in the greasy hands and leering eyes of Pizza Guy! I adjusted the robe (trying to display enough cleavage without poking his eyes out) and headed for the door. My heart raced as I reached for the doorknob! In a few seconds, the questions that had been driving me crazy all morning would be answered in the dilated (or not!) pupils of the guy on the other side of that door. I took another deep breath (to enhance the effect, if there was one), fixed a (sexy?) smile on my face, opened the door …

…and came face to face with the biggest set of jugs I had ever seen on a pizza guy, or girl, as it turned out to be.

The words "Pizza Guy" were stretched and distorted across her t-shirt, which showed a hell of a lot more cleavage than my robe.

"That’ll be $8.50!" she chirped from somewhere behind those tits.

I gave her a $10, told her to keep the change, and closed the door as she jiggled back to her car. I plopped the pizza down on the table…suddenly not so hungry. I was right back where I started! All that planning, all that stress…and I still didn’t know what the fuck was going on?!

After about half an hour of ranting, raving and swearing at every inanimate object in my apartment, I calmed down and gave the problem some more thought. Someone was screwing with my mind! That was the only thing that made sense, but I had to find out for sure if that was the case. I figured I had 3 options:

As distasteful as it seemed, it was the only option I could come up with. There was, however, one major flaw with it. What could I wear? I couldn’t go wandering around outside in just a ratty, half-open robe. I needed clothes. But what kind of clothes? Even if I had any female clothing, I couldn’t just slip them on and go prancing around in public. If I was indeed suffering from some kind of hypnosis or induced hallucination, I’d look ridiculous! And that was probably exactly what my tormentor(s) wanted me to do! I could see it now…pictures of me in woman’s clothing plastered up everywhere. Just perfect!! I needed to find some clothes that wouldn’t look ridiculous on the "male" me, but at the same time enhance my apparent "female" form enough to turn a few heads. Piece of cake, right? Wrong!

Obviously, none of my current clothes fit at all. They were all way too baggy on me now. I decided to dig deeper into my clothes archives to see what I could find. Now, even though I had gained about 20 pounds (or so) in the last 4 years, I (being a guy) figured I could always drop those extra pounds once I had the time. Since I didn’t remember ever throwing away any of my old high school clothes, I figured they had to be around somewhere. Finally, at the bottom of an old drawer that I rarely use, I found several old shirts, jeans and an old pair of overalls that were several sizes smaller than what I was currently wearing. Since the shirts and jeans still seemed a little small, I went for the overalls.

It wasn't very tough to squeeze into those overalls, but I figured that they were the safest way to test my hypothesis. Once outside, I would stroll past a couple of red-blooded American males and gauge my appearance by their reactions to me. If I was still male and hallucinating, they would see a "slightly" overweight guy trying to prove he can still wear his old, slimmer clothes and just have a slight look of pity on their faces. If, on the other hand, I had indeed somehow changed into a female, then what would they see…?

As I finished buckling the last strap, I stepped in front of the mirror and gasped! Ordinarily I would have seen my best impression of a country bumpkin with his extra flab oozing out the edges of the overalls, but the image looking back at me was nothing less than a tidy, sexual package whose best assets were barely being constrained by those old overalls! If I really did look like this to guys, then I’d sure as hell better be fast on my feet!

I figured the closest (and safest) place to test the waters was the apartment buildings laundry room. I could actually see from my apartment that there were several guys in there doing laundry. Taking a deep breath (I seemed to be doing that a lot), I stepped outside and headed for the laundry room. As I walked across the parking lot, I noticed how different the clothes felt on my body and how different it felt just walking. My ass seemed to be swaying a little too much on its own and that overalls rubbing against my tits felt damn good! I didn’t want it to, but I couldn’t help it, and it was making my nipples push harder against the fabric which increased the effect! Whoever had done this to me, whether real or not, had done a pretty damn good job!

I opened the door to the laundry room and stepped inside. I had my answer almost immediately. Normally, when I stepped into a room full of guys, they’d look up to see who or what had entered, maybe grunt a brief "hey", and then go back to whatever they were doing. That wasn’t the case this time. There were three guys sitting in front of their dryers reading. As soon as I walked in, they all looked up (as usual), smiled (not usual) and continued to look at me. I knew those looks, having given them myself many times in the past. Their gazes moved up and down my body, stopping repeatedly at my tits. They were checking me out! And obviously, they liked what they saw!

Shit!! I thought to myself. My worst fears were confirmed. I was a woman!! It wasn’t a drug-induced hallucination or hypnosis! Somehow, I had turned into a living, breathing, (and obviously lust-inducing!) female!! I had to get out of there and figure out how to deal with my new, "real" predicament. But I couldn't just turn tail and run out of there…I had to think of a way to exit gracefully enough so that those yahoos didn't think I was some kind of spaced-out chick. To this day, I still don't believe the idea that popped into my head at that moment.

I turned to the pop machines and started fishing through my pockets for money. When I came up empty, I feigned a frustrated sigh, knowing full well that there were still three pairs of eyes locked onto my every movement. (Having seen what my earlier deep breaths had done to my robe, I could only imagine what my deep sigh was doing to those guys!) I repeated my sigh, accompanied with a slight stamping of my foot in frustration.

"Problem?" I heard from the chairs.

I felt a smile sneak across my face. It was amazing how easily they had taken the bait. I decided to experiment. Twirling my fingers in my long hair, I turned toward them.

"I feel like such a blonde," I pouted. "I came all the way down here for a coke and left my money back in my apartment." I talked in the best "helpless little girl" voice I could think of, all the while putting an extra little bit of arch into my back, which resulted in the desired effect.

All three immediately began digging through their pockets and produced a total of about $5 in change which they eagerly presented to me. I smiled at them and picked one quarter from each of their sweaty palms.

"Thank you sooo much," I cooed. "I’d have hated to have to go all the way back home again." I quickly turned back to the machines, got my coke, and headed for the doorway. As I passed through the door, I turned back to them, gave a girlish wave, and giggled "Bye!"

As I walked back through the parking lot, I put an extra little swing in my hips for them, since I knew they were still watching. When I was finally out of sight, I hightailed it back to my apartment and slammed the door shut!

What the hell had just happened?! That "test" had gotten a little out of hand! One second I was panic-stricken at finding out the truth about my physical appearance, and the next, I’m using my nubile, new form and flirting like an old pro! Now, I had always been a quick thinker and a problem-solver, but that was a little scary. I decided to postpone any further "excursions" for the time being and take stock of my situation.

So, there I was…fresh out of college, a healthy amount of dough in the bank, ready to cram four years of partying into one summer, and suddenly…female. But for how long? Would I change back tomorrow? Next week? Next month? Ever?! I needed a beer. Situations like this also seemed easier to take after a couple of beers. Luckily I was well stocked. I popped open a honey-brown, cranked up some tunes and assessed my predicament.

My mind kept jumping back to the scene in the laundry room…how easily I had assumed the role of "damsel in distress" and how much I actually seemed to enjoy it! That was the weird part. I should have been totally freaked out by the whole experience, but instead, I adapted and slid right into it. Even now, I still wasn’t as upset as I should have been. Maybe it was the beer, but I found myself thinking that it was kind of cool the way I got those guys to fawn all over me the way they did. And all I had to do was stick my chest out a little, bat my eyes, and "Wham!"… I had ‘em! Imagine what might have happened if I had really been trying to drive them nuts! I had always recognized the power beautiful women had over men, but now I had actually experienced it from the other point of view…and I kind of liked it! The thought of those usually arrogant jocks suddenly reduced to the 3 stooges by a pair of tits put a rather large smile on my new face. It also seemed to produce some rather pleasant tinglings throughout my new body as well.

After another beer (or was it two?), I decided that I should prepare for an extended stay as a female, just in case. If that was the case, I’d need clothes. It was going to be tough enough going into a women’s store and buy things, but going in totally ignorant of what I needed was out of the question. So I logged on to the internet and started searching through women’s clothing sites to see what was out there and to try and find out my sizes. I never gave women’s sizes much thought before, but now I definitely needed to. Using the rope belt from my robe, I found out my measurements were 36"-24"-34". Not too damn bad, if I didn’t say so myself!

After finding out what sizes I needed I must have spent over an hour or two surfing through online clothes stores, gawking at the models, wondering if I’d ever have to wear anything like that… and all the while, putting away beer after beer…

I vaguely remember a beep from my computer waking me from my slumber at the desk. Slowly, I stumbled back to my bedroom and crashed into bed.

Chapter Two

When I woke up, it was light out, but nowhere near as late as the day before. The day before?… It all came flooding back to me as my hands flew over my body reconfirming that I was still indeed a woman. A woman with a hell of a hangover, as I found out as soon as I sat up in bed. I guess this new body wasn’t designed to hold the same quantity of beer that I was used to. And now I was paying for it. My head throbbed and my mouth tasted like the inside of a gym locker. I also discovered a little something that had never occurred to me before…even beautiful women stink when they haven’t bathed for a couple of days! I was ripe! So I headed for the shower to try and wash away both my inner and outer funks.

As the hot water cleared away the haze, I began to finally explore my new "attributes". The slippery film of soap coating my body felt great as my hands lathered up more and more bubbles. There definitely was an upside to my predicament. I cradled my soapy tits in my hands and felt my nipples harden as I did. They felt incredible! I had felt my share of tits in my days, but being on the receiving end was infinitely more enjoyable. The suds oozed between my fingers as I caressed my tits. I tweaked one of my hardened nipples and felt a shudder of pleasure shoot through my body! Holy Shit!! It was the most erotic sensation I had ever felt in my life!

I could have spent all day playing with my tits in the shower like that, but my curiosity got the best of me. If being felt up felt that good, I wondered what would happen if…? Hmmmm…

My hands slid down over my tight, soapy stomach towards the soapy mound of curly hair waiting below it. Cautiously at first, my fingers crept within the curly locks and began probing…and found what they were looking for. As they slid inside the moist crevasse, a shudder swept throughout my body…more intense than any pre-orgasmic treat I had ever felt before as a man! As my fingers continued to explore and massage my new interior, I could feel the stirrings of the eventual climax taking hold. As they developed a rhythm with my new-found sweet spot, my delicate but magical fingers locked me onto a path with only one possible outcome…there was no turning back. The levels of pleasure attained by my new body were incredible! My male body would have cum and gone long before now (pun intended), but this new, nubile body was going to take me to a level undreamed of before finally erupting in inevitable bliss.

I don't know how loud I got because those final moments are still a little foggy to me, but I do recall the impossibly intense and pleasurable surge coursing through my body as it finally released and flooded every cell with sexual fire! I don't recall sliding to the floor of the shower, but I do recall sitting there for what seemed like an eternity, purring happily as the now lukewarm water poured over me.

As I climbed to my feet, fully expecting to be physically, emotionally and sexually drained from my experience, I discovered another surprise inherent in my new body… I was none of the above! Physically, I had expected to be unable to accomplish more than a weak crawl to bed, but I was fully charged and ready for action! Emotionally, I had expected to feel let down and a little ashamed for my actions, but I was as happy and content as a kid with a new toy! And sexually…well, of course, I had expected to be so satisfied that I wouldn't even think of sex for over a week, but I actually wanted more! I couldn't believe it! The most intense sexual experience I had ever encountered and now I wanted more!

Memories of my hands caressing my body slowly changed to thoughts of other's hands caressing my body…causing my nipples to again harden as my arousal heightened. Before I knew it, thoughts of the guys in the laundry room had entered my fantasy. At that point, I immediately caught myself and returned to the shower for a much needed cooling off period. I don't know which screams were louder…the ones from my earlier experience or from the cold water blasting against my body. Either way, after a minute or two of that, my new, unusual desires had been quelled (for the time being at least) and I was thinking straight again.

Having satisfied my curiosity, my attentions returned to my more immediate needs…clothes. If I was going to be stuck female for awhile (and it looked like I was), then I was going to need more than just an old pair of overalls and some male jeans and t-shirts. I wasn’t going to let this (minor?) setback ruin my summer plans. No way was I going to lock myself up in my apartment or look ridiculous with my regular clothes hanging off of me. As much as I hated the idea, I needed women’s clothing. Nothing fancy, but enough to function in public without drawing stares of ridicule.

I found the measurements and sizes I had jotted down the night before next to my computer. I had obviously also been using it as a scratch pad since the info I wanted was all but obscured by illegible scribblings. I tried to remember what I must have been writing last night, but the alcohol seemed to have annoyingly erased those particular memory cells.

Rummaging through my drawers, I found some clothes that I thought might fit and squeezed into them. I knew the t-shirt was going to be tight, but I didn’t realize how tight. It hugged my torso and displayed every curve from my navel to my nipples. I didn’t have much choice, however, since the alternate was the overtly revealing overalls…and I remembered the effect they had.

So, armed with my measurements, my checkbook, and a body I had no business being in, I headed out to K-Mart. Keep in mind, I was just looking for basics, nothing flashy, so K-Mart seemed the quickest way for me to get what I needed and head home.

I knew I was in trouble the second I stepped from my car outside K-Mart. Almost immediately, male eyes were giving me the once over. In the parking lot, in the entrance way, and down every aisle…I could feel their stares trying to unpeel me. I was starting to get more than a little pissed! A couple of dorks had actually taken to "discreetly" following me around the store while I picked out my "essentials"—shirts, shorts, shoes, and (shudder!) underwear! I felt ridiculous looking through panties and bras, trying to find them in my size, but my new "admirers" seemed to be getting off on it as they "slyly" watched me from the wings. Every time I looked over a pair of panties or a bra, they seemed to get just a little too excited, so I decided to have a little fun with the yokels.

I stepped over to K-Mart’s version of the sexier lingerie and started nosing around (not at all ignorant of the heightened excitement levels of Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum). I picked up a pair of lacey, thong panties and tossed them in my basket (hearing a sophomoric squeal in the background). I then picked out a silky little teddie/ bodysuit thing and pressed it up against myself in front of the mirror. (The moans from the next aisle were almost disgusting. It sounded like they were jacking-off over there.) After tossing it into my bag also, I headed over to the swimwear section (with my "gallery" closely in tow.) For the piece-de-resistance I grabbed the tiniest bikini I could find, "modeled" it briefly in front of a mirror, and tossed it into my basket.

As I headed for the checkout, I stopped right next to my "admirers", who were poorly feigning disinterest, and pretended to look for something on the shelf there. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them checking me out as well as the contents of my basket. Returning to my basket and resuming my way to the checkout, I stopped directly in front of them, looked them both right in the eyes, and said,

"Take a good long look, boys! ‘Cause this is the closest you’ll ever get to this again!" (Motioning to my body.)

Waving my basket of "goodies" in their stunned faces, I finished with "And you’ll never get a chance to see this stuff in action!"

Catching them off guard combined with the steely tone of my voice left those two yutzes speechless (and even more brain-dead than they obviously already were.) Leaving them motionless in the aisle, I headed to the checkout, paid for my stuff, and got the hell out of Dodge.

When I got home, I was still so wired from my encounter with the moron brothers that I slammed down a beer before anything else, just to help calm my nerves. My next step was to get out of those incredibly tight and uncomfortable clothes. Peeling out of the jeans and t-shirt that had gotten me so much attention at the store, I let out a sigh of relief and started rummaging around for something else to wear. I picked out a pair of shorts and a tank top as suitably comfortable replacements. (I wasn’t about to attempt a bra until I absolutely had to, so I figured this top would be a good compromise.) I opened up a bag of panties and realized I should have read the package more carefully. I saw the word "briefs" when I bought them, but I didn’t see the word "bikini" in front of it. Sighing, I slid into a pair and snuggled them into place.

Looking back now, I realize that if I had immediately ripped those things off my body, my whole life might have taken a different direction.

As soon as those panties found their place between my cheeks, something strange happened…I began to like the way they felt! I mean…I liked it a lot! The briefs I had been wearing since toilet training had never felt like this. They were merely functional…holding Mr. Happy in place and keeping him from getting caught in the zipper. That was it.

But the feeling of that material tucked tightly between my thighs and against my new flat front was amazing…it felt great! Without thinking, I pulled the top over my head and wrestled it into place over my tits. I then stepped in front of the mirror and saw a big shit-eating grin spread over the face of one of the most delectable sights I had ever seen!

Whew! I was hot! That sexy babe looking back from the mirror was me, and I was beginning to like it!

For the first time since "the change", the uneasiness and discomfort with my situation had subsided. Up to now, the image in the mirror had always been that of a guy fumbling around in a female body. But that had changed. This image showed no hint of maleness. "She" looked all woman and gave the appearance that she always had been, always would be, and enjoyed every second of it!

Seeing "her" (me!) there got me thinking. Although I had been fighting it tooth and nail from the get-go, I had all too easily stepped into the female role when necessary. The ditzy bimbette in the laundry room…the angry underwear model at K-Mart…that was me out there doing that, and no one else!

I concluded that more than just my physical self had been affected. Something psychological was changing also. Part of my psyche…a new, female part… was starting to exert itself. Not all the time, mind you, but every once in a while. The weird thing about it, though, was that I wasn’t upset by this realization. In fact, I was actually a little glad to have it! It had gotten me out of a couple of jams already by kicking in when I needed it the most.

Continuing to marvel (and ogle!) at myself in the mirror, I began to realize that I could have quite a bit of fun with my new, improved exterior. (Ignoring the obvious "fun" things I could do to myself behind closed curtains.) But having spent my whole life as a typical male, I was well aware what kind of effect my new "candy-coated shell" would have on other typical males! In fact, I had always been curious as to why gorgeous women loved to show off their bods to attract men, and then to happily dash their panting hearts when they reacted to it. (Or maybe it was just me they were grinding under their high heels…) Was it some kind of power trip for them, or something much more Pavlovian? I realized that I now had the equipment to experience it for myself! I had already seen two mild examples of what my female form could do to unwitting males, but they were both spur of the moment situations. Imagine what I might be able to do if I actually tried to flaunt my stuff in public!

Outside my apartment I heard voices. Peeking out between the shutters, I could see several of the local male tenants tossing the frisbee around in the courtyard. I also noticed the newspaper still on my porch. A wicked grin spread across my face as I recognized a perfect opportunity!

Slipping on a pair of shorts I had just bought (very short, as it turned out!), I took a deep breath and stepped out onto my porch to get the paper. The two guys facing my apartment let out an audible and simultaneous gasp as soon as they saw me. Seeing their lusty stares, their compadres did an immediate about face to see what had transfixed their buddies. Still pretending not to see them (or care if they did see me), I leaned against my porch railing and stretched my body in the sun, knowing exactly the effect it would have. I could here the groans across the yard! It wasn’t until the wolf-whistle that I turned to acknowledge my admirers. Giving them a slight, but indifferent smile, I turned my back to them, and bent over to pick up my paper. The groans increased in intensity as I stood back up and strolled back into my apartment. Once the door was closed, however, the groans turned into whistles, hoots and hollers. Ahh, the pride I felt at once belonging to such a classy and refined gender!

I started thinking about what had just happened…and what had been happening over the last two days. With minimal effort on my part, I now had the power to reduce most men to blithering idiots. My latest little "production" on the porch had confirmed that. And what was even more interesting, I liked it! I didn't know if it was just the attention I was suddenly getting or if it was just having the power that I enjoyed so much. Having always been relegated to the background in most social settings, I figured that the attention was my prime motivating factor. Of course, I wasn't going to rule out the power I wielded either. Seeing those overconfident yahoos lose their cool at my whim was extremely satisfying, to say the least! Whatever the case, I had finally at least partially answered my own question about why gorgeous women do what they do to men. Of course, there were probably lots of other reasons, but I was satisfied with the little insight I had gained so far.

I decided to stay inside the rest of the day and let my new-found knowledge sink in. Having finished off the last of my beer the night before, I popped open a bottle of wine leftover from I don't know when and spent the rest of the evening surfing. I returned to some of the clothing sites I had visited the night before and found myself comparing my body to those of the models and coming to the conclusion that given the same wardrobe and stylists, I had it all over those girls! Maybe the wine was making me a little bolder than usual, but hell, I could be just as hot as any of those babes if I really wanted to!

After awhile, I logged into one of the chatrooms I usually frequented, but this time with a decidedly female nickname. I wasn't surprised at how much extra attention I received online just with a female name. I'm not sure if it was during my second or third glass of wine that I found myself flirting with several guys at once online…and I was doing a pretty damn good job of it, too! I guess my new body was even more susceptible to wine than beer as my memories of the evening are rather vague. I do remember disconnecting a couple of toads who tried to initiate "cybersex" early in the evening. However, as the evening wore on (and the wine continued to flow), I vaguely remember snippets of racier, more suggestive dialogue along with occasional flashes of pornographic (albeit soft-core) websites. The bulk of the evening was a blur, though, culminating with crawling into bed at an ungodly hour.

Chapter Three

When the late morning sun finally woke me the next day, the classic "sweat-sock" taste in my mouth foreshadowed what the rest of my body would feel like for the next few hoursFeeling like total crap, . I made the obligatory promise to knew from experience, "never again" go overboard with the booze. I however, that a nice, long shower would improve my physical and mental well-being. It wasn't until I was almost done with the shower that my brain finally kicked in and I noticed that the body I had been sudzing and caressing for the last 20 minutes was any different than it had been 3 days earlier. I had been awake for over half an hour and hadn't even bothered to check if the changes were still in effect! Was it just the effects of the hangover, or was I starting to get used to this new form?!

Drying off and wrapping a towel around myself, I looked in the mirror and noted that I looked and felt 100% better. (I especially looked better…damn! Every time I looked at myself I thought I looked better! Even in a towel, I was hot!) As I turned and posed for myself in the mirror, I could feel (and see!) my nipples hardening as the towel rubbed against them. I thought back to my "experiment" the day before and my nipples got even harder! I let the towel drop and was rewarded with an unobstructed view of sheer heaven! I don’t know if they had actually gotten any bigger, but my breasts were fuller and firmer than I had yet seen them! And they looked and felt great!

I immediately cupped them in my hands, noting the firmness and overabundance that seemed new to me. As my fingers spread over them, brushing the engorged nipples, a shudder ran through my body. They had never been this sensitive before…it was incredible! I felt myself getting damp between my legs, so I slid one hand down eagerly as the other continued to tweak and twirl my nipples. The ensuing shudder sent my body back onto the bed where I continued to knead one breast with one hand while the other hand feverishly rubbed and thrust into my now wet pussy! Before long I was crying out in ecstasy, my back arched high above my bed, as the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced exploded through my body!

I lay there stupefied for several minutes, gathering my senses. I had tapped into a definite perk of this new body of mine that would absolutely become a part of my regular morning routine. Reveling in the afterglow, my mind slowly cleared as I pondered new "experiments" for the day. I mean, how could I not pick up where I left off the day before? No one was getting harmed by my little exhibitions. I was really starting to get into it…and my subjects were definitely enjoying it!

It was all in the name of science anyway. Really! I was even applying the scientific method! (Of course, it had been a while since Biology 104, so I might have been taking a few liberties.) My problem was obvious—How will a heterosexual male react when he suddenly finds himself in the body of a voluptuous female? My hypothesis—If the subject (myself) remains in control of his faculties (doesn’t lose it), then he will use the situation to study and gain insight into the female condition. My methods—various interpretations on a theme—wave a carrot in front of a mule and see how fast he drools (or something like that…like I said, Biology was a long time ago.) My results had indeed given me some insight into the female condition, so to speak, but I was just getting started. I had just uncovered the tip of the iceberg and wanted to see as much of it as possible. (Besides, this was getting downright fun!)

Looking out the window into a cloudless sky, an idea came to mind. Jumping up from the bed, I rummaged around in the K-Mart bags from my previous days shopping trip, looking for an item that I barely remembered buying. When I finally found it, I started having second thoughts (it was so much smaller than I remembered!), but I convinced myself that it was the next logical step in my experiment. It was, after all, for science!

Twenty minutes later, I pushed open the gate surrounding the apartment’s pool area and stepped out onto the "runway" (or gauntlet, depending on your point of view.) As I strode slowly down the length of the pool to a vacant lounger, the gaping stares and not-so-muffled comments from both men and women told me that my new little black bikini was having the desired effect. The top was little more than string and two very small triangles of material that barely covered my nipples. The bottom piece was a high, narrow V-cut in front that disappeared between my cheeks in back. Having checked myself out before leaving the apartment, I knew I looked spectacular! And the lusty stares from the men (as well as the envious, and sometimes hateful looks from the women) confirmed what I already knew!

To be honest, I hadn’t expected the pool to be as busy as it was, or I may not have been so eager to head down there. However, what minor reservations I may have had were quickly quelled within seconds of arriving. The instant that every eye there turned toward me and stayed on me, I felt a rush like I had never experienced before! In the midst of several dozen complete strangers, I was the center of attention by doing little more than just being there! The attention never wavered either…not for a moment! Every time I turned in the lounger, sophomoric groans wafted across the water. Each time I entered and exited the water, suggestive yet juvenile remarks were murmured. (Especially when I exited the water, obviously commenting on the reaction my nipples were having with the cold water.) However, in the full 90 minutes I spent poolside being lusted after (as well as soliciting other emotions from the women), not one person scrounged up the guts to say one word directly to me. None of the guys tried to hit on me (which surprised and relieved me.) None of the women attempted to meet the new girl on the block. No one said jack shit to me, even as I again walked the gauntlet to leave.

On the way back to my apartment, I recalled my own experiences (lack of experiences, actually) with breathtakingly gorgeous women and how I felt so unworthy to even think about approaching them. I was actually intimidated by their beauty! Is that what was going on? Was I getting a taste of the other side? Was I that intimidating? If I was, then my "experiments" had hit a brick wall. If I was perceived as "unattainable", then these were the only reactions I was going to get. Although I was barely confident enough to venture out in my new body, I was a long way from having the confidence to actually initiate contact with anyone, especially a male anyone.

Returning to my apartment, I habitually turned on my computer as I entered. After slipping out of my bikini into a robe, I noticed that I had several e-mail messages waiting for me. Normally, I was lucky to get an occasional joke or two from distant friends, but there on the screen were 4 messages from 3 different senders I had never heard of before. After reading them I was shocked to discover that they were all guys I had chatted with the night before online. They were all dying to chat again…wondering when I would be on again…asking for a pic of myself. Two of them sent pics of themselves along…one looked like a classic "lady killer" who really only loved himself, but the other looked like a regular joe who could be just about anybody.

I struggled to remember chatting with any of these guys, but the best I could do was remember vague online conversations with nameless and faceless guys. Damn booze! This new development reaffirmed my resolve to lay off the hooch for awhile. From what these guys were saying in their e-mails, I had done some serious flirting the night before, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember the details! It seemed that although I was still a little distant and "unattainable" in real life, online I was a different person altogether. I was much more confident and outgoing when I didn't have the guy right there in front of me. I began to get an idea. Since my experiments had reached a plateau, I could continue them online instead…at least for awhile. So I sent short, but sweet, replies to all three guys telling them to look for me online later that day.

Since all of my "admirers" had requested a picture of me, I decided to indulge them… a little. I hadn't used my digital camera much since I got it as a Christmas gift, but here was the perfect opportunity. Setting it up on a tripod, I pondered what type of pic to take. Simple head shot or full body shot? Sweet and demure or sexy and steamy? I decided to go for a compromise…waist up with a sweet but slightly sexy hint to it. Keeping the robe on but adjusting it to display just the right amount of cleavage, I set the timer on the camera and positioned myself on the sofa in front of it. It took me a couple of tries before I got the results I was looking for…sexy, but without pushing it.

Looking at the picture there on the computer screen reminded me of the many web models whose sites I had visited time and again. I liked what I saw…so would others! It suddenly occurred to me that I could use this forum to push the envelope of my experiments a bit. In the confines of my own apartment, I could be as sexy and uninhibited as I wanted, and with the addition of a few well-posed pics, I could extend that influence beyond my walls with little to no risk. That one pic of myself would definitely whet many appetites, so I would eventually need more pictures…and not just pics of me in a robe, either. I suddenly found myself eagerly going through my entire, if somewhat limited, female wardrobe and trying on everything. I spent the next hour in front of the camera posing provocatively in everything from my short shorts to my bikini. When I came to my newly purchased teddie, I stopped and took a deep breath.

Did I have the guts to pose in this tiny little thing? I hadn't even tried it on yet, so I had no idea if it would even fit. Well, at the very least I had to see if it would fit. So I stripped down to nothing, held the teddie out in front of me, gave a slight whistle, and decided to go for it. I stepped into it and pulled it up over my anticipating body. It was a lacy, emerald green little number that crept snugly between my cheeks and hugged every contour of my nubile body. My reflection reminded me of that of a centerfold! I had no idea that I could look that incredibly sexy! I decided that this picture had to be perfect, so I reset the camera in the bedroom to take a pic of me reclining on the bed, the teddie hanging precariously off one shoulder, with a look that just dared anyone to try and remove it the rest of the way.

The feel of the teddie against my body was intoxicating, to say the least. I knew how sexy I looked, but it was how incredibly sexy I felt that urged me into the next step. Armed with my new "portfolio", I logged on and started looking through the chat rooms for my admirers…still wearing the teddie. I couldn’t bring myself to take it off, it felt so good! Besides, the sexier I felt, the easier my "virtual seductions" would be.

It took practically no time at all before I connected with one of them…actually he found me. Within a minute, he was asking for my picture. I desperately wanted to send the teddie picture, but I didn’t want to blow him out of the water just yet. (Besides, I was enjoying this, and wanted to prolong it as long as possible.) I settled for the first picture of me in my robe on the sofa. He immediately started gushing about how incredibly gorgeous and sexy I looked. (I was finally beginning to understand the effect flattery had on women…and I loved it!) When he began begging for more pics, I knew I had him hooked! I didn’t send any right away, though. I wanted to play! I told him I had a couple floating around somewhere in my computer, but it would take me some time to find them. ("By the way, I loved your picture…how do you find time to get to the gym so often?…Really?! I find that hard to believe… Please tell me everything about yourself… I love the way you write!…Oh! Here’s one…!") And I flashed him the pic of me in my tiny bikini.

He must not have gotten out much because I think he almost had a heart attack. His gushing increased ten-fold (along with my appreciation of his flattery!), but now he definitely leaned more toward the sexual side. I could almost feel the leering in his words as they flew across my screen. (And to tell you the truth, it was getting me more than a little aroused!) Our conversation quickly became much more sexual in nature. Questions about sexual preferences, appetites and what-not were volleyed back and forth. I could feel myself becoming rather damp between my legs as we chatted. Finally he asked the question I was waiting for.

"What are you wearing?" he typed.

"Well, I could tell you, but I’d rather show you." I answered coyly. And with that, I sent the pic of me wrapped in my luscious teddy.

You’d have thought that I reached through the screen and grabbed his crotch myself. His typing suddenly became slower and much more erratic, while his spelling became much more phonetic in nature. Typing with one hand will do that to you…as I was about to find out.

The small talk was over. His words became much more urgent and commanding. He told me what he wanted me to do, and I did it…eagerly! He guided my hands over every soft inch of my body…instructing me to tell him my exact responses, which were heavenly! Within minutes, he had me worked up to the most explosive climax I had ever experienced! The moment of silence on my screen told me that he was also finishing what we had both started together.

I waited for him to reestablish our conversation. It gave me an extra moment or two to bask in the afterglow. The feelings I was experiencing were incredible! Never had I felt so sensual…so sexual…so…so feminine! That was the only word I could think of to describe how I felt. There I sat in my sexy jade teddy, purring in the afterglow of one of the most incredible sexual experiences I had ever encountered, and wanting nothing more than to hear that he was as satisfied as I was. If I wasn't the picture of pure feminine sexuality, I didn't know what was!

Presently, his words reappeared on the screen. I was uncharacteristically giddy to learn that he had enjoyed himself just as much as I had…I almost giggled! What was happening to me? I was fully aware of the complete change in my behavior, but did nothing to correct it. In fact, I almost welcomed it! The deeper into my new female role I got, the more I enjoyed it. We continued to exchange flirtatious "pillow talk" for a few moments until he finally asked the question I knew he had to ask.

"Please don't be offended, but I have to know the truth. Are you really the person in the pics you sent me?"

I knew he was wondering about that. Let's face it…an incredibly beautiful woman suddenly appears in your chat room, sends you sexy pictures, and eagerly engages in cybersex with you. Any guy would be…should be…suspicious. I had anticipated his question and smiled coyly as I typed in my answer.

"What would you like to see in my next pic that would convince you?"

"What do you mean?!"

"I mean, tell me what you'd like to see me doing or wearing in the next pic, and I'll send it to you. No nudes, please. Not yet, at least!" I was such a goddamn tease!!

He had lots of ideas on how he'd like to see me, but given my limited wardrobe, he settled on a pic of me in my as yet unworn sexy, pink lace bra and panties, lounging in a suggestive pose for him. I told him to take a break for a few minutes while I fulfilled his request.

I slipped out of my teddy and rummaged through my drawers until I found them. Those silky, pink panties felt great as I slid them up my legs and nestled them in place. After slipping into the matching bra, I stepped back, struck a pose, and admired the view in the mirror. Damn! I looked good enough to eat!! I set the digital camera up on its tripod overlooking a bench in my living room. I set the timer and reclined on the bench, running my hands slowly and luxuriously over my body. I was still basking in the glow from my previous online "exercises" and was sorely tempted to start up again…I felt so good! I was reveling in the emotions flooding through my body when the flash of the camera brought me back to reality.

More than satisfied with the outcome of the picture, I hurried back to the computer and found several eager messages from him waiting there. I loaded the picture before answering.

"Hi there! Miss me?" I teased.

"God, yes! Do you have it?"

"Um-hmm! Would you like to see it?"

"You're damn right I do!"

"Are you sure?" God! If there was a law against teasing, I would be a lifer!

"Please!! Send me the pic! Please?!"

That's what I was waiting for. He had practically begged for it. Not the real thing…merely a picture of what I had to offer, and I had him begging for it! I smiled seductively as I sent the pic and waited for his response…

I won't bore you with the details of his reaction. Suffice it to say that he was more than convinced that I was indeed the woman in the pictures. I cut our remaining conversation short, claiming to have things to do, which wasn't altogether false. During our chat, several of my admirers from the previous evening had located me and asked to talk. Although I wasn't up to anymore online encounters for the evening, I did want to touch base with them and promise to spend some quality time with them online soon.

I spent the rest of the evening lounging around the apartment in my teddy. (God, I loved that thing!) I proclaimed my online "experiment" a complete and total success! What I was unable to accomplish in real life, I had mastered online in a matter of mere hours! I had been emotionally unprepared to continue to test my new-found femininity in the real world, but the internet provided me with a forum to test, practice and master my feminine wiles on the unsuspecting male populous. I realized that to keep my "suitors" happy, I would have to go shopping the next day. I needed a larger wardrobe to entice my online audience. A larger, and definitely sexier, wardrobe. I also decided that a website of my own would be a much more practical way of "sharing" myself with my admirers. My ISP had space for me that I had never used, so I decided to spend a few hours in the morning creating a simple little old website. I planned my shopping strategies as I fell asleep…purring contentedly as my hands deftly explored my amazingly nubile body.

Chapter Four

The next morning, I put together a website containing all of my pictures to date (plus a little "bio" I had fun creating). I spent the next few hours at the mall, shopping for all the required, sexy, feminine attire my wardrobe lacked. I bought everything from shoes (high-heels no less!) to nylons to skirts to dresses. I actually had a ball! Everything I bought was designed to show off my figure…and show it off well! I knew from personal, first-hand experience what men loved to see sexy women wear, and I was doing my damnest to add those items to my "repertoire".

I was amazed at how easily and comfortably I was wearing my new body. I hardly gave a second thought to appearing in public, as evidenced by the outfit I had bought at the first store I stopped at and decided to wear. I was wearing a translucent peasant blouse which allowed any viewer an ample view of my assets, a tight denim skirt that barely reached to mid-thigh, and a pair of sandals with 2-inch heels. I wavered a little at first in the heels, but by the end of my shopping trip I was strutting down the mall like I had been born in heels.

Arriving home, I was surprised to find a note on my door that said that a package was being held for me in the manager’s office. It took several trips to unload my car of purchases. Immediately after my first trip, I wasn’t surprised to find that several of my neighbors (male, of course) had chosen this particular time to venture outdoors and toss the ‘bee around. (Men, I was discovering, could be so damn predictable.) I was sorely tempted to toss them a bone or two, you know, take a nice long time to bend over and pick my packages up out of the car, put an extra wiggle in my step for them…things like that. But I was damned curious about that package in the office, so I let them off with a couple of quick dips and bends that gave them plenty to fuel their adolescent appetites for awhile. Besides, just giving them a peek at the new, improved me was more than they deserved anyway.

Fortunately, the manager was busy with a prospective renter when I arrived at the office to claim my package. I just waved the little yellow slip at him and headed for the back room where packages were kept. Although he did give me a second and third look as I walked by, the look in his eyes told me that he wasn’t thinking one damn bit about whether I was a tenant or not. I gave him a quick, but sultry smile as I passed through again with my packages in tow.

I hurried back to my apartment with the several large (but not very heavy) packages and started ripping them open. The return address didn’t ring a bell and I didn’t remember ordering anything, so my curiosity was driving me crazy. When I finally uncovered the contents, I was totally dumbfounded! There were clothes in the boxes, women’s clothes…incredibly sexy, adult, x-rated women’s clothes! This stuff made all the things I had just bought look like Sunday-school wear. Among the items were incredibly sexy lingerie sets, including garters, stockings and gloves, impossibly high stiletto-heeled shoes and boots, and other amazingly sexy items! But the topper was a black latex outfit with micro-mini skirt and thigh-high boots to match!

I couldn’t believe my eyes! Where the hell had this stuff come from? I checked the invoice and found that I had ordered it all myself online a couple of nights ago (during one of my alcohol-induced internet binges.) I didn’t remember doing it, but there was my address, my name, my credit card number…everything! I began to wonder if this was all that I had ordered. After a quick call to my credit card company, I found that there were two more orders out there somewhere on the way to me. But what exactly I had ordered was completely unknown to me!

I looked over my new bounty as a whistle escaped my lips. Jesus! Just looking at those things lying out on the bed was giving me goosebumps (among other things!) My planned afternoon photo-shoot had suddenly taken a decidedly wicked turn, that is, if I could scurry up the guts to actually try any of those things on. I honestly didn't know if I could handle what might happen if I did! I mean, I had only seen those kinds of outfits in X-rated movies and on the internet where they had fueled many a satisfying auto-erotic encounters. (i.e. I defiled myself silly fantasizing about women wearing those exact clothes.) Now, I had the opportunity to actually be one of those women…those impossibly unattainable, luridly dick-teasing, sexier than humanly possible women. Did I dare?

Not a heartbeat passed before I had my answer as I found myself stripping off the clothes I was wearing and eagerly reaching for the plum-colored lingerie set. The bustier, panties and matching gloves showcased my body in lace while the stockings and garters encased my long, sexy legs in a purple sheen. I finished off the ensemble with a pair of 4-inch heeled boudoir pumps.

I stepped back to take in the view and almost spontaneously orgasmed! I looked that hot! My body tingled with excitement as I saw my nipples become engorged and felt blood rushing to my nether regions. I actually became light-headed for a moment…I don’t know if it was from the lack of blood to my brain or just being overwhelmed by the flood of emotions and hormones coursing through my body and mind. Whatever caused it passed quickly and I regained my composure. I sashayed to my computer and sent an all-points e-mail to my "admirers" to be on the lookout for some new pics later that night. I then spent the next hour taking some of the most provocative pics I could imagine, without getting downright x-rated. At the time, I didn’t even notice how easily I was managing the new 4-inch heels. In fact, every sexual and sensual movement I made, whether in front of the camera or not, felt perfectly natural, as if I had been doing this for years.

Something happened to me that afternoon. While I was downloading my new pics into the computer I started thinking about my eventual online encounters later that evening and came to the realization that it just wasn’t enough. I mean, here I was… a living, breathing, sensual goddess…and all I was doing with it was sending still pictures and chatting. It occurred to me that I was wasting a golden opportunity to really display my new, "natural" talents. I had a brainstorm! But it required another trip out. Reluctantly peeling out of my luscious, new plum ensemble, I quickly redressed in more suitable street apparel. (If you can call a tight miniskirt, low-cut top, and 4-inch heels street suitable.) The funny thing was, I didn't even think twice about the outfit I had opted for. It seemed to me to be the most natural thing to wear for a quick jaunt to the electronics store.

My trip out this time was different than any of the others. Not just my clothes were different…my entire attitude was different. Beforehand, I had been playing a part…but now my every movement, my every word, my every thought oozed sexuality naturally. I wasn't trying to wiggle my ass for the men, or go out of my way to flirt with them…I was doing it without even thinking about it. It was completely and totally natural to me…and I was loving every living, breathing second of it!

If you’re wondering why I was going to the electronics store of all places, I’ll get to that in a minute. But first let me tell you that I’ve been to that very same store dozens of times and have had anywhere from mediocre to miserable experiences with the salesmen there. That is, until this particular visit. Take a look at that last picture again…go ahead, I’ll wait… Now, imagine you’re an electronics gearhead wondering why the hell you’re working on a beautiful summer afternoon when you could be out cruising the roads with your woofers shaking the shingles off every building in a 4 block radius when that vision struts into your store. Let me tell you, I got the royal treatment! I was waited on by the same schmuck who had always treated me like so much monitor lint. But he was falling (and drooling) all over himself when he took one look at me in my tight little miniskirt and equally tight and revealing top. He spotted me looking over the computer videocams…my panties peeking out from under my wickedly short skirt as I bent over to check out the merchandise. He was checking my merchandise out, too…all the way up my long, tanned legs perched atop heels that accented them seductively until they finally disappeared beneath my skirt. He was back there admiring the view for a couple of minutes until he finally spoke up. When he did, I turned toward him, still bent over, allowing him a delicious view down my low-cut top. From that point on, I was in total control! I knew which unit I wanted and what price I was willing to pay, and using my new seemingly innate body language to keep him totally off guard, I was easily able to talk him down to charging me less than cost for the camera. Thanking him sweetly and promising him all my electronics business, I strutted out of the store and headed home.

Once home, I hooked my videocam up to the computer and checked my e-mail. My admirers were all chomping at the bit to see my new pics…little did they know what extra surprise I had in store for them. I ran a couple of tests of my new hardware to make sure the picture quality was good enough…and it was. I quickly changed clothes and logged on…where I was immediately swamped with messages. I responded to them all, telling them to go check out my new web page if they wanted to see my new pictures. You see, I set up my web page so that the last "picture" they looked at was actually a streaming live video of me in the most outrageous of my new outfits.

I monitored the chatroom quietly, reading all the responses to my pics (every one an enthusiastic "thumbs up"). I paced slowly in front of the camera, waiting for the first reaction to my live video feed. And it was predictably explosive! The word went out immediately that I was live…and everyone wanted a look. And brother, did I give it to them! I was wearing my new latex outfit…the 6-inch spiked heels with thigh-high boots, the micro-mini skirt, and the matching collar and bracelets…and I looked and felt spectacular!! The feel of the latex encasing my body coupled with the erotic image I was seeing in the mirror (and everyone else was seeing on screen!) was doing double duty on my psyche! The raw sensuality, sexuality and power I felt coursing throughout me was intoxicating and overwhelming…I was a goddess and I now had my worshipping followers to prove it!

Chapter Five

It's hard to describe how I felt when I awoke the next morning. I was both exhausted and exhiliarated! Exhausted from being up half the night online... exhiliarated from enticing and seducing countless men who visited my site. At first, they demanded things of me, ("Take it off, baby!"..."Show us your wooly!"...what imbeciles!) but I knew who had the power and who was really in control, so I quickly set the appropriate tone...letting them know that they would see only as much of me as I wished them to see and only then if they behaved themselves and asked nicely...or even begged. I never stripped in front of the camera, but I did come awfully damn close a few times just to keep them in line!

Checking the totals on my counter, I noticed that I had several thousand hits last night while I was live! I also noticed that I was still getting plenty of hits even though I was obviously offline. Fortunately, I had had the foresight to incorporate a few ads into my web page before I had my grand opening. All in all, I was netting a tidy little profit from my spontaneous, sexual outlet. I had no idea when my next live performance would be, and I made a note saying so on my site. But to keep the throngs happy, I had scheduled broadcasts of my taped performance several times a day. Had to keep the fans wanting to come back for more, don't ya' know!

Getting out of bed, I stretched luxuriantly... loving every new sensation it entailed.

My long, brown/auburn hair cascaded over my shoulders and tickled my back. My breasts, firm and erect, stretched out from my chest toward a reflection across the room I had become exceedingly comfortable with. Atop my glorious tits, my nipples were already hard, anticipating another day of sensuous experiences. It was amazing! In less than a week, I had come to revel in this new, nubile body of mine. All reservations I had on my first day were gone and forgotten. I thanked...no, I blessed whatever unseen power or being that had bestowed this bounty on me. This indescribably sensuous body...one that I could only previously have fantasized about...was now mine, and mine alone, to feel, touch, or be touched as I saw fit. It had encased me, as a cocoon encases a caterpillar, and now I had been reborn as that which I had lusted after for so long. I hadn't asked for it... I hadn't even imagined it happening...but it had, and I couldn't imagine being more excited, intrigued and curious!

Although I had been curious about my "predicament" since the get-go, I awoke that morning with my curiosity pointed in a decidedly different direction. Up to now, I had been content with experimenting with the effects of my new sexuality on the opposite sex...and even then, most of that was in the two-dimensional realm of the internet. But now, I wanted more...much, much more! I wanted to fully test my new feelings and needs in the real world. The teasing, taunting and online banter wasn't enough any more. I wanted the real thing! In other words...I was horny as hell and wanted to get laid!

It shouldn't come as any surprise to you...it wasn't for me. I mean, even though I had never consciously thought about it, I just knew that somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice, a sexy little female voice, had been whispering sweet, but naughty, nothings into my subconscious. I guess the combination of that little voice, my escapades over the last few days and the resulting overproduction of hormones had finally taken its toll on my poor fragile male psyche. (Not to mention that I had always been a naturally horny person.) Now, don't get me wrong! I hadn't just suddenly switched sexual preferences. I hadn't developed a craving for men or transformed into a lust-starved bimbo. I just wanted to get laid...and being a woman now, that usually entailed the services of a male of the species. I know...I briefly considered a lesbian encounter, but my "training" over the last few days had been in the seduction of men. I knew next to nothing about attracting lesbians. (Funny, I had no problem attracting them when I was male.)

After a shower and a light breakfast, I checked my messages, which, not surprisingly took almost an hour. Reading the messages from aroused, lonely men only served to make me more determined to lose my newly reacquired virginity as soon as possible. But how...and to whom? Obviously, I had the equipment to get just about any man I wanted. But how to go about choosing the right one? I could have just walked into a bar and boinked the first guy who hit on me, but where's the sport in that? My answer came to me in the barrage of e-mail messages. Most of them were truly sophomoric and crude in nature, but a few were actually well written, serious and appeared sincere. These guys had already "met" me, interacted with my "demanding" nature, and still they seemed sincere enough to write a well thought out note expressing their desires toward me. (Of course, the fact that I looked dynamite in latex had absolutely nothing to do with it, I'm sure!)

After some thought, I decided an impromptu web appearance was in order.

I e-mailed the few prospects I had, informing them of my planned "webcast", and picked out some clothes to wear. Although I was sorely tempted to find an outfit equally as wicked as my latex one (if that was possible!), I instead opted for a more mainline outfit. After all, I was essentially putting myself up on the auction block, so to speak. I wanted to present a dignified and businesslike demeaner. Keeping that in mind, I chose a pink halter with matching 6-inch pumps and a tight, white miniskirt. A quick check of myself in the mirror revealed the usual...perfection! Sublime, sexual perfection!

It didn't take long for my chosen "suitors" to appear online since they messaged me as soon as they did. Of course, there were others waiting for me too, but I just blocked them and sat down and had a chat with the gentlemen I wanted to talk to. In effect, I guess I was running an updated version of the dating game (without the annoying gameshow host.) I put my cards on the table and told them that I was interested in meeting one of them (without actually mentioning or promising sex, just to hedge my bet.) After about an hour, and a series of questions, answers and double entendres, I whittled the pack down to just two guys. If they were being truthful, they were both nice, well-educated, sincere, had enough money to indulge me, and of course, were physically capable. (Hey, I had been through a lot the last few days...I had a right to be shallow!) The clincher came down to location, location, location. One guy was in LA, the other in Florida. Even though both offered to pay for the flights there, I insisted on paying my own way...all the better to keep my actual identity a secret. I had been to both places before and preferred Florida (it was also an easy commuter flight for me)...so the grand prize (Me!) went to Mel in Florida! (Of course, I quickly sent a private message to the first runner up, Stan in LA, and rationalized my decision for him and promised him another chance when I returned home.)

Okay, you're thinking to yourself..."Are you nuts, or what?! Flying off to meet some guy you met on the internet is just fucking insane!"

Well, normally I'd agree with you, but I'd given this a lot of thought. First, the locals hadn't impressed me much in the last few days. Very slim pickings, if you ask me, so I needed to expand my pool of applicants...thus the internet. Second, insisting on making my own travel arrangements provided me with the anonymity I needed, just in case. Mel had also offered to make hotel reservations for me in Florida, but again, I insisted on making my own, for the same reasons. I also had other plans that allowed me an out if I needed it. Even though we had exchanged pictures, I still wasn't 100% convinced that Mel was all he claimed to be, so I wanted to be able to see him in person before he saw me. In order to do that, I needed a disguise. Mel was expecting a brunette, so I figured I'd go blonde for my little trip to Florida. What better way to blend in, hmm? That way, if I wasn't impressed with what I saw, I could back out before ever actually meeting him and still have some fun in sunny Florida. Oh, yeah...that was the other reason I was doing this. I really wanted a vacation!

Mel wasn't expecting me for several days, which gave me time to prepare for my trip. I needed some ID if I was going to fly and I knew just where to get some. One of the more disreputable frats on campus was notorious for cranking out fake IDs for underage students. If the police knew about it, they hadn't done anything about it because the IDs were so damn good and they just couldn't prove anything. I contacted the guy responsible and, after dropping the right names, set up an appointment with him for the next evening. First, however, I had to take care of my hair. I wanted the ID to match my disguise, so I made another appointment for the next day at a salon to get my hair "blondified". Since I was going to get my picture taken afterwards, I decided to go ahead and get the works done...hair, facial, nails, massage, everything. What the hell? A girl has to pamper herself every once in a while, doesn't she?

Let me just say right here and now...if you ever get a chance to shoot the works in a full service salon, DO IT! I never felt more pampered, fussed over, relaxed, and feminine than I did that afternoon.

And the job they did on my hair...fantastic! I hardly recognized myself! (Of course, that had been happening a lot lately.) I looked like I had been born a blonde. As such, I decided that evening would be the perfect opportunity to test out my new "blondeness". I was supposed to meet "Mr. ID" at one of the local taverns that night, so I donned my heels, my very short shorts, and my way too tight top and headed for the bar.

Okay, maybe I overdid it a little...but I didn't care! My entrance into that bar was show-stopping! I stepped into the doorway (my hardened nipples leading the way, as everyone could clearly see), struck a sultry pose as I looked slowly around the room (I swear I could hear cocks hardening), and finally, deliberately, sexily strutted and swayed over to my contact who had described himself to me over the phone. (He didn't mention, however, the dumbfounded look he'd be wearing, along with that huge growing tent in his shorts.) I was so sorely tempted to give it up for him as a kind of tip for his help, but somehow I managed to get through the evening with my virginity intact and with my brand new ID. Next stop...Florida!!!

Chapter Six

Normally, the flight to Miami would have been rather boring, but for some reason I enjoyed this particular flight more than any other. Could it have been the extra attention I garnered from the (male) flight attendant? He did make sure to lean over (sneak a peak down my blouse) and ask if everything was okay every time he walked up or down the aisle. Or maybe it was seeing so much of the flight crew this time. Most flights, you only see them as you get on or off the plane, if that at all. But on this flight, they made sure to each make one or two appearances back in the cabin...always stopping briefly to ask me if I was enjoying my flight (and taking a nice long look at my legs stretched out between the seats). As I was deplaning, I was actually "escorted" by the entire male flight crew through the airport! They were all very interested in where I was staying, how long I would be in Miami, and what my plans were. The attention was intoxicating! I loved it! Without giving it a second thought, I told them the hotel I was staying at and that I had tentative plans for the duration of my stay but if they fell through I'd love to let them show me the town. Hey! I did need a backup in case Mel didn't work out. Girls just wanna have fun, you know!

I was to meet Mel that evening in the bar of one of the swankiest hotels on Miami Beach, where he had also offered to make reservations for me to stay. For security reasons, I again opted to make my own reservations at a nearby, more moderate, establishment. (I'm still pissed that there aren't any Motel 6's on Miami Beach! ) The first big test of my new ID came when I checked into my hotel. I had put a lot of thought into the name I wanted on my ID...and finally decided on using my own unisex name--"Chris A. Stuart". (The A actually stood for Alexander, but if anyone asked, it was going to be Anne from now on.) I know it was a risk to use my own name, but I wanted access to my bank account, credit cards, etc... while travelling. Anyway, they didn't give my ID a second look since it matched my credit cards and the picture was obviously me. The room wasn't bad...standard motel fare, and only a short cab ride to the BelleFontaine Hotel where I was to meet Mel in a few short hours.

I spent the afternoon trying to get a feel for the area and the people. I didn't want Mel to recognize me until I wanted him to, so I wanted to see how the women dressed down here. I didn't want to be too conspicuous (until I was good and ready.) While shopping, I found the perfect outfit to wear for my encounter... sleek and sexy without being too obvious. Back at the hotel, I planned my strategies while I dressed and prepared. He was expecting me to be in the bar around 7PM. I, however, planned on being there by 6:30 at the latest. If I arrived at 7, he might look closely enough to recognize me. If I was late, he might assume I wasn't coming at all. Being there early enough gave me the opportunity to get comfortable with the room and watch for him. Then I could make my decision as to revealing myself to him or hitting the town with a couple of cute pilots.

After a short cab ride, I arrived at the BelleFontaine. It was amazing! It made my modest hotel look like a post-apocolyptic slum. You could almost smell the money oozing out of every corner of that palacial resort.

I walked into the bar and every male eye in the place immediately turned toward me. Could you blame them? I looked fabulous, as usual! I was decked out in a classic, tight black minidress that fell less then halfway down my thighs. Although it showed no cleavage at all, the way that dress hugged every curve let everyone know just exactly what lay mere millimeters below the surface. The matching black 5-inch heeled pumps accentuated and exaggerated my long, tanned legs which were in full view of everyone in the room as I perched myself atop an open barstool and ordered myself a glass of chardonney.

Needless to say, I was hit on almost immediately by several guys...almost all at once! Their methods ranged from desparate to disgusting to pathetic. Somehow, I had expected a better class of come-ons in a high-class place like this. After shooting down all of them (which felt pretty damn good!), two rather good-looking guys approached and offered to pretend to be acquaintances in order to fend off any other unwanted advances from the herd. It was a line I myself had tried to use on any number of occasions (and rarely worked), but it was my favorite nonetheless, so I allowed them to stay and struck up a conversation. They were cute, after all, and it did help to pass the time until Mel arrived.

At exactly 7 PM, he arrived. I recognized his face from the pictures he sent, but seeing him live was something totally different. For one thing, he was taller than I expected...about 6'2" it looked like. He was also very well dressed... the Armani suit he wore was obviously tailor made to help display his decidedly masculine physique. He also had a very commanding air about him. The tempo of the room slowed a bit as he entered...several people obviously knew him and acknowledged him with a smile and a nod, which he returned in an almost (but not quite) condescending manner. He was obviously well known and respected here. He crossed the room to the bar where the bartender already had a drink waiting for him. As he looked around the bar, our eyes met briefly and I felt something stir deep within me...something very primal and very sexual. I was getting incredibly aroused by just a brief look from this guy! His eyes left mine and continued to scan the room...presumably looking for me...the lusty tart he had met on the internet. I made the decision right at that moment...I was definitely staying!

Mutt and Jeff were still talking to me, but I was totally unaware of what they were saying. My eyes and mind were fixed on Mel as he surveyed the room and made casual conversation with the occasional acquaintance. How to approach him? Before seeing him, I hadn't given it any thought. I figured my newfound natural sexuality would take care of that for me. But now...I was actually a little unsure of myself. For the first time in days, my confidence was shaken. What the hell was wrong with me?!

Mel's eyes scanned me again, sending another flood of unsettling emotions throughout me, and the answer came to me. I was actually attracted to him. Up to now, all of my flirting and sexual come-ons had been meaningless because I didn't give a rat's ass about the guys I was doing it to. It was easy because it didn't mean anything. But now that had all changed...and it bugged the hell out of me! I really, really wanted him...bad! I don't know what it was. He wasn't a physical Greek god or anything like that (although he was still pretty damn good-looking), but something about the way he carried himself...the way people reacted to him...it made him extremely...desirable! Suddenly, everything had changed. I had been the predator...I had been in charge...I came down here to get laid, have a good time and that was it! But it was different now. I no longer felt that I had the upper hand, even though he hadn't recognized me yet. I felt somehow intimidated by him and the forcefulness he projected. And it was just that forcefulness that attracted me to him so much!

As I sat there, lost in thought, oblivious to all around me, I tried to come up with a way to approach him, but the more I worried about it, the more flustered I became. I was in over my head...I didn't know what to do! Looking up at the clock, I noticed it was already 7:30. If I didn't make a move soon, Mel would think I was a no-show. I looked around the room, but he was nowhere to be seen! I had blown it! I actually began to feel tears well up within me. I was struggling to fight them back when I heard a strong voice behind me.

"I think I like you better as a blonde."

Spinning around on my stool, I came face to face with Mel! His Cheshire cat smile confirmed what I already knew... I had become the prey.

Chapter Seven

I was caught completely off guard, as if it weren't obvious enough by my stammering response.

"I...you..." That was all I could get out before he mercifully cut in.

"Whether your motivation was to surprise me or to disguise yourself from me, I definitely approve of your choice. You're even more stunning than I remember,..."

"Chris," I finally piped up. I had always used the handle Breezy during all of our online correspondances. Now seemed as good a time as any to give him a real name to go with the body.

"Christine," he smiled, took my hand and kissed it as the name flowed from his lips. "What other name could you possibly have? It's as beautiful and seductive as you are."

A tingle shot up my arm and spread like wildfire throughout my body. This guy was good! In a matter of just a few seconds, he had managed to totally disarm all my defenses and send my libido into hyperdrive. I was ready to jump him, right then and there! Fortunately, however, he was on a much more even keel than I was and had obviously made plans other than humping each other on top of the hotel bar.

"I've made dinner reservations for 8 here at the hotel," he said. "I hope that agrees with you."

"Of course it does," I finally managed to utter a full sentence. "I'm not very familiar with the area, so I'm completely in your hands." A leading statement, if I ever heard (or said) one. But he seemed unphased by it, unlike your average male who would have been slobbering all over himself by now.

"Excellent!" he chimed. "I'm rather fond of the cuisine here at the hotel. In fact, all the amenities of this hotel are quite excellent, if I do say so myself."

I wasn't quite sure how to take that last statement, so I just cast him one of my sexy smiles as he escorted me to the dining room. I was still getting long looks from everyone as we passed through the lobby, but they were different now. They weren't just lusty stares from the men, they seemed more respectable somehow. The desire was still there, I could see it, but there was also a strong hint of admiration from both the men and women as they turned to watch us enter the dining room. Whatever the reason for the change in attitude, I liked it. Don't get me wrong! I still loved the attention, the lusty stares, and the perks I received due to my obvious feminine attributes, but the new touch of respect was a nice change.

Mel was right on target about the food and the service at the hotel. Both were absolutely incredible! Besides some of the most scrumptious food I've ever eaten in my life, I had never been waited on and catered to like I was that night. I felt like royalty! I don't know if it was the excellent wine we had or what, but I found myself chatting freely with Mel throughout the meal. Originally, I had been a little concerned with how I would answer his questions about myself...growing up, family, personal life, etc... But as we talked, it was amazing how easily I adapted and adjusted my old life as Chris to fit my current one as Christine. (I liked the way that sounded when he said it, so I decided to keep it.) Of course, I had to embellish a little here and there. (Sometimes a little more here than there.) But all in all, I seemed to pull it all off rather convincingly.

The surprises came when we got around to talking about him. It turned out that the reason everyone here seemed to know him was because he owned the goddamned hotel! No wonder I was getting the different looks. Considering the clout this guy had, they probably figured I must have been somebody pretty damn important. If they only knew!

With that in mind, I wondered myself, why, out of all the gorgeous women out there, had I been selected to spend time with this hotel mogul. I mean, with his money and prestige he had access to the cream of the crop...supermodels, actresses, you name it. When I asked him that very question, all I could get out of him was the somewhat cryptic response,

"Because you're just what I've been looking for."

When I asked him to explain what that meant, he responded with a question that left me rattled.

"You haven't looked like this for very long, have you?" he asked.

I felt my jaw drop down between my tits. How the hell could he have possibly known about me? I began frantically searching for a response...hoping to dissuade his suspicions...when it just blurted out of me,

"You're right. Until recently I didn't look anything like this. It's amazing what a few months of exercise and diet can do to a girls appearance." Would he buy it? Maybe, maybe not. But either way I had to know one thing.

"But how did you possibly know?" I asked. The small, self-gratified smile that snuck across his face then told me that I had niavely confirmed what he had up to now only suspected.

"Your e-mails, your pictures, and especially your website...they all reminded me of a small child playing with and showing off a new toy." I started to get a little offended at that remark, but he continued. "Also, your craving for attention and willingness to show off your body hinted at a person who had never been the center of attention before and was getting a little caught up and carried away in all the excitement."

As I thought about it, I realized he was right. This luscious new body I found myself wrapped in was like a new toy. A toy I loved playing with myself so much that I just had to show it off to anyone who would look...and look they did! In a way, I had actually been acting almost like a bratty, spoiled child who loved to wave her "toys" in front of the other kids, but wouldn't let them play. At least until now, that is. (I mean, that's why I came down here in the first place, wasn't it?)

"The person I met on the web," he continued,"and the person sitting here before me, exude a raw, unabashed sexuality. You seem to want to flaunt your newfound sexuality freely, but since it's all new to you, you're not quite sure how to do it properly."

"Properly?" I shot in with a sly smile of my own. "Considering the responses I've been getting, I think I've been doing rather well..for an amateur, at least." I accentuated my point by wetting my lips, slowly crossing my long legs in plain view of everyone, taking a deep breath (allowing my tits to stretch my dress to its limit) and giving him one of my best come hither looks. The waiter behind him almost lost his tray of linguini, but Mel only looked mildly amused...which was more than a little irritating.

"Oh, I admit you definitely have the assets and the willingness to use them," he mused. "But what I'm talking about is something you have yet to learn."

"And that would be?..." I asked.

"The skills," he stated. "The experience and skills necessary to use your attributes to their fullest in order to achieve your goals. "

"And what goals do you think I have?" I questioned cautiously.

"Well, your short-term goals are obvious," he slyly smiled at me. "But I'm referring to whatever long-term goals you may have. I'm sure you've noticed how much control you now have over the average male."

Well, duh! I didn't say aloud. Instead I smiled innocently, giving him a "who...little ol' me?" look.

"Obviously you have," he smiled knowingly, "which you've been using to your advantage as of late to gain the attention you've been denied for so long."

I was about to interject an objection, but he continued.

"Don't get me wrong, please! I don't deny you your right to tease men the way you have been...you've earned it. Hell, in your place, I just might do the exact same thing. But what I'm talking about in terms of more long-term goals is the absolute continued control over men in every aspect of your life...including personal, business, as well as sexual aspects. You'd be amazed at how much satisfaction and pleasure you can derive from developing and using your skills properly."

I was beginning to get more than a little intrigued. "You keep talking about my skills," I asked. "Just exactly what do you mean by that?"

"Why, I'm talking about the kind of skills necessary for any kind of precision instruments," he replied. "Every craftsman, artist and even laborer must master the tools of his trade in order to thrive at his chosen profession. Your tools are your physical assets, your femininity, and your willingness to use them to your advantage. If you don't mind me saying so however, you're still a novice. You need to practice and refine your skills if you are to become the work of art that I know lies just below the surface. Your appearance tonight, for example. Don't get me wrong, you look fabulous, you really do, but your hair, makeup and dress give the impression of a somewhat conservative business woman. An extremely sexy business woman, of course, but a no nonsense, almost uptight type of woman. I see you as more of a sexually confident free spirit. A woman who dresses as she feels...wearing her sexuality for all to see...and who isn't afraid to let those feelings lead her into whatever may transpire."

And here that's what I thought I was doing. Of course I'm a novice, pal, I was thinking. I've only had these "tools", as you call them, for a little over a week. My "femininity" and "willingness" are only about half that old. Part of me was doing its best to argue with this guy, prove him to be a bag of hot air. But a bigger part of me was absorbing every word, seeing the validity in what he was saying, and wondering where it was all leading.

"Assuming I'm not offended by your remarks," I started, still with a sly smile on my face, "and I half-heartedly agreed with your point of view...what does that have to do with you, me, and this little trip of mine?"

That know-it-all smile of his got a little bigger as he answered. "Why, that leaves us with the pleasurable task of working together as co-artists, if you will, to create in you the aforementioned work of art. That is, if you'll allow me the honor."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! I had spent the last week on the internet shaking my moneymaker, strutting around in some of the sexiest things ever created by man, and flirting with anybody who would listen just to get to this point where I was finally going to see what sex was like from the female point of view. As far as I was concerned, I was the perfect wet-dream for any red-blooded American male. But now, here he was telling me that I was was a rank amateur...that I needed practice...that he could teach me how to use my body better than I had been! I would have been totally furious and stomped out of there in a huff if I hadn't been siezed by an overwhelming sense of curiosity. As sexy as I thought I was, he believed that I could much, much sexier. I hadn't thought it possible, but he obviously did, and the ramifications of that possibility sent tingles throughout my body. They say "curiosity killed the cat", but I wasn't a cat, and my curiosity was getting the better of me. I felt a broad, sexy smile spread across my face as I leaned in toward him with my decision.

"How could I possibly refuse such an intriguing offer," I smiled at him. "I must admit that you've caught me a little off guard with all this, but everything you've said has hit very close to home." I wasn't lying. "I accept your offer and place myself in your capable hands."

The cheshire-cat smile returned to his face, but this time I wasn't thrown off balance by it. Rather, I expected it. If there had been a mirror nearby, I probably would have seen a very similar smile appear on my face as well.

"Well then," he said, extending his hand to me as we rose from the table, "let's get started, shall we?"

Chapter Eight

A was a little apprehensive when we stepped out of the elevator and entered the penthouse suite of the hotel. Like the rest of the hotel, it was immaculate! All four outer walls were tinted glass, allowing most of the light to come in but very little to escape, which provided the sense of both privacy and openness. A private deck ran the entire perimeter of the penthouse allowing a magnificent 360 degree panoramic view of the Atlantic and Miami...all from 30 floors up! The main room was a combination living room, dining room, bar and kitchen...and was large enough to accomodate them all. A wrought-iron spiral staircase led up to the second floor bedrooms, which were separated by the largest and most luxurious bathroom I had never imagined.

As our brief tour ended and we found ourselves back again in the living room, I began to wonder just exactly what his "training" would entail. I was beginning to get a little nervous when there was a knock at the door.

"Ah, good. They're here," he murmered, and opened the door. Imagine my surprise when half the entire staff of the hotel salon entered. He pointed them in my direction and they immediately gathered me up and hustled me off to the bathroom. The next hour was almost a blur as they re-did my hair, face and nails to Mel's exacting specifications. When they finished, I wasn't allowed to see the final results and was instead herded into one of the bedrooms where I found a set of clothes lying on the bed waiting for me.

The dress felt as if it were spun from a spider's web, it felt that silky and soft. It was shear, black, diaphonous, tight...and did I mention shear. Holding it up, I could practically see through it unhindered. It wasn't as short as I had expected as it looked as if it would fall to my knees. Thin, black spaghetti straps would hold it in place (barely) once I put it on. I looked around for underwear, but found only a tiny black thong that would do little more than cover the small mound of hair between my thighs. I stepped into the thong and slid it into place, feeling it nestle snugly between my cheeks, knowing that it had all but disappeared there. Sliding the dress up over my body and zipping it into place, I found that my estimate of how it would feel was somewhat understated...although it hugged the entire contour of my body like a second skin, it felt like I was wearing almost nothing...and it felt great! It wasn't quite as transparent as I had previously thought, but looking down, my nipples and aureolis were clearly outlined in black lace as they strained against the material. I stepped into the 6-inch heeled shoes (glad that I had actually practiced at home), gathered myself, and headed for the bedroom door...only to be stopped by a mirror next to the door. This was the first time I had been allowed to see myself since putting myself in Mel's hands...and I couldn't have been more pleased with the results. As incredible as I had thought I looked in the bar and back home and all those other times, they were nothing compared to how I now looked. I was drop-dead gorgeous! My hair, now tinted and streaked, gave the impression of a lion's mane, suggesting a predatory nature, while my eyes and lips had been accented, enlarged to suggest an almost child-like openness and innocence. The overall effect...devastating!!

I stepped out of the bedroom into the gallery that overlooked the majority of the penthouse and saw Mel standing below, his eyes fixed on me, a broad, satisfied smile spreading across his face. I beamed back an equally satisfied smile down to him as I slowly sauntered toward the stairs to make my descent. I don't know how I did it in those heels, but somehow I managed to maintain my composure and reach the main room without falling flat on my face. Stopping in front of him, I performed a quick spin.

"Do you approve?" I asked, knowing full well the answer by the look on his face.

"Heaven sent, Princess! Heaven sent!" He responded breathlessly as he took my hand and gave it another of his long luxurious kisses that sent shivers up my spine. This time, however, he didn't stop there. While I was still caught up in the thrill of the moment, he pulled my whole body closer and pressed his lips to mine, catching me totally off guard. Instead of pulling instinctively away, however, I surprised myself by allowing the kiss to continue. Allowing?! Hell, at that point I was pursuing it as much as he was! I parted my lips slightly, inviting more of the same, as my body pressed closer and closer against his. My nipples, hardened by desire, were buried deep into his chest, his hands caressing my hair, slowly following the curve of my back, and finally cupping my lower cheeks and pulling us even tighter together.

I thought we were rather enjoying it.

Obviously.

But...?

Of course, aren't you?

That's enough! You've had your say, and now its my turn. You're right...we were born a red-blooded American male. But if you'd take a close look, sweety, we ain't one anymore. This body is the farthest thing from being male that I can imagine, and I find it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to consider myself a male when I look and feel like this.

Don't interrupt! I thought you'd be happy the way we turned out. Wasn't it you who spent our formative years oggling centerfolds behind locked doors under the covers? We spent years wishing we could get our hands on a body like the

ones in those magazines. Well, guess what partner? We've got free access to one now. And it could put any of those others to shame! Just picture it... this body in one of your favorite little magazines. Go ahead...I'll wait...

Hmmm... I like that, too! It's nice to know we agree on something for a change. Now, since we both agree that we now have a world-class, dynamite, sexier than possible, centerfold-type female bod how can we not take advantage of its full potential? I mean, look at us! How can we keep that locked away from the rest of the human race? It's just not ethical.

I'm not done yet! We don't know how we got this way and we don't know how, or if, we'll ever change back, but whatever the cause, I think we should take advantage of our unique situation. We've been given the opportunity to experience life from a totally different point of view...something very few people can lay claim to. For all we know, we could wake up tomorrow and be male again, and before that happens, I want to get as much out of this experience as possible. And the only way I know how to do that is to go with the flow that the body tells me to. And right now, this body is telling me all sorts of very interesting things! Don't tell me you can't feel it, too?

A little? Then you're not doing it right. Stop closing yourself off and allow yourself to feel what our body is experiencing. Go ahead…relax, open your mind…let the sensations run freely through you. Feel that tiny thong sliding between our cheeks... feel our hair cascade over our soft shoulders as he runs his hands through it...feel our breasts pressing tightly...

Of course it is! And it'll feel even better if we wrap this up and get on with it. What do you say...?

The increasing moistness in my dampening thong had convinced my mind what my body already knew... I wanted him inside me... and I wanted him inside me now! Even the last remnants of my male machismo had succumbed to my new female desires. I was finally 100% ready, willing, and eager to allow myself to be sexually ravaged. My nipples were hard, my pussy was wet…I was on the precipice when he suddenly, gently, but firmly, separated himself from me and stepped back!

"What’s wrong?" I asked breathlessly. What the hell had I done wrong? What the hell had he done wrong…besides leaving me hanging out to dry, so to speak!

"What are you feeling right now?" he asked me. He was holding me at arms length, looking me directly in the eyes, as if looking for something in particular.

"What am I feeling?!" I answered in an exasperated voice, "Isn’t it obvious? The whole evening so far has built up to this point…the dinner and drinks, the personal salon treatment, the new clothes, the new look, that kiss…! Do you need me to actually say it?"

"Yes!" he stated firmly, as if he was on the brink of a dramatic breakthrough, "Say it out loud!"

"I’m horny, damn it!" I almost shouted. "I’ve never been so completely and thoroughly aroused in my whole goddamn life! I was on the brink of a total sexual meltdown until you broke free and started this little analysis session of yours." I was starting to get pissed. No, strike that. I was pissed!

"I apologize for the abruptness, angel," he started, "but that’s exactly how I want you to feel when we go out. Horny, aroused, and on the brink!"

I didn’t understand. "I don’t understand," I whined. "What’s the use of getting me all hot and bothered when you’re not going to do anything about it? It doesn’t seem very fair…and not very nice either."

"Oh, don’t get me wrong," he answered with a sly grin, "I’ll definitely take care of you later." That caught my attention and improved my mood a little. "But the first step in your ‘training’ is to change your attitude, especially when you appear in public."

I still had a confused look on my face, I’m sure.

"As sexy and beautiful as you are naturally, imagine the impact you’d have if you were also perpetually horny, aroused, and on the brink. The aloofness would disappear, replaced by a warm (if not scorching) approachability. You would become a much more active participant in the social settings, rather than just settling for the passive eye-candy approach. Let’s also not forget the biological advantages of you being in an aroused state… your increased pheromone output would have a devastating effect on every male in your sphere of influence."

I was starting to understand, a little. "You mean, you want me to be sexually aroused in public?"

"All right," I smiled up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "But I think I’ll need a little ‘re-arousal’ before we go. I mean, you do want to be proud of me, don’t you?" I was rubbing my body up against his, smiling sweetly, and whispering in my best ‘bad little girl’ voice.

"I’m already very proud of you, angel," he whispered back. Fifteen minutes later we were cuddled inside his limo, off to what I was sure to be one of the most interesting, if not enlightening, evenings of my life.

Chapter Nine

For what seemed like an eternity (but was actually only about 30 minutes), Mel worked his sensual magic on me… keeping me close to the orgasmic edge, but never bringing me over the precipice. By the time we finally pulled up in front of our destination, a very swanky, but modern-looking mansion, I was hornier than I had ever been (or thought anyone could be) in my entire life! I was beyond horny… I was craving sex! I was actually having trouble thinking straight. As he walked me up to the looming front door of the mansion, my mind was lost in thought, dreaming of eventually continuing and finishing what we had started. My thoughts were interrupted by Mel, who I realized was talking to me.

"How do you feel, Angel?" he asked. Was he kidding me?

"Well," I replied with a sly smile, "why don't I show you how I feel, hmmm?"

With that, I leaned into him and pressed my lips tightly against his, opening them slightly as my tongue caressed the insides of his lips. At the same time, my hand quickly found its way to the bulge of his pants and squeezed him firmly, showing him that I meant business. He responded in kind for a moment, returning my kiss and caressing one tit before softly, but firmly disengaging himself from my grasp. Smiling like a proud parent, he gave me a final once over with his eyes before ringing the bell.

"I think you're just exactly where you need to be to enjoy this evening," he said. "Just let your feelings and your body guide your actions this evening and I promise that you'll learn more about yourself than you thought possible."

Before I could respond, the door opened and we were ushered into the house and out back to a lavish patio/pool/garden/everything! I had only seen pictures of places like this before…it was breathtaking! From the looks of things, we were among the "beautiful people" of the Miami area. The clothes, the jewelry, the (obvious) plastic surgeries…everything screamed money. We spent the first hour or so mingling among the money. Actually it seemed more like Mel was showing me off to them… keeping his hand on my ass as he introduced me to just about every man at the party. I was more than happy to respond in kind…cooing, flirting, and nibbling on his ear whenever he gave me the chance. The looks I was getting from the male contingent of the gathering left no doubt about their desire for me and their jealousy of Mel. Needless to say, it was an incredible turn-on! The combination of Mel's hands on me plus the lustful stares from all the men was keeping my libido at peak level. Mel was right…being perpetually horny was having a devastating effect on the men around me, as well as the number it was doing to me.

After we had made a full circuit of the party, making damn sure that every male there had checked me out, Mel took me aside and surprised the hell out of me.

"I've got some business to attend to," he said. "It may take me several hours. Remember what I told you earlier…and enjoy yourself!" Before I could respond, he slid me a passionate kiss and was gone, leaving me alone, confused, and very, very horny!

Now, I'm no dummy. It was obvious to me even then that this was Mel's attempt to force me to go solo for a few hours. Considering the surroundings, the situation, and my heightened hormone level, I was more than happy to oblige. (In other words, I didn't have much of a choice.) Procuring a glass of champagne from the bar, I eyed the crowd (noting that a good chunk of them were also eyeing me), picked the direction with the most possibilities, and slowly began trolling for a nibble.

It was amazing how confident I felt walking through that party. Maybe it was a combination of the champagne and my hormones, but I didn't care…I knew that there were plenty of men there who wanted to get there hands (among other body parts) on me, and I wanted that to happen, too…so badly I could almost taste it! But I also knew that I was in control… I would choose the fortunate recipient of my lust… and I would dictate the rules of the encounter to come. This would be my little private party, and if they didn't follow the rules of the house, they wouldn't get to play.

As I worked my way through the party, I must have started up a dozen small flirtations with prospectives, only to end them all rather abruptly when I realized that he didn’t meet my rather demanding standards. Although I was doing what Mel had suggested, letting my feelings and my body guide my actions, there was still just enough common sense sneaking in to temper my judgement. Let's face it, a girl like me can afford to be picky.

I had been trying to work my way toward one particularly attractive prospect all evening, but I could never catch him alone, until I finally cornered him near the bar as we were both refreshing our drinks. I complimented him on the fit of his suit and he complimented me on the fit of my body and my obvious good taste. A few brief minutes of small talk, peppered liberally with sexual innuendoes and double entendres, and I knew that he was the one. The increasing moistness of my pussy, the hardness of my nipples, and the noticeably large bulge in his pants all screamed to me that I needed to drag this guy off somewhere…and somewhere now! Fortunately, Dave (that was his name, by the way) knew his way around the mansion, and in no time had secured us a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and a bedroom far from the general public.

As soon as the door closed behind us, I could feel my self-control slipping a little. My feminine desires and animal instincts were starting to take over completely, leaving what little common sense I had left by the wayside. As he set the champagne and glasses on the nightstand, I slowly and sensually strolled across the room toward him like a cat in heat. As I reached him, I stepped right into his arms, pressing my body tight against his, and presented my lips up to him. I wasn't disappointed as he immediately responded with a soul shattering kiss that left me weak in the knees. He slid the straps of my dress of my shoulders and slowly pulled it to the floor, leaving me completely naked except for my panties and heels. I almost ripped his shirt off trying to undo the buttons, so he gently but firmly pushed me back onto the bed while he finished to undress himself for me. As he finished and stood there before me in all his naked glory, I eagerly peeled away my now sopping panties and gave him a look that said "If you don't take me now, I'll scream!"

He obviously understood, and quickly joined me on the bed, positioning himself over me, kissing my face, my neck, my breasts…slowly working his way down. I had fully expected and anticipated that he would immediately go the more satisfying route for him and opt for the basic missionary sex, but this detour he was taking surprised and delighted me no end! Opening my thighs slightly, he continued his descent with his tongue…first tickling my navel, then slowly, sensually kissing and licking my nether region… it was incredible! A moan escaped my lips as he teased me with a slight thrust of his tongue into my pussy… which resulted in an immediate further spreading of my thighs on my part… inviting him to repeat. And he did… over and over again…each time a little deeper… I was being driven insane with ecstasy! I was squirming wildly beneath him… my hips thrusting up to force his tongue deeper within me… but his strong hands kept me in place, prolonging my torture. A low guttural sound began to emanate from deep within me, almost a growl as I began to claw at his upper back, pushing his face deeper within me, when he suddenly stopped and repositioned himself directly over me again. I opened my eyes and looked up at him with a glazed-over look. Our eyes met for an instant as I felt a warm droplet of moisture fall onto my inner thigh. He then thrust himself deep inside me as I simultaneously let out a muffled cry as every already primed nerve-ending in my pussy was subjected to the most intense sexual stimulation to date. He repeated his thrusts… over and over… my legs automatically wrapped themselves around him, pulling him deeper and deeper with each thrust. My hips were bucking to match his rhythm and before long I could feel him tensing up, ready to release. The realization that he was about to lose himself inside me was enough to push me over the edge, and I came… passionately, violently, and completely! I don't know how loud I was because every sense was centered on my orgasm. As he let loose with his final thrust, a slow, deep, satisfied groan spread from his lips as he exploded his seed throughout me… I had never imagined how intense it could have felt…how could I? After an undeterminable amount of time, we both finally collapsed into each other, exhausted.

Did I say exhausted? Perhaps I was a bit premature, because within seconds I could feel my desires returning… at an even more intense level than before. I didn't think it possible! Although I had brought myself to repeated orgasms before back home, I would have thought that an experience as intense as the one I just had would satisfy me. It didn't! In fact, I was actually hornier than before! Now, I knew from experience what the average male was capable of immediately following sex, and what it took to re-arouse him. What I was about to do had never even entered into the realm of possibilities for me, but I needed him back into shape, so to speak, and by this time my body (my ultra-feminized intensely horny body) was calling all the shots. With that in mind, I rolled over on top of him and began to mimic his earlier performance. I slowly kissed down his chest, over his taut stomach, tickled his navel with my tongue, and continued downward until I reached my sticky, semi-flaccid destination. Without hesitation, I slowly began licking the sides of his semi-soft shaft, removing every drop of the salty coating. It never even occurred to me that I should have been disgusted by the whole thing, but instead I found myself enjoying the experience…enjoying it a lot! I continued by wrapping my lips around him and slowly taking him inside my mouth. I immediately could feel a response from him as his shaft stiffened a little a grew in length. Encouraged, I continued my 'massage' by wrapping my lips tighter around him as I slid them up and down over his ever-lengthening member. Soft moans began to emanate from his tired lips as I accelerated my thrusts… accompanying them with increasing suction. I soon found myself enjoying it so much that I forgot my original plan for his now re-erected shaft. Although I could sense him tightening up again, readying for another release, I continued my facial thrusts until he exploded down my throat, forcing me to swallow again and again else gag and possibly hurl.

At the time, it didn't even occur to me how completely my new feminine self had taken over. I had just willingly and eagerly given my first blowjob and it hadn’t even phased me. In fact, even though it was completed, I was still sucking away at him, milking him for every drop and draining him dry. After a moment or two, I finally realized that I had just sucked dry my best chance of sexual satisfaction. Dave was exhausted, spent… he wouldn't be any good to me for awhile yet, and I was still hornier than ever. What was I going to do? My answer was presented to me within seconds when I heard a soft knock at the door accompanied by a voice saying,

"Dave? You in there?"

Before either of us could say anything, the door opened and in stepped one of the guys that Dave had been hanging around with all evening (that is, before I dragged him off.) The lights in the room were dim, but my eyes were accustomed to it already, and I liked what I saw… fresh meat! Knowing his eyes would adjust any second, I struck a provocative pose and waited for his reaction.

When his gaze fixed on me and I could see his pupils dilate, I knew he was finally seeing what I wanted him to see… me. Standing there motionless, he reminded me of a deer caught in a car's headlights. I figured it was my job to break the silence.

"So," I purred, "See anything you like?"

"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't know…"

"Don't be sorry," I cooed, "I'm glad you're here. Dave's taking a little breather for a while, so I need something to keep me busy until he's fully rested. Any ideas?"

And that was all it took. For the next few hours, I alternated between Dave and his friend Steve… when Steve would wear out, Dave would be raring to go, and vice-versa. Between them, they were almost as insatiable as I was… almost. I don't know how long we kept it up (no pun intended), but it must have been close to 3 or 4 AM when they finally limped out of the bedroom and I curled up happy and content and fell asleep.

Chapter Ten

I awoke around mid-morning feeling surprisingly well-rested. The memories of the previous night poured over me as I lay there reveling with each mental image I could conjure. Dave and Steve were incredible! I was incredible! A fleeting thought suggested that I should be ashamed for my behavior, but like all fleeting thoughts, it was soon ignored and forgotten. I had nothing at all to be ashamed for… I was just satisfying a basic human need, for both myself and those other lucky gentlemen. And it was amazingly easy! Once I had resigned myself to the fact that I wanted sex and was going to get some, the rest was just as easy and natural as falling off a rock. I knew then that I’d be falling off rocks whenever I got the chance.

Sitting up in bed and stretching luxuriously, I noticed that someone had recently left a breakfast tray. I was halfway through a bagel with cream cheese before it occurred to me that I had no idea where I actually was. Mel had brought me here the night before and I hadn't seen or heard from him in almost 12 hours. At least the breakfast told me that I was being treated like a welcome guest as opposed to a party leftover.

Finishing my breakfast, I looked around for my dress but it was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I found a short, silk robe draped over the chair where I thought I had left my dress the night before. As soon as I had it wrapped around me, there was a soft knock at the door accompanied by a voice asking if I was presentable. Giving myself a quick once over, I told whoever it was to come on in. When the door opened, a short, well-dressed, middle-aged man stepped in. I figured he had to be the owner of the house.

"And how did we sleep?" he asked with a slight British accent. "I hope everything was comfortable for you."

"Oh, the bed was fabulous," I was still a little off balance so I stammered a bit. "I'm so sorry to be an imposition to you. I just, well, I needed to lie down for a while last night, and next thing I knew it was morning. I hope you don't mind." I didn't know if he'd be pissed or not if he knew I had spent the night sexually assaulting two of his guests, so I decided to tell a little white lie, just in case.

"Oh, it was no trouble at all," he looked surprised and a little taken aback. "Mr. Anders told me you'd be staying the night, so I made preparations for your stay."

"Mr. Anders?" I asked. "Isn't this your house? And who is Mr. Anders?" Now I was getting confused.

"Oh, dear no," he replied with a smile. "Mr. Anders is the owner of this estate. You met him last night. I'm his personal assistant, Geoffrey."

My mind began to think back to the previous night. I had met dozens of men at the party, but the name 'Anders' didn't ring any bells. And how did he know I'd be spending the night, anyway?

"Mr. Anders had some business to attend to this morning," Geoffrey continued. "He asked that you make yourself at home, enjoy everything the estate has to offer, and he would join you for lunch around noon."

Hang out at an estate all morning? Well, twist my arm.

"Oh, by the way," he concluded. "The dress you wore last evening is getting cleaned, but there is a wide assortment of clothes in the closet which I am sure will fit you. Please feel free to help yourself to whatever you like, and if I can be of any assistance, don't hesitate to call for me."

After he left, closing the door behind him, I headed for the closet to find racks among racks of some of the most beautiful and sexy clothes I had ever seen. The dresser was also full of the most luxuriously sexy lingerie imaginable. I felt like a kid in candy store. I wanted to try on everything, and practically did! After getting through about half the closet, I came across the swimwear section, and remembering the gorgeous pool out back, decided to go for a swim. Feeling especially girlish and sexy, I picked out a sexy little pink two-piece with frills and a pair of high-heeled sandals.

"Well, there’s sunscreen in the cabana, Miss," he answered, "and if you need anything at all, please just give me a call." And with that he was gone.

As I lay there poolside, my mind began to wander. I imagined that I lived in this incredibly beautiful (if not a little decadent) lifestyle for real. If the previous 24 hours had been any indication as to what this lifestyle was like, I wanted it. It suited me perfectly, and I into it. As I lay there lost in my fantasy, I decided to indulge it as much as I could while I had the chance and dropped my top to bask in the glow of total, hedonistic comfort. Lying there as the sun warmed and tanned my perfect body, I lost track of time. I was still fantasizing about my dream life when I heard Geoffrey clear his throat and I opened my eyes to see him and Mel standing nearby, obviously taking in the view.

I started to cover myself, but Mel stopped me.

"Please, Angel," he smiled as he approached me, "don’t cover up on our account. The view is divine and it seems so perfectly natural to you." I thought he might have been a little ticked at me for spending the night there, but he seemed very happy to see me.

"I hope you’re not angry with me," I pouted slightly. "I’m afraid I got a little carried away last night. I didn’t mean to abandon you like that." I was standing now, the cool ocean breeze hardening my exposed nipples as I walked slowly toward him.

"Angry?" he exclaimed. "Why, Angel, you did everything I told you to last night. How could I possibly be angry with you?"

"Well, I assumed you’d probably come looking for me, and when I wasn’t there…"

"I knew exactly where you were, Angel," he boasted. "Nothing goes on in my house that I don’t know about."

His house?! "Your house?"

"I guess I did keep that from you didn’t I," he confessed. "But I wanted to give you a real baptism of fire, so to speak, and if you had known that it was my house, well… you might have reacted differently to the situations. All in all, I think everything turned out rather well, don’t you?"

I could feel a blush spread across my face. As unabashed, extroverted and sexually relentless as I had been the night before, here I was blushing when I realized that Mel knew about everything! I felt like a little girl who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Nothing to do but ‘fess up.

"Well, if you know everything that goes on here," I purred with a twinkle in my eye, "then you know how well things turned out, don’t you, you master manipulator, you?" My long, slow stroll toward him ended at that point with me pressing my sun-warmed, firm breasts into him as I stood on my toes and planted a short, but passionate, kiss on his lips. He immediately responded by wrapping his arms around me, pulling me tight, and kissing my hair lightly.

"Ahhh, birds of a feather, Angel," he whispered into my ear, "birds of a feather. That’s why I selected you… I sensed your amazing potential for sexual persuasion and manipulation. Between my mind and your lovely body, there’s nothing we won’t be able to conquer or obtain. How does a partnership like that sound to you, hmmm?"

A partnership… with Mel? Living in the lap of luxury… having my needs catered to… and all I had to do was keep myself sexually fulfilled… talk about a no-brainer! I didn’t have to think about it at all, but I did want him to squirm a little bit before I gave him my answer.

"Well…", I started in my best sexy-little-girl voice, "I don’t know about that." His eyebrows raised at my feigned hesitation. Obviously, he wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted. "I seem to remember somebody promising, and I quote, ‘I’ll definitely take care of you later!’ Well, it’s a lot later, and I’m still waiting to have that promise fulfilled." I was looking up into his face with a wickedly sexy grin, which he immediately returned.

"Well," he replied sternly, "never let it be said that I ever welched on a promise. No matter how disgusting or pleasurable that task may be, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do!" And with that, he picked me up and flung me over his shoulder, giving me a mild spank on my tanned bottom. I squealed with delight as he carted me off through the mansion to the master suite where we spent the next day and a half ravaging each other behind closed doors.

It was during those 36 hours that I decided to tell him the whole truth about myself. I chose a brief moment between ‘marathons’ when he was getting us something to drink. As I lay on the bed watching him, knowing how completely intimate he had become with my body, I knew there was no way he could take me for anything but a real woman. In fact, I had become a real woman, body and soul! I don’t know when it had happened exactly, but all I knew for sure was that there was no part of the male Chris left in me at all. I was now Christina, his Angel, and would be from here on out.

When I told him, he didn’t seem surprised at all! In fact, he hardly reacted in any way. Instead, he took me in his arms and said, "Who or what you were before we met is immaterial, Angel. It’s who and what you are now that matters to me. Tell me who you want to be and that is who will be from this day forward."

I felt tears welling up within me as I choked out my response. "I’m your Angel… Christina. I always have been, and I always will be, if that’s what you want."

Within days of finally leaving the master suite, Mel had created my new identity and whitewashed over the old one. A letter of explanation to my parents wasn’t received very well at first, but a follow-up from Mel and his lawyers helped sooth their confusion and anger. (I had always suspected that they were rather mercenary folk.) They never visit, but I still keep in touch with them. Someday, I’ll have to make a surprise visit, but they’re hard to pin down. They like to use their new-found wealth to travel extensively.

It’s been almost two years since that fateful morning and I never imagined that I could be this happy with my life. Over the course of our partnership together, Mel and I have acquired a number of media corporations, including magazines, film and even a modeling agency or two. My new resources allow me to continue the "exhibitionistic" tendencies I first started on the internet… but on a much larger scale. Whenever I get the urge to ‘show off’, I just contract a photo shoot in one of my magazines. I’m even toying with the idea of videos. Let’s just say that I’ve become the belle of the erotic media.

I never learned how or why I changed in the first place. At times, I suspect that Mel might have somehow had something to do with it. Or it could just have been Nature balancing her books by correcting a mistake made at my initial conception. Whatever the case, it doesn’t matter now. As far as the world is concerned (and myself), I have always been Christina Rawlins… a relatively unknown young beauty who, through innovative marketing techniques and powerful financial backing, turned a hobby into a multi-million dollar corporation. In other words, I’m one of the wealthiest centerfolds in the world!

So… what did you look like when you woke up this morning, hmm?