This story is rated X and should be avoided by the sort of clear-eyed,
clean thinking people who might get upset about such things as well as
anybody under the age of 18, who, as such, is obviously too innocent to
be reading such trash.

She's a gypsy, a gypsy princess to hear her tell it.  No, they call
themselves Romany, not gypsies.  Anyway, Marya's the sort of girl that'd
make most anybody stop roaming.  Long black hair, down to her waist
when she lets it loose; a figure with plenty of girl where you want plenty
of girl and very little where you don't.  She had dancer's legs that went
almost up to her neck, it seemed, and she knew how to move on them,
gliding along gracefully like some sort of sexual animal letting her body
just "ripple" as she walked. Her voice oozed sex, too, halfway between a
purr and a growl with just a trace of Hungarian accent as sweetener.  But
what got me was her eyes, dark pools that a man could gladly get lost in.

We met at some sort of fund raiser, paired up next to each other at a table
mostly with men too old or too married to be competition.  I took her
home and took her to bed as quickly as I could manage.  If I told you
how great she was, you wouldn't believe me.  (And there's enough else
not to believe in this story.) We dated as often as we could manage after
that.  I was trying very hard to justify the promotion to assistant
department head that I'd just gotten.  She said that she was some sort of
clan leader and had to be available for emergencies or clan business.

When we were together, it was great.  She was full of surprises and fun,
in or out of bed; a great conversationalist who shared -- or claimed to
share -- my interests in music, art, and, oh, just ways to have fun.
Unfortunately, she also had a temper from something out of grand opera.

I'd had to cancel a date at the last minute and fly out to Seattle to meet
with one of our major customers.  It took three days of nonstop arguing
to get them to admit that we weren't at fault for a machine that had
broken down, and another half day to say that they wanted to continue
the $55,000,000 per year contract they had with us.  Signed statements in
hand, I took the "red eye" 3 AM flight back home.

I got into the office that morning with only about an hour of real sleep.
(Time curled up half drowsing in an airplane seat doesn't _really_ count.)
My in-basket was about ready to collapse from the overload, and my
boss --and his boss -- wanted to be thoroughly briefed on what had
happened.  I was just beginning to catch up, when Marya stormed into
my office.  She slammed the door behind her and began to yell at me in
three languages.  But whichever language she used: Hungarian, English,
or Romany, she didn't sound half as sexy as she normally did. She
chewed me out royally for: (1) not giving her enough advance notice
when I canceled our date of four nights before; (2) not telling her how
long I'd be gone; (3) not calling or sending any sort of expensive,
suitably appropriate apology gift while I was away; and (4) not calling
immediately to say that I was back.

The facts that: (1) I hadn't planned on having one of our machines break
down out in Seattle two hour before our date; (2) there was no way for
me to have known how long I'd be; (3) I was too busy to even shop for
the pajamas I'd forgotten to pack and had almost caught a cold without;
and (4) I had planned to call her tomorrow, intending nothing more
strenuous that night than catching up on my sleep didn't seem to matter.
Finally, I lost my temper. "Boy!  Listening to you rant over nothing
makes me glad I'm not a crazy woman like you."
 

She stopped, stared at me a minute, then smiled mysteriously and said,
"Enjoy it while you can, Mike." Then, without another word, she turned
and left.  I went back to work.  The paperwork was going faster than I'd
expected it to, so I decided to stay late and try to catch up.  It was after
six when I decided that I'd made enough of a dent.  The office was long
deserted.  As I got ready to leave, I noticed that the moon was rising over
the top of the buildings to the east.

I felt suddenly dizzy.  Hot.  I thought I heard Marya's voice from far
away, chanting in that crazy language she spoke sometimes when she
was angry. "Just the radio", I figured, but from where?  I knew that I was
alone in the office. I felt my skin begin to tingle all over.  I thought that
the cold I'd missed getting in Seattle had managed to catch up with me
after all. Then I felt a -- I don't know -- a "tightness" all over my body.
My hands seemed to be shrinking somehow.  I figured a drink of water
might help, but when I got up to go to the water cooler, I nearly doubled
over from a sudden weird feeling in my gut.  Not a pain really, but more
as if things - organs -- were moving around under my skin.  My chest felt
funny, swelling, pushing against my shirt.  My vision blurred.  When, I
grabbed for a chair, I noticed that my jacket sleeve had become too long
somehow, reaching almost down to my fingers.  Then I blacked out.

I woke up on the floor.  The dizziness was gone, but I had trouble getting
up. My body felt "wrong", as if my center of balance had changed.  I felt
different, weaker.  And my clothes had become several sizes too large.
When I pushed back one sleeve, I noticed that my hand was much
smaller with long slender fingers and pointed nails, at least a half inch
long.  In the confusion, I realized that Marya must have done something.
Worked some kind of gypsy magic on me.  I suddenly remembered all
those old horror movies where a gypsy curse turned some poor guy into
a werewolf.

I jumped to my feet and ran to my office closet.  I had a mirror on the
inside of the door.  I pulled it open expecting to see long hair, bushy
eyebrows, and fangs.  I saw long hair, all right.  Down past my
shoulders. But the eyebrows looked plucked, and, whatever fangs there
might be, were hidden by a pair of full, sensuous lips.  It was my face.
But softer.  My nose was smaller, almost cute, and my cheekbones
seemed higher.  A woman's face and, I had to admit, fairly pretty, even
without any make-up.

In a panic, I pulled at my shirt.  Buttons ripped.  My new breasts were
pretty nice; soft yet firm, and round as melons.  At least a B-cup, I
guessed.  The nipples were large and erect from my excitement.  They'd
have been great to look at on some other girl.  But this was my own
chest.

I reached down into my pants expecting the worse.  And found it.  Or,
rather, I _didn't_ find it.  No nice, familiar prick, just a vertical slit. My
fingers explored inside.  It found something -- the clit -- and not
knowing what else to do, I began to rub.  Oh, Lord, it felt good!  Then I
realized what I was doing and pulled my hand away as if I'd touched a
hot stove.

I knew that I had to get out of the office.  "Get to Marya's," I thought.
"Do whatever you must to get her to change you back." Only, how to get
to Marya's. I looked in the mirror again.  I was easily a good six inches
shorter than before.  A women "swimming" in clothes that obviously
weren't hers and with no ID that matched my new body.  Wait a minute!
I did have cash for a cab.  It had been raining all day, luckily.  That
meant that I had my raincoat to cover the now oversized clothes.

Still, I felt that I should wear something else under the coat.  My pants
were now way too long, and they were barely staying up anyway around
my new, narrow waist.  The last notch of my belt was inches too loose to
be of any help, but the belt was too stiff to tie in a knot.  I could hardly
walk around holding up my pants in a big ball at my waist.  And they'd
look awful funny rolled up at my ankles.
 

Fortunately, I'd worked late enough times to have seen the cleaning crew
for my building.  They wouldn't be there yet, thank heavens, but they had
a small storage room just down the hall from my office.  I snuck down to
it and checked to make sure nobody was around.  (As an assistant
department head, I had keys to most of the rooms on the floor.)

Inside on a table were a couple of bundles from some laundry.  I opened
them and found a bunch of work clothes, pants and shirts for the men
and smocks for the women. The pants were all for men my former size
or bigger.  I took one of the smocks back to the office to try on.  It was
still too big, but it fit a lot better than my pants.  And it hid where I'd
ripped the buttons off my shirt.  I kept on my man's underwear, pinning
my shorts to my undershirt to keep them up.  There'd been no women's
underwear in the storeroom.  Even if there had been, at that point, I don't
think that I could have worn them.

I bundled up my jacket and slacks into my briefcase and went outside.  It
was really strange standing out in front of the building as a woman.  I felt
the breeze swirl around my bare legs.  I was exposed, vulnerable in a
way that I'd never dreamt of being, and I wanted very much to be myself
again. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait too long.  A cab pulled up to
drop off some people in front of my office building.  I got in and gave
the cabby Marya's address.

Marya's place had once been a factory, and her apartment was about half
of the top floor.  "Nice quiet place for a gypsy witch," I thought to
myself as I rode up in the elevator.  "Stay calm," I reminded myself, "or
you might be wearing dresses a long, long time."

I knocked on the door.  "Just a minute, Miss Ryan," came the voice from
inside.  She knew!  The door seemed to open by itself, and I walked in.
The place was dark, curtains drawn and only a few candles for light.  I
could smell some sort of strange incense.  Marya walked into view.  She
was wearing only a garter belt, black fishnet stockings, and what had to
be at least six inch heels.  Her long dark hair was unbraided and hung
down almost to her waist.  Damn, she looked sexier than I'd ever seen
her.  If I'd been a man, I'd have fucked her right there.  But now, I felt
nothing.

She reached out and pushed my raincoat off my shoulders.  Then she
touched my breasts with both hands, kneading them through my clothes.
"Not bad. Not bad at all."

"Change me back!"

"Ummm, eventually.  Did you ever hear that old poem:

'Even a man, who says his prayers And stays at home each night, Can
become a beast when the wolfbane blooms, And the moon shines full
and bright.'?"

"What's that got to do with me?"

"That's what you are now, girlie.  A werewolf.  A were-wench, actually.
You'll be your normal, stupid, male self most of the time.  But the three
nights of the full moon, you get these "improvements" from 6 PM till a
half hour after the sun comes up." Her rubbing was beginning to make
my breasts feel tender.  She pinched my nipples, grown erect under my
T-shirt.  "This is only the first night for this month.  Now, strip down,
Honey.  I want a good look at my work."
 

I couldn't think of any way out.  My raincoat was just about off.  I
unbuttoned the smock and let it fall to the floor, leaving me looking
ridiculous in just my male T-shirt and shorts.  Marya put her arms around
me and pulled me to her.  I noticed that she was a bit taller than I was
now and seemed much stronger.  Before I could do anything else, she
kissed me. When I opened my mouth in surprise, she pushed her tongue
in and began to move it around.  It felt good.  Her hand reached down
into my shorts and began stroking the hair around my vagina.  That felt
even more good, and I spread my legs to give her better access.  She
found my clit and rubbed there.  _That_ felt incredible. While she rubbed
with one finger, another began moving in and out of my pussy.  I heard
myself moan, and I felt weak in the knees from the heat that seemed to
be spreading through my body from my groin.  I pressed myself at her
hand and began to rotate my hips in synch with her rubbing.  Marya
laughed.  She picked me up in her arms and carried me to her bed.

As Marya placed me down on the bed, one of her breasts hung near my
mouth. Without thinking, I leaned over and began to suck on it.  She
pulled away. "No, Hon.  Later maybe.  Right now, I want you to get used
to what it feels like as a girl." She bent down and began sucking my own
left breast.  Her right hand tweaked the nipple of my other breast, while
her left hand continued that glorious rubbing down below.  The pleasure
got to me -- I couldn't talk, couldn't think of anything else.  My pelvis
rose and fell with each stroke. My head rocked back and forth.  I could
hear my voice, but mostly I was making noises, sighing and moaning,
not saying words. All at once there was this incredible flood of sensation.
My body arched, lifted off the bed to meet it.  I screamed in pure animal
joy.

And fainted dead away. Again.

I must have been out for a while.  When I woke up, Marya was dressed
normally and sitting on a chair by the bed.  "Welcome back.  A little
overload from the spell got mixed up with the psychic blast of your first
female orgasm.  Don't worry, it shouldn't happen again."  She handed me
the smock.  "Now get dressed, Hon. We're going shopping."

I stood up and put on the smock.  "Shopping?  What for?  Why don't you
just change me back?"

"I can't now, even if I wanted to.  The spell works for all three nights of
the full moon.  I can't remove it until after the full moon ends, three days
from now."

"Three nights," I groaned.

"Yes, and in the meantime, you'll need more clothes than just that rag
you had on.  Hobart's Department Store is just a couple miles from here.
As I recall you have a charge account there, and they're open nights,
now."

I got off the bed and put the smock back on.  She got a sheet of
stationary and a pen from her desk and handed them to me.  "Write," she
said and began dictating.  Thank goodness, my handwriting hadn't
changed.  "To Whom It May Concern: I, Michael Ryan of 435 Clinton
Street in this city, do hereby authorize my cousin,....hmm, what to call
you?  You'll have to answer to it, so let's make it something close....my
cousin, Michelle, to use my charge account at Hobart's Department
Store." She looked at the paper for a minute, then, on a whim, added "up
to my credit limit".  I accepted the inevitable and signed at the bottom.

In fifteen minutes (by cab), we were at the credit office at Hobart's.  "The
airline lost all my luggage, and my clothes got drenched in this rain," I
explained. "Cousin Mike was kind enough to let me buy some stuff to
tide me over, and Marya was kind enough to offer to come along." I
didn't like lying, but -- as Marya had so kindly pointed out -- the
alternatives were to spend the next three evenings in the ridiculous outfit
I was wearing or to try to convince somebody -- anybody -- that I was a
male under a gypsy curse.  Lying seemed much easier.

I'd dated Susan, a credit manager at Hobart's, a couple of months before.
She recognized my masculine handwriting even as she commented on
how much my "cousin" and I looked alike.  Then she wrote "approved"
on my note and gave me directions to the Women's Wear department.
As we were leaving, she told me to "Say hello to Mike" for her and to
ask him to give her a call one of these days.

It was strange, somehow, talking to Susan.  I mean, here was this sexy
woman whom I'd slept with several times, a honey blonde with pillowy
tits and a tongue that could all but tie knots in a cherry stem. We hadn't
fought or anything, just hadn't gotten around to going out again since the
last time. Especially not since I'd met Marya.  In my head, I knew that
she was as attractive as ever, but now, all that seemed to interest me was
the way she'd done her hair and how nice her blouse and shirt looked.  I
didn't think about it then, but I had become a woman inside, too.

We left the office and headed to the elevator.  Riding up, I felt dizzy
again for a minute.  Marya was singing something, but just a little too
faintly for me to make out the words.  I noticed that the dizziness
stopped about the time Marya stopped singing, but I was too relieved to
make any connection.

The elevator doors opened onto "No Man's Land", the women's wear
floor. Dresses and skirts to the left of me, stocking and lingerie to the
right. Marya walked out ahead of me, grabbed a few things off some
racks and pulled me down an aisle after her.  The next thing I knew, I
was in one of the dressing rooms with her.  "Strip," she said in a
no-nonsense tone.

I hung up the borrowed smock on a hook and stepped out of my shoes.
My socks and male underwear got tossed on a low bench along one wall.
Marya handed me a peach colored garter belt with lace trimmed garters.
"You always said how sexy you thought garter belts were," Marya said.
"Now you can see how much trouble they are".

I put it on the way I'd seen her put on garter belts.  Then she handed me a
bra and panties set trimmed in pearl white lace that matched the garter
belt.  I stepped into the panties and pulled them up and over the garter
belt. They felt soft and cool against my skin, so  different from my old
cotton shorts.  The bra was a little tricky.  I leaned my new breasts into it
and put my arms through the straps okay, but Marya had to help me with
the hooks in the back.  My first guess had been wrong.  I was a 34-C.
The bra gave my new breasts support, but the silk moved against my
nipples, tickling them, when I breathed.

Marya handed me a pair of sheer black nylons.  "Bunch one up and put it
carefully around your toes," she said.  "If I'd had the time I would have
painted your nails, but we can do that later.  Now, very, very carefully
pull it up your leg.  That's right.  Be careful not to snag them." With a lot
of care, I managed to get both stockings up.  Marya showed me how to
attached them to the garters, and I felt them grow taut, seeming to caress
my legs.

I stepped into a matching half-slip and pulled it up to my waist.  The
sensation as it flowed against my stockinged legs was amazing.  "Do
women get turned on like this every time they get dressed?" I thought.   I
could tell from Marya's expression that she knew what I had thought.

I didn't want to take chances on high heels, so I asked Marya to bring me
a pair of flats.  Instead, she bought a lovely pair of low pumps.  I was
nervous about them, but I seemed to have very little trouble walking in
them.  I did have to take a smaller step, though, and swivel my hips a
little.  Even without looking in the dressing room mirror, I knew that I
now had a much more feminine walk.

Over all this finery was a pale blue dress that Marya had  brought into
the dressing room with the shoes.  She said showed off my new figure
and seemed to bring out the color of my eyes.  I wriggled into it, noticing
how well it seemed to mold to my altered body.  I knew that I should feel
uncomfortable, a grown man wearing women's clothing, but these
clothes weren't strange or wrong on me.  They were what I felt I should
be wearing.

I hardly noticed that I didn't seem to have very much trouble putting on
things, like a bra, that I'd never worn before.  I looked right, looked
pretty in them.  I turned left and right admiring my reflection in the
mirror, the way my dress clung to the new curves of my bust and my
hips.  I actually felt a sense of physical pleasure from the way I looked.

Marya opened her purse and got out a small cosmetic case.   A little
lipstick and mascara, and I was ready to face the world.  The fact that I
was wearing woman's make-up hardly crossed my mind.

Now that I was dressed, Marya dragged me through the aisles, picking
item after item for me.  She almost always seemed to choose the sexiest,
most feminine things: lacy camisoles and teddies, skirts cut high and
blouses cut low, or blouses sheer enough to see my bra through.  When I
got her off away from the salesgirl for a minute, I asked her about this.
"Isn't it bad enough that you've made me a girl?  Do you really have to
rub it in with all these clothes.?"

She just smiled and led me over to a display of French-cut panties.
"Why, Michelle, I just want you to be dressed your very prettiest for all
the fun that we'll be having together the next three days."

I had only planned to buy one or two sets of clothes; just enough to wear
over the next three nights or until I could convince Marya to cancel the
spell.  But everything was suddenly so very pretty that I couldn't help
myself, and Marya seemed to enjoy egging me on.

We even stopped at the cosmetics counter.  Marya selected several
shades of lipstick and eyeshadow, some blusher, and mascara.  We even
bought three bottles of nail polish that matched the lipsticks.  I was
looking at the growing pile of little bottles, when I heard Marya call my
name.  I turned just in time to get hit with a fine mist of perfume.  I made
a face at the taste of a little that had gotten on my tongue, but Marya just
smiled and said, "A girl isn't really properly dressed, if she isn't wearing
perfume." Then she added in a whisper, "and I do want you dressed as a
proper girl."

The clerk was ringing up my order -- well over $500, when one of the
salesgirls ran over.  I'd left Mike's clothes -- that smock and my male
underwear -- in the dressing room.  They just hadn't seemed like mine
anymore.  I thanked her and stuffed them into one of the shopping bags.
I picked out a purse that I liked, and put in the make-up that I'd just
bought, my wallet, and my keys. "Send everything else to Mr. Ryan's," I
said and gave her the address. I did take a shopping bag, though, it had a
nightgown (the least sexy one Marya had talked me into buying) and
Mike's clothes, including the smock.  I planned to sneak the smock back
into the workroom in a day or two.

We managed to hail a cab without much trouble.  The cabby even
jumped out to open the door for us.  As we climbed in, I noticed that
Marya had also brought a  bag from my shopping spree with us.  Marya
gave the cabby her address, and we sped away.

We almost didn't get to Marya's, though.  The cabby pulled over on a
side street and stopped the car.  "Hey, Babes," he said, turning around to
face us and with a big sexy (sexy?) grin on his face.  "How's about you
forget where you're headed and come over to my place.  I just got some
brand new CDs, and I've got a fifth of good bourbon to go with them."
He reached back and stroked my hair. "We three could have us a real
good time."
 

I didn't know what to do.  Most of me was repulsed by the idea of
spending time alone with this guy, but something, some tiny part, was --
well -- interested.  He was young and fairly handsome. For a second, my
mind flashed the image of him when he'd opened the door to let us into
the cab.  He was wearing very tight pants that had hinted at a really large
penis. And when he'd turned away, I found myself noticing  a gorgeous
pair of buns.  "No!" My mind, what was left of my male self, shouted
down the idea.

Maria bristled.  "We could also go to the Cab Bureau, so I can file
charges of sexual harassment."

That scared him.  "Hey, I was just kidding, Lady.  I really didn't mean
anything, and, if you took it wrong, well, there's no charge for the ride
from here on." He turned around, flipped down the meter,  and started
the cab again.  I sat in the back shaking.  It wasn't from his crude
invitation, but because I knew that I'd almost accepted it.

We got to Marya's apartment building without any other delays.  The
meter showed only $4.85, but I tossed him a ten from my purse.  "Keep
it," I said.  The poor guy couldn't know how wrong his guess about this
fare had been.

When we got inside, Marya began to laugh.  "If you could have seen the
look on your face when that cabby propositioned us.  I was almost
tempted to accept, just to see how you'd react."

"I didn't think it was at all funny."

"Well, relax, Michelle, cause I didn't accept his little offer."  She paused
for a moment and smiled.  "Even if it didn't look so little in those pants
of his."  I blushed and turned away from her knowing gaze.  The elevator
stopped.  Marya let us in to her apartment.  "I've got my own plans for
you tonight, Missy."  We put down the bags from the store.  Then she
turned and suddenly kissed me.  Hard!  I felt my nipples stiffen and push
against my bra.  I opened my mouth in surprise.  Her tongue slid in and
wrestled with mine for a moment.  Then she broke free and stepped
back.  "Well, that was just lovely, but before we go any further, strip.  I
want to see you in all your new finery."

I started unloading the shopping bags, while Marya went into her
bedroom to get something.  Besides my, or rather, Mike's clothes and
that one nightgown, we'd brought home a couple of panty and bra sets,
an electric blue teddy with matching garter belt, two packages of
stockings, some shoes and a dress that I didn't remember picking out, and
a pink "baby doll" nightie. Almost everything was skimpy, sheer, and
extremely feminine.  I took everything out of the two shopping bags and
put them on the table in her living room.

Marya came back in with a portable video camera.  She put it on the
same table and went over to her stereo system.  She must have owned a
couple hundred CDs.  She looked through her rack for a minute or two,
then pulled one out and put it in the stereo.  It was instrumental jazz, low
and sexy with a solid beat.  I recognized the trumpet almost at once.
"Big Joe" Briggs, a local musician who was getting something of a
national reputation.  I was something of a fan of his, and I'd taken Marya
to hear him play at a couple of  clubs.

I started to walk over towards the bar Marya had set up in one corner of
the room.  I knew from experience how well stocked it was, and I figured
that a good whiskey and some good music would make up for a lot of
what I'd gone through this evening.  "Hold it, Missy," Marya said.  "Just
where do you think you're going?"

"Over to get a drink.  Do you want one?"

"I do, but you don't.  Fix me a vodka and tonic and go stand in front of
the couch."

I was so startled that I didn't argue.  I just fixed her the drink and
walked over near the couch.  Marya waited until "Big Joe" finished his
first song.  As the second one, a slow number called "Saturday Blues"
began.  She started the camera.  "Okay," she said.  "Take off your dress."

I looked at her for a minute, not quite understanding.  "Your dress," she
said, sounding a little impatient.  "Take it off."  I wasn't sure what she
had in mind.  She didn't expect me to do a strip.  Or maybe she did.
Well,
I wasn't going to play _that_ game.  I stood perfectly straight and reached
behind to unbutton the dress.  I was very careful not to move in any way
that might match the music.

"No, dammit," she said angrily.  "Strip, girl.  To the music, slow and
sexy."  I was right!  She was trying to embarrass me, and it wasn't going
to work.  I stopped working on the buttons and put my hands at my sides.
Marya put down the camera.

"Oh, all right go have a drink.  Maybe it'll make you more willing to
cooperate."  I walked over to the bar and fixed myself that whiskey I'd
been thinking of earlier.

"That's a nice song," Marya said.  "Sounds a little like an old Romany
tune my Papa used to sing.  She began to sing something.  The words
didn't seem to quite fit the music, but at least she wasn't shouting orders
at me.  It sipped at the whiskey, savoring the nice warm glow it gave me.
The song ended, and a new fast tune came on.  This one was full of fancy
trills that really let "Big Joe" show off his skills.  Marya still seemed to
be singing that old tune of her father's.  Somehow, I could still hear a
little of it over the trumpet.  I finished my drink and walked back over to
sit on the couch.

Just as I got near the couch, "Big Joe" started another slow song.  Marya
picked up the camera and set it on a tripod.  "Feeling more cooperative
now?" she said.  For some reason, I was.  Maybe if I cooperated, she'd
change me back.  I reached my arms up above my head and began
swaying my hips to the music.  Marya turned the camera on and began
watching me through the small monitor on its side.  I touched palm to
palm and began to move my arms as well.  Then I left the right arm
straight up and still.  I slowly moved my left hand down caressing the
right arm as it went.

When my hand got to my shoulder, I slowly moved it behind me and
started to fiddle with the buttons.  My right hand moved back there a
moment later.  I undid the top button, making an exaggerated movement
with my arms to the beat of the music as if to show that I'd begun
undoing the dress.  I repeated the movements with the remaining three
buttons.  Then I brought my hands up to the collar and moved it, so the
dress was just barely resting on my shoulders.

As I did that, I stopped for a second and wondered _why_ I was being so
cooperative.  Did I really want to do this sexy strip tease for Marya.  I
couldn't think of a good reason why I should, but I couldn't think of a
good reason why I shouldn't.  I thought that it might be the whiskey, but
liquor never hit me that way before.  Of course, as Michelle, I was a lot
smaller than I had been.  Maybe that was it.

Anyway, I had a dance to finish.  I shook my shoulders suddenly, letting
the dress slip off them.  My hands shot up, and I caught it jut as it fell to
the top of my breasts.  I held it there for a moment, leaning forward just a
bit, as if trying to modestly hide my breasts, yet still swaying to the
music.  Then I stuck my hands into the air and let the dress fall to my
waist.  It couldn't go any further because of my wide hips.  I stood
straight, pushing my breasts out for Marya to see and admire.

Now I reached down to where the dress was gathered around my hips.
Still swaying to the music, I bent forward just a little and slowly pushed
it down past my hips.  "Look at the camera," Marya yelled.  I didn't stop
fiddling with my dress, but I looked up, straight at the camera, and
smiled my most suggestive smile.  When the dress was below my hips, I
let it go.  It fell down around my ankles.  I stepped out of it.  As I did so,
I lifted it on one foot and gave a sudden sharp kick that sent it flying
across the room.

I stood in the classic feminine stance, one knee bent slightly, hand on my
hip.  All I was wearing now were my panties and bra, garter belt and
hose, and those heels.  I leaned forward again and blew a kiss to the
camera. Then I stood straight again for a moment.  The music was still
playing, a brassy tune with a very strong beat.  I began moving my hips
to that beat. I clasped my arms in front of me, not an easy thing to do
with my new breasts and began to move my whole body to the beat.

"Yeah," Marya shouted.  "Shake it, Baby!"  I should have stopped,
feeling totally humiliated, but I found myself enjoying the role I seemed
to have fallen into.  Shaking my hips and ass to the beat, I began to strut
back and forth in front of Marya and the camera.

After about thirty seconds of that, I stopped in the center of the room.  I
reached behind my back and undid the clasps on my bra.  They fell free.
The bra was now held on, such as it was, by the straps on my shoulders.
I put my left hand up between my breasts and held the bra in place.  I
turned my head slightly to the right, smiling a shy but still somehow sexy
smile. Then I reached my right hand over and, with a quick flip of my
finger, knocked the strap off my left shoulder.  I put my right hand next
to my left to hold the bra in place.  Then I quickly moved my left hand
and knocked off the right bra strap.

All that way keeping my bra in place was my right hand.  My left was
now down on my hip.  I faced forward and raised the bra off my breasts
and over my head. I spun it around a couple of times then threw it over
towards the couch.  It landed on the couch near my dress.  I kept my
right arm raised straight up towards the ceiling and stood there moving
my hips to the music.

My breasts, of course, were now visible for anybody to see.  I could feel
the air on my nipples, which were tingling. I reached for them and held
my breasts in my hands, palms underneath to make them look even
bigger and sexier.  I looked down at them.  The nipples were erect,
sticking out like two pencil erasers.  I touched one with the finger.  Oh,
lord, it felt good!   I began to message my breasts, rubbing the nipples as
I did so.  The sensations were incredible.  I closed my eyes and rolled my
head back and forth to the rhythm of the music and of my own caresses.
I felt a warmth spreading out from my breasts through my entire body,
but especially to my pussy which began to feel moist and - to tell the
truth - a little empty.

"Ahem," Marya said in a loud voice.  "I'm sure that it feels very nice, but
the music is still going.  Move it, Michelle."

"Pooh!" I said, sticking my tongue out at her.  Yet, somehow, I knew that
she was right.  For some reason that I didn't understand, didn't even
_want_ to understand, it was important to me to finish the strip that I was
doing. I hated having been turned into a woman, but at the same time, I
wanted to show Marya what a sexy woman I had become.

I held my arms out from my sides, fingers together, elbows bent slightly
and began walking back and forth again. I moved my hips to the music,
cocking each one in turn as I walked.  Sometimes, I cocked my
shoulders, too, making my breasts sway as I walked.  Always, as I
walked, I kept my face toward the camera and a big smile on my lips.

After walking the width of the room three, no, four times, I stopped and
stood in the center again.  I took the woman's pose again.  Then I smiled
and took the top hem of the panties between the thumb and forefinger of
each hand.  I very, very slowly began rolling the panty down over my
hips.  As I did this, I kept my hips still, but I moved my shoulders to the
beat of the music.  I was leaning over as I did all this and my breasts
swung freely to the same beat.  My face, of course, was still facing
forwards towards the camera.

Eventually, my panties were rolled down.  My pussy was fully exposed.
I dropped the panties to the floor and stepped out of them.  Another
quick kick, and they flew over, landing near the couch.  In a display of
false modesty, I put one hand up to cover my face, while the other shot
down to hide my pussy.

My fingers touched the pubic hair, and I shivered at the sensation.  I
could feel how wet I was.  Without thinking, I stuck one finger inside.
That felt good, and I began to move it in and out.  At the same time,
another finger found my clitoris and began to rub against it.  Oooh!  My
other hand moved down from my face, and I began to message my breast
again.  An incredible glow was flowing like electrified honey through
my body.  I began to thrust my hips forward to meet the inward thrusts of
my finger.  My eyes closed and my head was rolling back and forth.  I
could hear a woman moaning from a long way off.  It sounded very sexy
until I realized that it was me.

I was panicking at what I was doing to my new body, but I was unable to
stop.  My knees began to buckle.  I felt Marya guide me over onto the
couch.   I sat down and continued what I was doing.

Suddenly, I felt Marya pull my hand away from my wonderful new
pussy.  I broke free and tried to put it back. But I couldn't.  There was
something in the way, something moving in and out to the same rhythm
that my hand had been moving.  Something big, and humming, and
turning my insides to pure jelly as they clenched and unclenched around
it.

Marya took my hand and, without missing a beat, put it around the
vibrator. She took her own hand away.  It was up to me now.  I took over
and kept the thing going to that same wonderful rhythm.  I was moaning
louder, thrusting my hips, my whole body to the rhythm.  I felt
something build within me.  It built with each stroke.  Then it broke
loose and my entire body was filled with the pleasure of it.  I screamed, I
rocked back and forth, and I stopped my hand.  The afterglow was
almost, _almost_, as good as the orgasm.

Then Marya gently took my hand in hers and began the rhythm again.  A
new jolt of pleasure began to grow in my groin.  It built and built until it
too ran loose through me.  So did a third orgasm a few minutes later.

I wanted to continue.  I would have been happy to use that little electric
wonder on my body until I melted into a puddle on the couch.  But I was
just too tired to continue.  I lay back on the couch and rested, enjoying
the warmth of my multiple orgasms.

I realized after a minute or two that I was sitting on my new dress.  I
reached down between my thighs and touched it.  It was actually wet
from what had flowed out of me.  I gently put my finger into my vagina.
It was sopping wet - and a little tender.  I brought my finger up to my
face and smelled my new, feminine juices.  They smelled good.  I stuck
my finger in my mouth on an impulse.  I always thought that I had good
taste in women. Now I was a woman who tasted good.

While I had sat - or maybe laid there recovering.  Marya had been
fiddling with the camera.  She finally pulled out a cassette and put it in
her VCR. "Now you get to see just how sexy you are," she said, and she
clicked on the TV.  She had, I should mention, one of those 32-inch
home entertainment systems.

I heard the music and saw this sexy girl strutting back and forth.  There
was no hint of anything male about her. And I looked.  No, this was a
_woman_.  And she was moving in a very seductive way.  Putting all of
the sexual _tease_ into the strip.  As I watched her taking off her dress, I
began to feel my nipples tingling again.  I was actually turning myself
on.  My mind was still male enough to appreciate what I was seeing, but
my body was reacting in a feminine manner.

By the time she - I -- had her - had my - bra off, my hand was up
messaging my breast again.  It was crazy, watching myself performing
like that.  I couldn't turn away, and I could stop turning on.  After a
couple more minutes, my other hand began to reach for my pussy.
Marya intercepted it and handed me the vibrator again. She turned it
back on.  Then she guided my hand, so I was rubbing it along the edges
of my pussy.

"You like that, don't you, Michelle."

"Oh, yes!" I gasped, then I added, "she's so sexy."

"Yes, Michael likes looking at the sexy woman, but you're _Michelle_.
What you like are the feelings going through your oh, so _female_ body.
The fingers caressing your womanly tits; the vibrator moving like some
man's big cock in and out of your quivering pussy.  Isn't that what you
like?"

"Yes," I shouted.  "Yes, yes, yes!"  Then another orgasm raced through
me. I stopped shouting and just enjoyed the feelings.  I closed my eyes.
There was nothing I wanted to look at.  I wanted to focus entirely on the
feelings pulsing through my body.

"Open those eyes, Michelle," Marya shouted.  I couldn't help myself and
did so.  "Now, you can keep going for as long as you want.  But you
_will_ keep looking at yourself on the TV.  I've programmed the VCR
for "Loop", so it'll keep rewinding and re-showing your performance for
as long as I want.  And you, as I said, _will_ keep watching."

Marya got up and walked over to a nearby chair.  She was close enough
to the line of sight to the TV that I could see her.  She smiled and
watched as I kept playing with my self, bringing on orgasm after orgasm.
And all the time watching that damned TV.

At one point, she got up and walked away.  I wanted to stop, but I
couldn't summon up the will to do so.  After all, she wanted me to
continue, and I wanted to be cooperative, so she'd change me back.
Besides, it felt so good. She came back after a few minutes wearing a
floor length silk negligee and carrying a glass of brandy.  She sat back
down and just said, "Continue."  I did.

Eventually, she must have gotten bored watching me.  She reached down
and turned the vibrator off.  "You can stop now," she said.  And I did.  I
came down, heaving great sighs of relief.  I was actually beginning to
feel a little tender, but I wanted to continue - until she had said that I
could
stop.

After a minute, she tossed me a towel and I wiped myself clean.  I
followed her into the bedroom, holding the towel at my groin to catch
any additional fluids that might leak out.  She took off the negligee and
hung it in her closet.  By this time, I felt it was safe to dispense with the
towel and tossed it into a hamper near the bed.

She tossed some pajamas onto the bed, the pink "baby doll" nightie,
actually.  I stood up at the foot of her bed and quickly put them on, if
only to postpone any more "fun and games" Marya might have in mind.
The top had a built-in half bra. My breasts were still tender from the
"exercise" they'd just been through, and it felt good to have something
supporting them.

"Bedtime, honey." She said.  "Only, I get the bed." Before I could say a
word, she pulled out a collar from under the bed and locked it around my
neck.  A chain was attached, the other end being hooked to the foot of
the bed. A small padlock held the collar loosely around my neck.  The
key was on a small night table that seemed halfway across the room.
Well out of my reach, as I found out after several tries.

Marya put on her own nightgown, blew out the candles, and got into bed.
In a few minutes, I began to hear her snoring.  I tried a couple more
times to get the key, turning this way and that, reaching out with hand or
foot. No use. I lay awake in the dark.  What if I never changed back?
Was I going to be her toy, her female sex slave, forever?  I think that I
fell asleep just before dawn.

Marya was gone when I woke up.  But my prick was back!  I was a man
again. I was now tall enough to easily reach the table with my foot, pull
it to me, and get the key.  In a minute I was free.  The nightie was much
too small for me now.  I more tore it off than took it off.  My old,
familiar male clothes were in the next room.  Marya had even folded
them to avoid wrinkling.  She also left a note on top of them.  "Mike:
You're back to normal for now, but only for now.  Be here at 6 PM.
You'll be Michelle at 6:01, and I can make her life permanent."

It was quite a threat.  I checked my watch: 7:15.  I had plenty of time
before I had to be at the office.  I caught a cab home, showered, shaved,
and changed for work.  It seemed a little odd looking at myself in the
mirror.  I kept expecting to see a woman.  But there was no sign of
Michelle.

At work, my memories of the night before seemed to get fuzzier and
fuzzier as the day wore on.  I decided that it all must have been some
kind of dream.  A gypsy trick of Marya's?  Hypnosis?  Or a drug,
maybe?  Anyway, I'd figured the thing out, so it was over.

No, it wasn't.  Marya called just after 5.  "Just wanted to remind you
about tonight," she said.

"Forget it, Marya.  I'm on to your tricks.  You may have gotten me to
believe something yesterday, but today I'm on to you."

"Trick, Mike?  Look at your left hand." I held up my hand.  It seemed
okay, same as ever.  Then it began to tingle all over.  As I watched, it
shrank The fingers got thin and supple.  The nails grew long.  It was a
girl's hand! "Convinced?" she asked.

"Convinced?"  I was defeated.  She really had changed me into a woman
yesterday, and whatever she'd done once, she could do again.  I caught a
cab right away.  At about 5:50, I was knocking on her apartment door.

Marya opened the door with a flourish.  She'd won, and she knew it.
"Strip," she ordered.  I'd like to watch the transformation this time.  I
did as she said, hanging my suit in her closet.  A wave of dizziness hit
me.   I could feel my body twisting inside.  There was a swelling
sensation at my chest.  My scalp tingled.  Everywhere else, I felt a
pressure pushing me in, compacting me.  I could feel my penis erect.
Then, it seemed to grow numb.  Marya was staring at me, but I didn't
have the guts to look down at myself.  My legs became wobbly, and I
collapsed on the couch.  I felt the fabric move under me as I shrank.
Then I closed my eyes and tried not to black out again.

Marya was standing over me when the dizziness went away, and I
cautiously opened my eyes.  I glanced down at my body.  It had
happened again.  I stared past two large breasts at a narrow waist and
long, shapely legs.  A brown triangle of hair guarded the slit at my
crotch.  I instinctively covered my breasts and crotch with my hands.
Inside and out, I was a girl again. "Welcome back, Michelle," Marya
laughed and handed me a pile of clothes.  "Time to get dressed." I sat up.

The clothes were new to me; a simple white cotton bra, half-slip, and
matching panties, long pink elastic-topped knee socks, and a shapeless
pink dress.  They were rather frumpy looking.  I vaguely remembered
saying just that to Marya during our  spree the night before.  They'd
stood out among all the flashy, sexy stuff she was insisting on buying.

"Put them on now, dear, and come over here by me," Marya said.

I did.  Fortunately, I seemed to remember how to put on a bra from the
night before.  "Come over here and see how we look," Marya said.  She
was standing next to a full length mirror.  I could see myself as I walked
to her.  Marya had me sit at a small table near the mirror.  She put my
hair in a conservative bun and put some make-up on me, nothing fancy,
just some lip gloss and a little rouge  With the dowdy clothes I'd just put
on, I looked like an old maid school teacher or something equally nerdy.
Marya, on the other hand, dressed in a stunning dark green evening
dress, looked like the soul of sophistication.

"Shoes," she said, handing me a pair of woman's sneakers.  "Put 'em on.
We're going out for some supper." She had my wallet in her hand.  While
I got the sneakers on, I saw her open it and take out all of my cash.
"You're buying."  She tossed my wallet on the coffee table and all but
pulled me out the door.

The next thing I knew we were walking into "Emilio's," one of the
fancier restaurants in the new center city shopping district. A $20 bill
slipped to the maitre 'd got us a good table right away.  Marya ordered
the Maine lobster and the good house white wine for herself.  She
insisted that I was on some sort of special diet, and I had to make do with
a chicken salad and iced tea.  Marya took her time over the dinner,
relishing every bite.  The chef had taken very little time with my salad,
and it showed. "Delicious," she finally said wiping a little dab of butter
off her chin.  "We'll have think about coming back tomorrow with our
dates."

"Dates?"

"Sure, Michelle.  You remember Andy Parkhurst from your cousin,
Mike's, office. He asked me out for tomorrow night, when I was there to
see you --um, your cousin, Mike, yesterday afternoon.  He said that he
had an out-of-town client, a Mr. Rolffson, and asked me to scare up a
date for him as well.  Though, we'll see tomorrow which of us gets
Parkhurst and which gets Rolffson."

Things had gotten even worse.  Andy Parkhurst was one of the top men
in sales in my company, and Joe Rolffson was his best customer.  Office
policy was that whatever made the client happy was okay.  So Andy
would be on his expense account, and Rolffson would be sure to be
expecting a real fun evening.  From what I knew about both men that
meant an evening of "3D", "dinner, dancing, and debauchery".  And
Marya had set me up to be one of the debauchees.
 

Marya must have guessed what I was thinking.  "Don't pout so, Michelle.
It's so unbecoming in a girl." The waiter came with the bill on a little
silver tray.  She looked at the bill and put the cash -- my cash -- down on
the tray. "Come, Michelle," she said and got up to leave.

"Emilio's" was next to the new downtown mall.  We left by the mall
entrance and began walking towards a loud noise at one end of the mall,
"The Blue Note".  I thought about heading back to my place until I
realized that I had no money or ID.  The mall was miles from my office,
my apartment, or Marya's.  I was trapped!

"The Blue Note" is a little jazz club, one of the best ones in the city.
The music was pretty good, and it was something of a showplace for
local musicians.  But the main attraction for a lot of guys was the view.
The waitresses dressed in blue lycra teddies that were all but invisible
under the lighting they used.  They also wore stockings and high heels,
so they looked like those naked little "nymphets" on the Playboy jokes
page.  I'm something of a jazz fan -- and a sex fan, I'll admit -- so Marya
and I had been there a couple of times.

The place was fairly well packed for a week night.  "Big Joe" Briggs was
showing off with his new group.  Marya and I got a small table over by
the corner after a bit of a wait.  I tried to just sit back, forget what had
happened to me, and enjoy the music.  Trouble was, I kept getting
reminded. A couple of guys came over to the table about five minutes
after we sat down.

The taller one introduced himself as "Vince", and his friend was
"Jimmy". Jimmy smiled and asked if they could join us.  I was totally
flustered.  A part of me actually felt flattered by their offer.  Marya just
smiled, "Thanks, boys.  Maybe another time, but all we're here for
tonight is to enjoy the music." The two men headed off after other
targets.  "Cute, weren't they, Michelle?" Marya said to me.  "And I think
that one, Jimmy, really was interested in you, you sexy thing."

"Cut it out, Marya!" I said.  "It's bad enough I'm here like this.  You
don't have to rub it in."

"Oh, but I want to, Michelle.  I want you to be very aware of what's
happened to you."

Just then, one of the waitresses walked by. She was a tall, slender blonde
with a damn good figure that I normally would've given at least a second
look to, but I felt no attraction at all for her, now.  Marya stopped her.
"Waitress, can you take our orders now.  I'd like a Bloody Mary and my
friend here would like a -- what did you say you wanted, Dear."

"I'm sorry," the waitress said.  "This isn't one of my tables.  We're a
little short handed tonight.  One of the girls got sick." She pointed to
another waitress, a short, busty brunette a few tables away.  "That's your
waitress, Allie.  I'll tell her you're ready to order."

"Thanks," Marya said.  The woman hurried off, but Allie came over in a
moment. Marya ordered her Bloody Mary, and I asked for a double
scotch. Allie was back in a few minutes with the drinks.  After she put
them down, she pointed to a tall man over by the bar.  "Fella over at the
bar gave me ten bucks to ask if he could join you.  Said he'd pay for
those drinks of yours, too."

"Tell him 'Thanks, but no thanks'", Marya said.  Allie nodded and headed
away. I was nervous as a cat  We'd been hit on twice in less than fifteen
minutes. Marya smiled and tasted her drink.  She began to hum
something.  I needed some reinforcement, so I downed mine in one gulp.
I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of the scotch and the cool of the
band flow over me for awhile.
 

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I heard was a gruff voice
saying, "That'll be eight bucks, Sleeping Beauty".  I opened my eyes.
Marya was gone!  Standing next to the table were Allie and a short,
mean-looking man, who I recognized as Bert, the manager.  "Your friend
skipped out with that louse at the bar," Bert said.  "The ten he gave Allie
more than covers his tab, but you and your missing friend ain't paid for
your drinks."  Bert held out one very large hand. "Not yet, anyway."

"Sure," I said.  I reached down into my purse.  In a way, I was relieved.
Marya was gone.  I could head for home and wait till morning when, she
said, I'd be myself again.  I'd have to spend the night as a woman, but I'd
be home. Who'd know?

While I'd been thinking, I'd been feeling around in the purse.  There was
plenty of make-up and such.  But -- I suddenly remembered -- no money!
My credit card was there.  I could feel it, but it was in Mike's name, not
Michelle's.  I pulled it out anyway; it was worth a shot.  "Can I use this?
It's my cous -- my brother's card, but he lets me use it."

"We don't take plastic, lady.  Especially, when it don't belong to the one
who asks." He grabbed my arm and forced me down into the chair.
"Wait here while I call the cops."

"Wait a minute," Allie said.  "Let her work it off.  We're short tonight
with Rhonda out sick, and she looks like she can fill in."

Bert looked me over.  "Stand up and let me see the goods."  I stood and
slowly turned around.  It felt like I was under a magnifying glass.  In
spite of knowing that I was fully dressed, I felt suddenly stark naked.
"Get her into Rhonda's outfit, and we'll see what she really looks like."

Allie took me back into a small dressing room with five or six lockers.
She played with the lock on one, and it sprang open.  "Here you go,
Honey." She took out a waitress outfit from a locker and handed it to me.
"Hurry up and put this on before Bert changes his mind."

I didn't need to be reminded.  I quickly unbuttoned my dress and hung it
in the locker.  My slip went in next.  "Better take it all off, Honey," Allie
said.  "That thing's pretty tight, and Bert don't like no underwear to
show." That I didn't like, but I really had no choice.  In a minute, I was
wearing just the outfit, everything else was in that locker.  I hadn't
realized just how tight the teddy was until I put it on.  It was sleeveless
and cut very low.  The fabric was shear enough that you could all but see
the nipple through the fabric.  The bottom wasn't much wider than a
g-string in front.  In back, it was a thong that went up between my ass
cheeks so that, from behind, it looked like I wasn't wearing anything
below the waist.  Allie handed me a pair of stockings.  I put them on
slowly, so as not to get in more trouble for putting a run in them.  Allie
had to help me with the garters.

"Looks good," Allie said, stepping back, "but that hairdo's the worst."
She reached up and pulled out the pins holding my hair in the bun.  It fell
loose around my shoulders.  "Much better," she said, fluffing it out some.
She redid my lipstick to make my lips look fuller and fixed my eyes with
a
little eye shadow and mascara from her own locker.  Finally, she helped
me into a pair of five inch heels.  I'd never worn heels of  any sort before
this damn spell, but I didn't have much trouble after a couple of hesitant
first steps.  The thing was, my walk was now just short little steps that
made my ass and hips sway in a really feminine and damned sexy way.

Allie was ecstatic.  "Honey, you're a knockout."  I was totally
embarrassed, and felt my face redden at the sight of me in the dressing
room mirror. Then suddenly I realized that it was the embarrassment of
having to work as a waitress walking with that sexy strut in such a
revealing outfit, not of being a man in the outfit .  Which embarrassed
me even more.  What was happening to me?  Was there any of Mike
left?
 

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the dressing room.  Allie called
Bert over for another look.  "Not bad," he smiled.  "Not bad at all.  Allie,
show her the ropes, then give her tables seven through twelve."

Allie handed me a pad and pencil.  "Those six tables over by the stage,"
she pointed, "are yours.  Watch the tables to see when somebody comes
or goes. You wait a couple of minutes after they sit down before you go
over.  Smile and tell 'em your name, if you want.  I usually don't.  Guys
think you're coming on to them, and dates get jealous.  Write down what
they want.  Drink orders go to Billy at the bar.  Food -- such as it is --
you get from Pete in the kitchen over there." She pointed again, this time
to a small door near the bar.

"After 10 o'clock, there's no kitchen, so you really don't need to worry
'bout it, I guess.  Just make sure you get the money when you bring the
drinks or food.  I guess you know about that.  Money goes to Billy at the
bar. Tips go into a pot he keeps.  We split that up when we close.  Any
trouble call Bert, but it better be serious.  Bert likes happy customers,
and he'll put up with a lot.  Better move it, cause somebody just got to
table eight.  I got my own troubles, so good luck." She turned and
hurried off to the bar.

I took a deep breath and began walking towards the table.  Three rather
tough looking men in work clothes were sitting there talking.  "Hi," I
said and smiled gamely.  "Can I take your orders?"

They stopped talking and looked me over.  One of them smacked his lips
and said, "Yeah, Sugar, my order is for you to join us." He reached up
and grabbed my waist, pulling me towards him.

I wriggled free.  "How about just your drink orders for now," I said.  I
thought I could get out of this by pretending it was all just a joke.

"Sure, Honey," said one of the others.  "For now." He reached over and
stroked my exposed ass.  "We'll talk about other stuff when you bring the
drinks.  A pitcher of Bud.  And four glasses, so you can join us."

I went to the bar and got the pitcher.  And three glasses.  "Can't drink
while I'm working," I said.  "That'll be seven bucks."

The first one took a ten from his wallet.  "Okay, Sugar, but you keep the
change to remind you to come back later." I expected him to hand me the
bill. But he reached over and shoved it into the top of my outfit.  His
fingers went in with it, and he managed to tweak my nipple before he
pulled them out.  I stood there for a second, totally bewildered.  Then
good sense told me to move off quick.  I took the money out and gave it
to Billy.  Sure enough, it went into the register, but he took three bucks
out and put them into a coffee can labeled "Tips".

Billy was a skinny guy, about forty five, with thinning brown hair.
"Don't let those guys throw you, Babe.  They're mostly harmless, and
they tip pretty good for just a quick grab or two."  I decided that he was
right.  My best bet was to try to accept what was happening and get
through till closing.  It turned out not to be too bad.  Most of my
customers weren't grabbers.  I could take care of them and still enjoy
some pretty good music.   I did get my ass pinched a few times, though,
and that first guy wasn't the only one who found a way to play with my
tits.

It was about a half hour to closing, and the place was pretty empty.  I
looked over and saw somebody sit down at one of my tables.  I got up
and walked over. It was Marya!  "What happened to you?" I asked.
"They said I stiffed them over our drinks, and they've been making me
work the price off since you left."

"I know all that, Michelle," Marya smiled.  "Bert's an old friend of mine.
He's letting you work her as a favor to me.  I set this whole thing up this
afternoon.  He thinks I'm getting an old friend back for a joke that she
played on me.  By the way, you make one sexy cocktail waitress."

"Well, it's no joke to me.  Get me out of here!"

"What's the matter, Honey?  Getting bored?  Well, we certainly don't
want that." She got up and started walking towards the door to the
waitresses' dressing room.  "Come with me," she said in a stern voice.

I followed her in, not sure what to expect.  She turned and locked the
door behind her.  Then she opened her purse and took out a glass vial
with some kind of blue powder.  She popped the top and tossed the
powder over me.  "By the powers of Dark and Light, you cannot move!"
I felt a tingle all over. The powder tickled a little, and I tried to brush
some off.  But I couldn't move!  It was like I was a statute.  Marya
smiled. "Don't worry, Michelle. That's a hypnotic powder.  It wears off
in about an hour.  Till then, you just be compelled to obey the commands
of whoever put it on you; which was little old me."

I was scared but still paralyzed.  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do
anything more than blink.  Marya spoke slowly in a low voice.  "Hear
me,  Michael Ryan.  When you hear the words '_Look_, _Michelle_',
you will become a woman aroused.  Your nipples will grow stiff and
extended, hard as little rocks, and you will feel the warm hunger for sex
in your loins.  As your clothes rub against your body, it will be as a
caress.  When you see a man look at your breasts or your legs, your ass
or your cunt, you will actually feel his warm hands stroking that part of
you.  And, if a man does touch you, it will be as if a hundred men were
caressing your body.  You will thrill to these sensations and want them
all the more, even though you know that it is a spell and that you
yourself are a male under a curse.  Only the phrase 'Calm, Michele' can
free you from these sensations."

Marya paused and walked over to the door.  "Wait one minute, then you
will be able to move and can return to work." She unlocked the door and
left.

I soon found that I could move again.  When I got back into the crowded
room, I didn't feel all that different, so I figured the rest of her little
hypnosis dust spell hadn't worked.  Maybe the first thing she said, that I
couldn't move, had somehow countered the second.  In any case, I
figured that I had better get out of the dressing room and back to work
since she hadn't said anything about paying for the drinks.  I'd wait tables
until I had a chance to find out if it was okay to stop.  In the meantime,
I'd be busy and away from anything else Marya wanted to try.

Marya was already back at her table, and she wave her hand to call me
over. "Light beer, please," she said without so much as a glance at me.  I
brought it, and she gave me a ten.  She finally looked up when I came
back with her change.  "You do seem a little bored.  Maybe this will
help." She reached over and threw her glass to the floor, yelling "Idiot, I
said a martini, not a beer."  In a very low voice she whispered.  "_Look,
Michelle_, every man here is staring at you."

I looked up.  They were staring at me.  And that damned powder
suddenly kicked in.  I felt hands all over my body; hands rubbing,
squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples.  Other hands brushed up and
down my legs, from knee to upper thigh.  There were hands stroking my
ass, and -- ohh! – fingers playing along the lips of my cunt, caressing my
clit.  I went crazy from the sensations.  I squirmed.  I moaned. I dropped
my waitress's pad and began to rub my breasts, squeezing them in
orgasmic fury.

Then, I heard Marya again.  "_Calm, Michelle_."

I realized that the place was dead silent.  I looked around the room.
Most people were looking back at me.  A few started to applaud, and
there were catcalls that I get up on stage and finish the show I'd been
giving.  "Big Joe" played something brash and sexy on his trumpet.
Marya just sat there smiling.  I curled my fingers into a fist.  That had
been the last straw. No matter what she did, I was going to punch her
teeth out.

"_Look Michelle_!"

She turned it -- turned me -- back on.  Oh, Lord, it felt good!  I couldn't
control the sensations of being caressed all over.  I just stood there
rubbing my body, my breasts, my belly, and on down my legs.  Then
back up. Slowly.  Putting on quite a show for every one in the room,
while Marya just sat there and smiled.

After a few minutes, I got a little self-control.  I gritted my teeth and
walked past Marya to another table.  The spell was still going, though,
and I was walking with even more of a sexy, feminine wiggle to my hips
than before.  My nipples were two sharp points pushing out through the
top of my teddy, and they ached to be touched.  Worst of all, it felt like
there was a wet spot at my groin.

I looked at the wall clock behind the bar.  Twenty minutes to closing.  I
could deal with that, I thought.  A couple of guys signaled for attention
from one of my tables, and I strutted over, hips still wriggling to
advertise what I seemed to so desperately need.  "Can I help you, guys?"
I asked.  Oh, no! My voice was high and breathy.  I sounded like the
world's prize sex toy, especially saying stupid things like that.

Both men grinned.  The nearer one reached up and stroked my neck with
a finger.  I felt as if velvet gloved hands were moving all along my body.
I moved my shoulder down, encouraging him to continue.  My eyes half
closed, and my mouth opened.  Dammit, I all but purred at the man!
"Maybe, I'd better help you, Little Lady.  What time do you finish?"

"Mmmm, we close in about fifteen minutes," I said.  Omigosh!  What
was I saying?  I took a deep breath.  "But I'm already meeting someone
after work."    "Ain't nobody better 'n me, darlin'." He smiled and kept on
stroking my neck, his hand moving slowly down towards my aching
breasts. Part of me wanted to stop him, but part of me was praying for
him to continue.

"I am," Marya said.  I'd been so busy that I hadn't heard her come over to
the table.  She spun me around and kissed me full on the lips, her tongue
invading my mouth.  Instinctively, I put my arms around her, pulling her
closer, and began to rub my aroused body against hers.  The kiss seemed
to last a good couple of minutes.  Then she broke away and turned to the
men. "I know what it looked like before, fellas, but the lady's with me."
As she said it, Marya reached over and pinched my nipple and whispered
"_Calm, Michelle_".

At that point, the guy shrugged, admitting defeat.  I stood there shivering
in confusion at the signals my body was still sending me.  I was a guy,
but I was a girl.  I was hornier than a cat in heat, but it was Marya, as
much as that damn dust that was turning me on.

There was no more trouble the rest of the shift.  Marya took me over to
Bert just before closing and thanked him for his help.  She didn't pay for
the drinks, though, so I did.  My time as a waitress counted for a fair bit
more than the drinks cost.  Bert offered me the cash, if I'd agree to come
back and work the next night.  I thanked him, but refused.

I was so glad it was over, I told Allie to split my tips with the others.
Allie, the other waitresses, and I all changed clothes together in that one
room. And even though I was still feeling the effects of that powder, I
quickly realized how total the were-woman change had become.  I mean,
there I was, alone with four beautiful naked women, and I didn't even
look.  To me they were just other women, now, no more arousing than if
I was myself in a locker room with four other guys.
 

I didn't say a thing the whole way back to Marya's place, either.  I just
sat there in her car trying to sort out my feelings.  I knew that I had
wanted -- well -- wanted one of those guys in the bar to fuck me.  My
urge for some form of sexual release was still pretty strong.  I knew that I
was really a man under some sort of spell, but my life as Mike Ryan
seemed like something a million miles away, something I'd only read
about a long time ago, rather than my own normal life.

Marya appeared to sense my confusion and was quiet the whole drive.
At one point, I thought I heard her humming or singing softly in that
funny language of hers, but I wasn't sure.  When we got back into her
living room, she looked at me a moment, then asked, "Having some
trouble with the way the evening went, little one?"

I should have said something nasty at that point.  Glared at her like it was
her fault.  (Which it was.) But I just broke down and began to cry.  "I'm
so damned confused: those guys in the Club and how they made me feel!
I just don't know what I am anymore!" The rest was lost in a sob. Marya
pulled me close to her in a great bear hug and began rocking me back
and forth.  She hummed some weird sort of melody and began to stroke
my hair.  She was soothing me like the child I'd become.  I felt safe.  She
was my protector against the world.  I stopped crying, nestled up against
her, and began hugging her around the neck.

Suddenly, she moved her head and kissed me full on the lips.  Grateful
for the love and attention, I responded and kissed her back.  Our tongues
met. Hers won and began exploring my mouth.  She stood, picking me
up with her. "Ready for some fun,  Baby doll?" she asked.

I smiled bashfully as she carried me towards the bedroom.  "Ready for
whatever you like," I said.

The kissing continued for a while.  "Let's strip down," she finally said, a
little breathless.  That sounded good to me.  I kicked off my sneakers and
was out of my dress in a minute.  Then my socks, panties, and bra.
Marya stood there, still fully dressed, looking at me.  I loved the
attention and stepped back to pose for her.  "Very nice," she said.  I felt
warm from her admiration, proud and happy that she thought I was
pretty.  "Now, do me," she said.

I walk over and slid the evening dress's straps off her shoulders.  The
zipper was on the side, easy to reach.  The dress slid down, releasing her
beautiful breasts.  I stared at them for a minute.  Then, impulsively, I
began to suck one.  "Mmmm," she moaned.  I had pleased her!  She
reached around and began to massage my buttocks.  She kneaded them
like two firm wads of dough sending jolts of warm pleasure through me.

She stopped and stepped back.  "The dress," she said.  I reached down
and pulled her dress past her slender waist.  It fell to the floor.  "Now, the
panties." I reached out again for the fog of black silk and lace around her
hips.  They were moist at the crotch, outlining her woman's lips.  I
caught the female smell of her arousal.  My fingers took the top of her
panties and gently rolled them down, slowly revealing her privates to my
admiring eyes. I dropped the panties and she stepped out of them and the
dress.

Now it was her turn to pose for me.  She still wore her high heels and
stockings.  The black straps from her garter belt framed her crotch,
setting off the milky whiteness of her skin.  She seemed to be the most
glorious woman that I'd ever seen, and I was thrilled that she wanted to
be with me.

"Now for the good stuff, Baby doll," she said.  We embraced again,
falling on to the bed.  For a while, there was just a lot of kissing and
giggling. Her tits moved against mine, nipple rubbing nipple.  Her hand
moved slowly along my thigh.  Fingers explored my juicy pussy.  She
found my clit and began flicking at it with her fingertip.  I seemed to
melt with the heat spreading out through my body.  I lay back on the bed,
my legs spread wide.
 

Suddenly Marya was on top of me.  Her own crotch, hot and moist as
mine, rubbed against me now.  The sensations were too much.  I was one
giant vagina arching up to meet and devour my source of pleasure.  I
heard myself moaning, but as if from far, far away.  My arms and legs
had minds of their own.  They wrapped themselves around Marya,
pulling her as close to me as possible.  I could hear her voice, too.  But
there were no words, just grunts of animal pleasure.  We screamed in
orgasm at the same instant.  We rode out the wave of pleasure, and
collapsed back onto the bed.

Marya rolled off of me and sat up.  "Well, that was certainly fun." She
gently traced curlicues down my stomach and around my navel with her
fingernail. "Ready for more, Baby doll?"

"Oh, yes," I said eagerly.  "Please, do me again." Her nail on my skin
was beginning to get to me.  I moved my hips a little to increase the
feeling I was getting.  I loved Marya.  She knew such marvelous things
about making love.

She got up and walked over to the dresser.  "I thought that I'd try
something a bit different," she said.  "By the way, have you noticed how
you've been acting since we got back here?"

Something tickled the back of my mind, but I couldn't seem to think of
anything.  "What do you mean?  I thought we were just making each
other feel good.  I just love it here like this with you."

"Poor little Baby doll.  Doesn't even know what's going on, and she
won't even care when I tell her."

"Tell me what?" I was afraid, confused.  Marya was my protector, my
lover. But she was talking like she was going to hurt me.

"Here's the poop, Baby doll-- Jees, I love the way you just let me call
you that -- Baby doll.  Within certain limits I can modify my spell.
Tonight I used that powder to affect your mind and your body, but I can
also use the spell itself to affect the way that you think.  You remember
the way that I chanted, in the car and when we first got back to the
apartment?"

"I guess so, Marya.  I just thought that you were humming because you
were happy."

"Right.  And you do want me to be happy.  Okay, answer me quickly:
true or false. Right now, you don't care about the spell, or what I've done
to you. You just want me to be happy -- want to make me happy."

"Oh, yes!" I shouted.  For a moment, I felt worry or anger.  What had she
done to me?  I remembered the spell and that I was really a man. Then
the thought just went away.  I didn't care about any of that anymore.  All
I really cared about was that I was here, with Marya, and that we were
going to do wonderful things to each other.

"That's right, Baby doll.  That chant is keyed to the spell.  It lets me
make, well, adjustments, to your attitudes, like last night when I made
you want to do that sexy strip, or tonight, when I made you doze off, so I
could sneak out of "The Blue Note".  I played with your mind a bit again,
and now you're my happy, uncaring, little submissive.  A toy of mine
who's about to get the SHAFT."  Marya had her back to me almost the
whole time she'd been talking.  Now she turned.  I hadn't noticed her
strapping it on, but she was now wearing an enormous dildo.  It looked
to be a foot long and inches and inches around.  "Just lay back and enjoy
it, Baby doll.  You know that you want it."

As soon as she said that, I did want it.  I lay back on the bed, with a big
smile on my face and my legs wide apart.  In the back of my mind, I was
concerned about what she said, what she'd done to me.  But if it had
made her happy to do it, then I was happy, too.

Marya strode towards me.  She swayed her hips as she walking, making
the dildo rock back and forth obscenely.  When she reached the bed, she
leaned over. Her hands pinned mine at the wrists.  She lowered herself
onto me. Our lips met again.  She kissed me.  Hard.  I felt the dildo
probing at my pussy.  She brought my arms together, then held them
both with just her one hand.  I felt the other hand guiding the dildo into
my vagina.  I was still wet from before. I felt my body being spread open
as it entered.  This was something I had never dreamed would happen.  I
was a man, but I was being fucked like a woman.  And it felt right
because *she* was doing it to me.

Marya's body was hunching over me, moving the dildo in and out.  Her
free hand moved along my cunt lips.  She found my clit and began
jiggling it with a fingertip to the same rhythm as the dildo's motion.  I
could barely stand the sensations.  I felt my nipples erect, harden into
rocks, and I rubbed them frantically against hers.  My hips rose and fell
to the rhythm, trying to prolong the feelings.  I groaned, trying to speak,
but all that could come out were animal noises.  I felt a heat like the sun
flooding out from my groin. My whole body shook and my back arched
as I rose to meet my climax.  I bucked wildly, actually throwing Marya
off of me.

She got up in an instant and stood over me triumphantly while my body
continued to shake in orgasm.  My breathing started again.  I began to
come down.  Marya reached down, gently massaging my breasts as I
melted into the post-orgasmic lull.  "Now, didn't Mommy make Baby
doll feel good?" she said.

I sat up quickly and hugged her.  "Oh, thank you, Marya.  It -- it was
wonderful.  Can we do more, please?"

She smiled.  "Well, I don't know.  Oh, all right.  If you ask me -- no! If
you ask 'Mommy' -- real, real pretty to do you more."

"Please, pretty please, Mommy.  Do Baby doll more, and make her feel
so very, very special."

Marya laughed.  "Beg for it.  Beg like a dog."

I rolled off the bed onto the floor.  "Arf!" I said and crawled over to her
on all fours.

I looked up to see her looking down at me, a mischievous smile on her
lips. "Now lick my feet like the good little puppy you are."

I began to lick at her toes.  First one foot, then the other.  I licked and
then sucked all ten.  Then I began licking up her foot to her ankle.  On up
past the knee to her thighs.  I licked slowly up the inner side of one
thigh, over across her bush (deliberately missing her cunt) and down the
other.

That got to her.  I'd discovered back when I was a man that stuff like this
really turned her on.  Now, as a woman I was using that knowledge to
please her once again.  She stepped back and sat on the bed.  Her legs
were spread wide apart; her ass rested at the edge of the bed giving
ample access to her pussy.  Marya held my head in her hands.  "Nice
doggy," she murmured, a little breathless.

"Arf!" I said again and crawled forward.  I sniffed at her cunt for a
minute enjoying the rich "woman-smell" of her musk.  Then I began
licking again, this time at her cunt lips.  Long, slow licks.  She
whimpered and clutched at my hair with both hands, twisting it to the
point of physical pain.

"The clit!" she screamed through clenched teeth.  "Lick my clit!" I
moved my tongue slowly along her outer cunt lips to the clit.  Then I
began licking at it.  I alternated long, slow licks around it with "banjo"
flicks at its tip.  Marya screamed and all but pulled out a clump of my
hair.  I lowered my mouth and began lapping at the flood of juices
pouring out of her cunt.

Marya lay back on the bed for several minutes, reveling in the orgasm
and in my tongue.  Then she abruptly sat up.  "Did I please you, Marya?
Will you do me now?"

She frowned.  "That was very naughty of Baby doll, getting me so
wound up like that without asking first if she could.  Stand up." I was
frightened now and stood up almost at attention.  "Now, lay down across
my legs." Again, I wasn't sure just what she had in mind, but the look on
her face
said that I'd better obey.  I felt Marya lean over, reaching for something,
and heard the night table drawer open and close.

Whap!  My questions were all answered by an sudden jolt of pain across
my butt.  I looked up to see Marya's hand moving back down to swat me
again with a large wooden hairbrush.  It hit, and I squirmed with the
pain.  "Stop moving," Marya yelled.

I obeyed, afraid to make matters worse.  The spanking went on for
several minutes.  Marya varied her rhythm, so I was never sure just when
the next blow would hit.  After a while, I began to get used to the pain.
Then, I became aware of a different sensation.  Every time the brush hit,
I felt a little jolt of pleasure in my pussy.  The force of the hairbrush was
slowly stimulating me somehow.  I felt a warmth growing in me, and,
without thinking, I rubbed myself against Marya's legs trying to angle
my butt for the next hit.

Marya noticed.  "Enjoying it, aren't you, Baby doll?" Marya continued to
spank me.  Her rhythm was steady now, its purpose to bring pleasure as
well as pain. And it worked.  My ass still hurt more with each blow of
the hairbrush, but I just didn't care.  The warmth growing inside me was
more than worth any pain. I moaned and rubbed myself against Marya
like a cat in heat.  Hell, I was a cat in heat, and I loved it.  I grew hotter
and hotter until something seemed to melt inside of me, flooding me
with overwhelming pleasure.  I rocked and bucked, almost throwing
myself off of Marya and onto the floor.

Then it was over.  I could hardly stand.  Marya helped me down onto the
floor near the foot of the bed.  My butt was still sore, but I didn't care.
I lay there, barely able to move, smiling and gently rubbing my pussy.  "I
think you're about done for the night," she said.

I lifted my head for a moment and kissed her hand.  "Oh, thank you,
Marya. It was wonderful."

"We'll see how you feel in the morning," she said.  I realized that she had
that chain and collar in her hands again.

"No, Marya, please!"  But it was no use.  I was still in a post-orgasmic
stupor and too weak to fight her.  In a moment, the collar was locked
around my neck.

Marya let me sit on the bed, while she changed into a long nightgown.
She sat down next to me and handed me the brush that she's used a few
minutes before on my butt.  "Brush my hair, 100 strokes," she
commanded, her tone brooking no possible arguments.  After I'd
finished, I lay back on the bed, hoping that she'd let me share it.  She
glared at me.  "The floor, same as last night, you little slut."  I sat there,
trying to look forlorn.  I didn't help.  She raised the brush as if to hit me.
I slipped off the bed and curled up in a fetal position on a rug near the
foot of the bed.  I must have been exhausted because I was asleep almost
immediately.

That night, I dreamed about being at some sort of meeting.  I was Mike,
again, dressed in my best suit and tie.  Somebody had asked me a
question, and I was just about to answer when Marya burst into the
room.  I tried to get her to leave, but she refused.  "I've come to show
your friends here the real you," she said to me.
 

Suddenly, I turned into Michelle.  The men in the room ripped off my
suit. Under it, I was wearing a lacy black half-bra that lifted my breasts
up and out, making them seem even bigger.  Below, I was only wearing
a matching black lace garter belt and fishnet stockings.  Somehow, my
shoes had changed into six inch stiletto heels.  I had the urge to flaunt my
female self.  I walked around the room, swaying my hips and wiggling
my ass.  Then all the men were naked.  They grabbed me and forced me
down.  Marya stood over me laughing triumphantly.  Suddenly she
turned into a male, naked and with an enormous prick.  She knelt down
and began to stick it into my pussy.

I woke up screaming.

Marya was awake and mostly dressed.  She smiled as if she knew what
I'd been dreaming.  I looked down at myself.  I was a man again.  I
looked for the key to my collar.  "Don't bother," Marya said.  She handed
me the key and finished buttoning her blouse.  I undid the little padlock
and removed the collar.  I saw my masculine clothes in the closet where
I'd left them the night before. Marya watched me dress.  She seemed to
be waiting for me to say or something.

"Just in case you're entertaining any thoughts about forcing me to drop
the spell, you can forget them." She said.  "Even if I wanted to, I can't for
at least one more night.  You have to go through at least this month's
complete full moon phase.  Trying to stop it -- or stop me -- before
tonight's full moon sets would have nasty side effects.  You might keep
changing on other nights.  Might even change during the day.  But, if
you behave tonight, I may decide that you've been punished enough."
She paused for a moment.  "And speaking of punishment, how did you
enjoy our little session, Baby doll?"

The memory of the way I'd acted the night before flooded into my mind.
I was embarrassed, ashamed, I don't know what all.  "Please," I said.
"Don't remind me."

"Just remember.  Baby doll's waiting there, if I want to play with her
again.  Tonight, though, I've other things in mind.  Meet me at your
apartment no later than 10 minutes to 6."

"My place?  Why my place?"

"You'll see, tonight." She paused a minute enjoying the confused
expression on my face.  "Now, scram." She walked over and opened her
apartment door.  I didn't know what else to do, and I did have to get
home to change, so I left without a word of argument.

I got an idea as to why we were meeting at my place when I got home.
The clothes that I'd bought two nights before had been delivered.  The
doorman had left them just inside my apartment door.  Luckily, the stuff
was in plain boxes with just the store's name on it, and there was no way
to tell that it was almost a complete female wardrobe.  I put the
underwear and such in a spare dresser drawer and hung the dresses in my
closet.  Now that I was a man again, it felt kind of weird to be handling
such things, even though I'd been wearing similar clothes the night
before and, unhappily, would probably be wearing them again that night.

I resolved not to think about it and changed for work.  I stripped and
grabbed a towel.  Coming out of the bathroom, showered and shaved, I
noticed a pair of women's briefs near the bed.  I guessed that I'd dropped
them when I was unpacking and hadn't noticed them till now.  Suddenly,
I had the urge to put them on.  I tossed them quickly onto the dresser and
opened the drawer with my boxer shorts.  But the damned things seemed
to be staring at me.  I fought the urge for a minute, then, with a muttered
curse, I grabbed the panties and stepped into them.  "Now she's got me
cross dressing in the daytime," I thought.
 

I managed to get the panties all the way up without ripping them. They
looked really strange, especially with that big male bulge in the front.  I
tucked my penis in between my legs and looked at myself in the mirror
again.   Except for the pink lace around my hips, there was nothing about
me that looked even remotely female.  I felt relieved but, somehow,
disappointed at the same time.  In any event, the urge left me at that
moment.  I took them off, changed into all male clothes and left for the
office.

Andy Parkhurst came into my office about 10:30 to discuss some new
brochures being printed up for a line of equipment that my department
was in charge of. I couldn't help looking at him kind of funny.  In a few
hours, I'd be probably be fixed up with the guy, listening to some line,
while he tried to get my female self into the sack.  Even as a man, I could
appreciate his good looks: tall, with curly black hair, and still with the
body of the college athlete he'd been a dozen years before.  But right
then, I was Mike, his male colleague, and we were trying to get a sales
campaign going.  I tried not to think about the evening, and I was very
happy to realize that, as Mike, I wasn't in any way turned on by him.

Out of curiosity, I asked about his plans for the evening.  Marya had met
Andy once or twice at the office, and she'd no doubt heard me mention
Jack Rolffson.  Maybe, she'd just made up the story of the date to psych
me out. Andy kind of hemmed and hawed about answering, but I pressed
him on the subject.

"Well," he finally said.  "I didn't want to say anything to you, Mike, but
I've got a date with that gal you used to go with, Marya Ospenska.  I ran
into her at the office the other day.  She's awfully good looking, so --
well -- I asked her if she'd stopped dating you, and if she'd consider
going out with me.  Jus t as a joke, you know." I nodded, and he
continued.

"Anyway, she said that she didn't expect that you'd be interested in
taking her out for a while and that she'd enjoy seeing me.  I figured that
I'd like to impress her, so I asked her to join me on my evening tonight
with Joe Rolffson.  He's in town this week, you know.  I figured that I
could manage a more impressive evening on an expense account.  She
said yes and offered to bring a date for Rolffson, too.  I asked if it was
anybody I knew.  She smiled kind of funny, like it was a private joke or
something, but said that it was somebody new.  We're meeting at
Emilio's at 7 for drinks and dinner. After that," he stopped for a second,
almost licking his chops like an animal, "who knows."

I knew, but I wasn't about to tell him.  I began to look forward less and
less to the evening, but it came anyway.  At 5:45, I met Marya in the
lobby of my apartment building.  She was dressed to kill in a tight fitting,
very low cut black cocktail dress that hugged her every luscious curve.
She had on a pair of pearl earrings and a long matching necklace that
seemed to float on her ample bosom.  "You look fantastic," I said.  She
leaned over and kissed me politely on the cheek.  I could smell her
perfume, an intoxicating fragrance I'd called "Gypsy Passion" more than
once.

"Let's get upstairs," she said.  She took my hand and led me to the
elevator. The doors closed, and it began to rise.  So did my prick.  We
were alone, but Marya was rubbing up against me like the elevator was
packed. She rubbed her hip against my leg, her breast against my arm.  I
could feel myself getting hard.  Marya had expected that.  She reached
down and grabbed my prick through my now too tight pants.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened.  Marya held my prick like a
handle and steered me out of the elevator and down the hall to my
apartment.   I wasn't sure what was going on.  Had she decided to quit
playing with the damn spell and to spend the evening with me, with me
as a man?  Was she going to make up for all the embarrassment of the
past two nights?  I smiled hopefully and fumbled for the keys to my
door.

When we got inside, Marya turned around and kissed me.  Her mouth
was open, moist and inviting.  I sent my tongue inside and explored
familiar territory. Marya moaned a little and rubbed her tits against my
chest.  I felt my prick making a tent of my pants and was afraid of
splitting them at the zipper.

Then, suddenly, I felt that damned change beginning.  The urgent pulsing
of my prick became a dull throb.  Then the feeling went away
completely.  My body was shrinking, I could feel it.  But I couldn't look.
Marya had grabbed my head in her hands, and she was forcing our
mouths to stay together.  I moved my tongue back into my own mouth.
Hers followed, teasing at mine.  I tried pushing her away, but my arms
were far too weak from the change.  I did feel something pushing at my
chest.  Then I realized that it was my breasts growing out and pushing
back at hers.

Even as I changed, I continued to respond to her kisses.  My nipples
were hard as rocks, and I felt a warm wetness growing between my legs.
I moaned a little and reached my arms up and around her neck.  Then the
tingling sensation of the change stopped.  Marya knew somehow.  She
stopped kissing me and stepped back.  "Very nice," she said.  "Okay,
Michelle.  Let's get ready for our dates."

I started undressing.  It was tricky since Mike's clothes were much too
big for me now.  The sleeves of my jacket and shirt kept falling down
and covering my fingers.  Besides, I felt frustrated and quite horny
having been left in mid arousal.  Then I realized that Marya had done
this on purpose. I was about to go out with a man, and, thanks to her
machinations, I was going to be most receptive to whatever he might
suggest.

When I was stripped, Marya lead me into the bedroom.  "Where'd you
put your new clothes, Michelle?" I told her, and she began getting
together my outfit for the night.  She reached into the drawer that I'd put
the undies into and tossed me what I had thought was a handkerchief.  It
turned out to be a red silk string bikini with black lace ties.  Marya tied
the strings at my hips.   She tied it tight so that the fabric pulled taut
against my crotch.  Then she helped me put on a pair of patterned black
stockings.  They had some kind of elastic at the top so they stayed up on
my legs by themselves.  Next came a pair of red shoes with what looked
like at least four inch heels.

"What about a bra," I asked.

"You won't need one with this dress," Marya said, leading me over to the
closet.  The sensations as I walked were incredible.  The heels made me
take smaller mincing steps that made my ass and hips sway rhythmically
as I walked. I felt my legs in the stockings brushing against each other
making little "whispery" noises.  The silky fabric of the panties rubbed
against my pussy with each step.  It was as if my clothes were making
love to me.  The dress Marya handed me was a silky red strapless gown
the same colors as my panties and shoes.  I stepped in and pulled it up,
straining to get the narrow waist past my full hips.  The dress was
strapless and cut very low. The bosom had a built in half-bra that barely
covered my nipples.  It supported my new charms even as it seemed
barely able to keep them from popping out.  The rest of the dress hugged
every ripe curve.

Marya came over and zipped up the back of the dress, so it hugged me
even tighter.  Then she began to fiddle with my right earlobe.  I felt
something sliding through the lobe, but there was no pain.  I suddenly
realized that my transformation had included my now having pierced
ears.  While Marya put in the left earring, I felt at my right ear.  A
dangling length of what turned out to be pearls hung down from the lobe.
Then Marya had me sit in a chair while she put on my make-up.  I
squirmed a little when she brought the mascara brush near my eyes but
otherwise didn't move.  Part of me was anxious for her to finish so I
could see how I looked in my female finery.

When she was done, Marya lead me back into the bedroom to the mirror.
I was astounded.  Yesterday, I'd looked like an innocent, even prudish
young girl.   Today, I saw a beautiful woman, her luscious curves
rippling in a tight red dress that looked almost painted on.  My make-up
was perfect, too. Blusher highlighted my cheekbones; shadow made my
eyes look deep; and dark red lipstick drew attention to my full lips.  I
was more turned on than ever.  I caressed my stomach and slowly ran my
hands down past my hips; then back up, finally cupping my breasts.  "I
can't believe how great I look," I said.

"More than ready to meet the boys," Marya said with a wicked smile.
"you feel as a woman feels, your body alive and tingling with every
sensation." She paused.  "I almost wonder if this counts as punishment,
considering how much you're probably going to enjoy tonight.  But then,
Mike may not like the memory of it in the morning."

That scared me.  I was going out as a woman -- as a sexually aroused
women -- to spend the evening with a man.  To spend the night, more
likely.  I don't know what scared me more.  The thought of having sex
with a man or the thought of _enjoying_ having sex with a man.  But the
way my body was feeling made the matter irrelevant.  I was turned on by
my clothes and how I looked in them, and I found myself looking
forward to whatever was going to happen.

Marya tossed me a purse.  "Let's go," she said impatiently.  "The night's
young and we're horny." I laughed nervously in agreement and followed
her out the door, locking it behind me.  We hailed a cab and were at
"Emilio's" in fifteen minutes.

Andy Parkhurst and Joe Rolffson were waiting for us inside.  I knew
both men, but was hardly in a position to admit it.  I just stood there
smiling while Andy introduced Marya, and she introduced me.  I found
myself staring at Rolffson.  He wasn't bad looking.  He was about
forty-five, still fairly trim, with hair going from black to a dark slate
gray.  He was splendidly dressed in a dark blue business suit and red tie
that probably cost him what I earned in a week.

When we first came in, Joe had given Marya and I the once over any
man gives a pretty woman that he's seeing for the first time.  Maybe it
was just my newly female vanity, but I had the feeling that he preferred
looking at me, rather than Marya.  I liked that feeling.  I took a deep
breath and smoothed the front of my dress.  Joe seemed to enjoy the
view as my breasts strained the fabric of the dress.  I knew that he was
seeing me only as a sexually attractive female, but that was what I felt
like.  At that moment, it was all that I wanted to be.

The maitre-di' lead us to a table.  Marya sat across from Andy, while I
faced Joe.  We fell into "restaurant small talk".  You know, "Where're
you from?" "How do you like the town?" "Great weather, isn't it?" That
sort of thing. When the wine steward came, Andy ordered a bottle of
what I recognized as a very expensive vintage champagne.  "I'm
celebrating my getting to spend this evening with  you two lovely
ladies," he said after ordering the wine.

he said, "and I'm celebrating in advance what I expect to be a really great
night." He smiled and looked right at me.  Then he reached across the
table and took my hands in his.  "Yes, sir, a great night." I was flustered
and not sure how to react, so I just smiled back at him.  Just then, the
waiter came to get our meal order.  Andy ordered for Marya, and Joe
ordered for me.   I wasn't used to having somebody else choose my
meals, but now it felt right to sit passively and listen to Joe tell the waiter
"what the lady will have." I suddenly found that I liked being taken care
of, being pampered if you will.

As the waiter left, the band began to play.  "Care to dance," Joe asked,
standing up and offering me his hand.  I rose, and he walked me out to
the dance floor.  There was no thought in my head about my leading.  I
happily let him took me in his arms and began guiding me around the
room.  He was a good dancer.  I enjoyed snuggling in his arms, looking
up occasionally at his smiling face.

"Why are you smiling like that," I asked him at one point.

"Because I enjoy being seen dancing with the prettiest woman in the
room," he said.  I liked that answer and drew closer to him, resting my
head on his chest.  We danced like that for quite a while.  When I looked
around, I saw Andy and Marya out on the floor, too.  She was a
wonderful dancer, a joy to watch, but I found that I wanted to
concentrate on Joe.  And on what Joe was doing to me.

We danced together before, during, and after the meal.  There's a
hundred ways to arouse a woman on the dance floor.  Joe tried them all:
blowing in my ear, rubbing and squeezing my butt, holding me close
enough to feel his manhood pressing up against my crotch.  Yeah, he
tried them all.  And they all worked.  My nipples felt hard as two rocks
pushing against the fabric of my dress.  I could feel a furnace growing in
my stomach.  I felt wet and loose and -- well -- empty down there in my
pussy.  I needed something. Something Joe had.  I knew he was probably
staying at the hotel just down the block from Emilio's, so during one
slow dance, I rubbed up against him and whispered in his ear, "Let's
finish this upstairs."

He stopped dancing and smiled.  We walked back to the table to get my
purse.   Andy and Marya saw us and came over.  "Leaving so soon,"
Andy asked.

"Just taking the party to a more private place," Joe said.

Marya reached for her own purse.  "That sounds like a nice idea, Andy.
Why don't we do the same?"  Andy didn't need to be asked twice.  He
took Marya's arm and headed for the door, stopping only long enough to
sign the tab.   Joe and I followed.  My office had a deal with Emilio's.
We brought clients there regularly, and they just sent us a monthly bill.

Joe didn't have a room at the hotel.  He had a two-bedroom suite.
Rolffson Industries must be doing even better than I'd heard.  Andy,
Marya, and I looked around for a couple of minutes, admiring the living
room and its great view of the city.  Then Andy took my hand and said
that there was an even better view in his bedroom.  I let him lead me in.
I saw that Joe and Marya had already headed for the bedroom at the
other end of the suite.

The room was almost as big as the living room, with a couple of
dressers, a work desk, and a comfortable looking queen-sized bed.
Except for a briefcase with some papers and a laptop on the desk, the
room was also immaculate. Joe turned on the radio alarm clock and
found some mood music.  He took me in his arms and we danced for a
bit till the song ended.  It felt as good as it had in the restaurant.   After
we'd danced to a second song, he opened the mini-fridge near the bed
and took out a bucket of ice with a bottle of wine in it.  "Would you like
a drink?"

I sat on the edge of the bed, while he opened the wine.  I needed
something to get me through with what I was about to do.  "Sure."  He
poured two glasses of wine and put the bottle back in the ice. He put a
glass of wine on the nightstand and handed the other to me.  I sipped
slowly, smiling at him.

Joe sat down beside me on the bed.  I put my glass down on the
nightstand beside his.  He put his arms around me and pulled me to him.
We kissed. Gently at first, then I felt his tongue on my lips.  Some new,
female instinct made me open my mouth.  Our tongues met, and we
explored one another's mouths.  I felt his arm move.  He was unzipping
my dress.  He pushed it down off my shoulders.  It slid off, and I felt the
rush of cool air on my breasts.  Joe put his hands on my breasts and
began to gently knead them.  A thumb reached up and tweaked my
nipple.  In the back of my mind I had to admire his technique.  He had
managed to get to my bare tits without ending that delicious kiss.  Not
bad, not bad at all.

But any sort of rational thought -- especially, any male rational thought
--
was soon lost in the flood of emotions, of sensations.  He moved his
mouth away from mine.  Moved it down and began to suck my left
breast.  I moaned, pushed forwards to let him get a better access to the
nipple.  When I did that, my legs moved apart on their own.  I suddenly
felt him stroking at my inner thigh.  It felt terrific!

My hand seemed to have a mind of its own.  I found myself reaching
down.  I felt his prick stiffen under his slacks.  I rubbed it a bit.  A tiny
voice in my head said to stop, to remember that I was really a man.  But I
couldn't help myself.  I ran my finger along the length of his prick.  It
seemed enormous.  I felt panic, but it was the fear of the size of the
thing, not any idea of doing a homosexual act.  I kept rubbing at it, till
he stopped me. "Not so fast," he said, moving my hand away.  "We've
got the whole night ahead of us." I smiled at him and reached up to begin
unbuttoning his shirt.  He hadn't worn an undershirt and I found myself
surprised and a little turned on by how hairy he was.

When I had the shirt about half unbuttoned, I leaned over and blew
gently on his right nipple.  Then I took it in my mouth and sucked it.
This was something that I had enjoyed as a man.  Now that I was a
woman, it seemed right to give Joe the same sort of pleasure I had felt in
the past. Something seemed to have shifted in my mind.  I wanted to
have sex as a woman.  Maybe it was the wine.  Maybe it was something
Marya had done to me.  I don't know.  But this was how I was feeling.

Joe moved his hand up my thigh to my panties.  He moved the elastic
and put his fingers inside them.  My pussy was moist and ready.  He
found it and began running a finger along the outer edge.  Then he thrust
in two or three fingers and began moving them in and out in steady
strokes.  His other hand kneaded my breast to the same rhythm. I felt my
nipples grow tight and waves of warmth spread out from breast and groin
throughout my body. I was starting to work on getting his trousers off,
when I heard a scream. "What was that?"

Joe smiled.  "That was your friend; remember, she's in the other bedroom
with Andy.  They must be really going at it."

There was another scream.  Yes, it was Marya alright, but it sounded like
she was crying for help.

Joe continued massaging my breast.  "They're having their fun; let's get
back to ours."  His other hand had found my clit and was gently plucking
it like a guitar string.  The sensation was maddening, but I was worrying
about Marya.  In all the times that we'd had sex, I'd never known her to
scream like that.

"Please, please stop," I forced myself to say.  "I'm worried about Marya."
Joe ignored me and kept on with his gentle, urgent rubbing.  My nipples
felt like two diamonds and there was a warm wetness in my groin.  I felt
my hips begin to move to the motion of his hand  If I didn't stop him in
the next minute, I knew that I'd be too aroused to be able to do anything.

"Stop it!"  I pushed him as hard as I could.  He hadn't expected that and
fell back, falling off the bed and onto the floor.  I jumped up and headed
towards the door, pulling at my panties and my dress as I ran.

Joe jumped to his feet and grabbed me by the wrist.  "I don't know what
sort of game this is, lady, but I don't like it."  He tried to swing me
around back onto the bed.  Some vestige of male instinct  took over.  I
hauled off and hit him with the punch that had gotten me onto the varsity
boxing team back in college.  He went down like a ton of bricks.

I ran out the door and over to the other bedroom.  The door was shut.
"Are you two okay in there?"

"We're fine," Andy yelled through the closed door.  I waited for Marya
to answer.  She didn't.

"Are you okay, Marya?" I asked.

"She's fine.  Go away!"  Andy sounded a little too insistent.

I pushed the door open.  "I want to hear it from Marya," I said.  Then I
saw that I wasn't going to be able to.  Marya was lying naked on the bed,
tied to the headboard and footboard by thick strands of rope.  She had a
gag in her mouth.  Andy was naked, too, but he holding a thick black
leather belt and looked like he was about to whip her with it.  Again.  I
could see a red welt across her breasts.  Before he could do anything, I
ran over and grabbed the belt.  Then I let loose with another knockout
punch from my college boxing days.  He went down as fast as Joe had.
It was nice to know that I still had that punch after eight years -- and a
sex change.

I pulled the gag out of Marya's mouth and began untying her right arm.
Then I worked on untying her legs, while she got the other arm.
"Bastard caught me by surprise," she said.  "I don't mind a little kinky
sex -- you probably know that as well as anybody.  But when he kept
trying to gag me no matter how much I said that I didn't want it, I got
worried.  I only managed a couple of screams before he got it stuffed in
my mouth."

"Let's see how he likes it," I said.  It took the two of us -- he was a
heavy guy -- but we got Andy stretched out on the bed.  I tied his arms
and legs, while Marya put the gag over his mouth.  "Don't want him to
suffocate," she said.  I had a hunch that she had other plans for Mr.
Parkhurst.

I went to check on Joe and get my shoes, while Marya got dressed.  He
was beginning to come around.  I hit him over the head with the wine
bucket.  He went down again, though the bottle didn't even crack.  I took
the bottle. It was still mostly full, and these two guys owed us some fun
for the evening.  I also found his wallet and took $25.  Cab fare.

Marya was dressed, but she was still in with Andy.  I could hear some
kind of chanting through the closed door.  I wasn't sure that I wanted to
know what she was doing, so I waited for her by the apartment door.
She came out a few minutes later, grinning like a cat in a creamery.  She
was still a little unsteady on her feet, but that would pass.  "You know,"
she said as we walked to the elevator, "I've played some pretty nasty
tricks on you the last few days.  You could just as easily have left me to
Andy's not so tender mercies."

The thought hadn't even occurred to me.  "You were in trouble," I said.
"Friends help friends in trouble."  Friends?  Yes, despite all that she'd
done to me, everything she'd put me through, I was surprised to find that
I still thought of Marya as my friend.  Maybe even more than a friend.

"Hmm.  Friends also don't put nasty spells on friends.  I owe you one -- a
big one -- _Michael_."  She looked at her watch.  "The full moon went
down about an hour ago."  She paused.  "That made what I did to Andy
even more fun."

"What did you do?"

"What I did to you.  In spades.  Come the next full moon, our Mr.
Parkhurst will find himself to be one very sexy, very submissive young
lady."

I couldn't help but giggle.  The way Andy traveled around for the
company. he could be almost anywhere in the U.S.  Maybe even
overseas.

"And there's a double compulsion spell added.  He'll not only want to
dress the part, but he'll want to seek out men to have sex with."

"I wish I could see it," I said, giggling again.  "It's certainly what he
deserves."

"I know," she said.  "And I also know that I owe you for your help.  As
soon as we get back to your place, I'll take the spell off you.   Then we
can have our own fun, and you won't have to worry about turning back
into Michelle at the next full moon."

I thought about that for a second.  When I thought about it, the good and
the bad of these last three nights, I wasn't sure.  The elevator doors
opened and we walked in.  We were the only ones in it.  Suddenly, I
knew what I wanted.  As it started back down, I reached out and put my
hand on Marya's chin.  Then, holding her head, I leaned forward and
kissed her full on the mouth.  Our tongues played together for a minute
before I broke the kiss.  I smiled.  "Break the spell?  Could I think about
that for a bit. Say, a month or two?"

Fin.