



The  Dark  Crystal

                                                             by  Olivia  Evans

Chapter One:



"Oh, God that feels so good..." The beautiful young woman moaned as she
felt the surprisingly hot, thick shaft slowly enter her.

She opened her eyes in the dimly lit room to look at her partner,
trying to imagine the face of the current video star on the blank, mask
like face of the android which had just so exquisitely penetrated her.

The Surrogate Sex Partner may have been the greatest invention ever
made, but it didn't look like the man it felt like.  Of course, it had
been designed that way, allowing the owner to imagine that it was
anyone she desired.

No, she thought, its better with my eyes closed.

She closed her eyes again, preferring the mental image her mind
provided her, as the android began its rhythmic thrusting.  At least it
felt like a real person, especially down below where it counted the
most.  And right now feeling was so much better than seeing anyway.

"Slower.., and a little deeper," she whispered, wrapping her long
slender legs around the warm body of the tireless android and pulling
it tighter against herself.  The thrusts of the artificial penis slowed
down slightly and went deeper into the warm moist cavity of the woman's
vagina as the android accommodated her command.

"Oh, yes....yes, ahhhh, yes," the young woman moaned and opened her
eyes again, not seeing the dull flesh colored tones of the synthetic
covering of the android, as she surrendered herself completely to her
mounting passion.

She slowly, deliciously, approached the threshold of her climax, her
first ever.  Hopefully it would be one of those multiple orgasms that
she had read about so many times.

"A little faster...," the woman gasped.  The android increased its
speed to met her increasingly urgent demands.  "Oh,yesss.....  I'm
commming NOW!"

The android, responding to the command code, thrust as deep as its
artificial penis would allow and shot a pulsating stream of warm,
almost hot, liquid deep into the woman's body.  It was as close to
duplicating the feel of a man's ejaculation as modern science could
devise.

To the young woman's inexperienced body, it wasn't close, it was
perfect!

As the hot liquid splashed against her waiting cervix, coherent speech
or thought became impossible as she suddenly exploded through the
threshold of mere pleasure and into a series of orgasms that flowed
through her body with wave after wave sheer ecstasy.

The android's programmed thrusts slowed and stopped briefly, allowing
the young woman's momentarily overloaded senses to cool down a little
before beginning the cycle again.

The woman closed her eyes and gently embraced the android's warm back,
savoring the still firm penis inside of her.  It was as good...  no, it
was BETTER than she could have ever imagined.

As her exhausted body slowly descended from her passion, she found
herself debating if her body could stand another session with the SSP
android.

She had just reached the conclusion that it would, when the dim lights
of the room sudden brightened to their full intensity, bringing an
equally sudden squeal of panic from the young woman.

In the full light of the room, the harsh reality of the mechanical
device made her lusty coitus seem less romantic, almost sleazy and
cheap.  Her passion rapidly diminishing, she pushed the unresisting
android away just as the door opened and an older woman stepped in.

"Mom...I, uh..." the young woman stammered when she saw an older woman
standing in the doorway.  The girl, who just moments before had been at
the zenith of her ecstasy, abruptly felt ashamed at what she had just
done.

The older woman cooly surveyed the two occupants of the room.  The
android she ignored, it was just a machine, and concentrated her
attention on the frightened girl laying sprawled on the floor.  She
looked about nineteen or twenty, very well built and very attractive.

There was no question in the older woman's mind of what had just
occurred, she could smell the sweet musk of the girl's passion in the
air.  It WAS the girl's of course, androids don't smell, not even the
custom designed deluxe models known as Surrogate Sex Partners.

The stunned young woman glanced down at her nakedness and abruptly
brought her legs together and tried to covered her firm breasts with
her hands.  Both knew that the demure gesture was too little, too late.

"Would you care to explain yourself young man?" the older woman asked
after a long pregnant pause.

"Uh, Mom...  I was just messing around, and I, uh got carried
away...and I, uh..," the young woman stammered nervously in her soft
feminine voice.  She knew that she was in real trouble.

"So I see...,." the older woman said, then sighed.  Her heavy sigh of
dismay said far more than her words.

It wasn't the fact that her son had used the SSP for sexual
stimulation, that WAS, after all, exactly what they were designed for.
It wasn't even that he had used it rather than a real partner, for his
first sexual experience.  Experimentation with sex at his age was
natural, she knew.

It was just that she wished he'd done his experimentation in his true
gender, a male, rather than as a female.

Of course, that may have been her own fault, she hadn't thought that he
would reach this stage quite so soon, and hadn't thought to include a
female SSP in the small star ship's equipment list when they started
the journey.  When her son discovered her unfortunate omission, he had
used the changer, a small device originally intended to adapt a
humanoid for survival or life in hostile environments, to change his
sex.

"You realize that your father will have to be told about this when we
arrive home don't you?" the older woman said sternly.  The young woman
cringed.

"But Mom, please don't.  He -- he wouldn't understand."

The older woman smiled to herself.  Her son was right, her straight
laced husband wouldn't understand, fortunately she did, she liked a
little variety in sex herself.  Especially when her husband wasn't
home.  What he didn't know...

"I know I shouldn't have used the SSP without your permission.  I'm
really sorry, mom," the girl said fighting back her tears.

"Alright, I'll make you a deal," the older woman said.  "If you behave
yourself for the rest of the trip, we'll just forget this happened,
alright?"

Sensing that her sentence of disclosure to her father had been
suspended, the young woman allowed herself to relax a bit.  "I promise
Mom, I'll behave myself."

The older woman looked sternly at her transformed son for a moment
longer.  She knew that he would keep his word, but just wanted to give
the impression that she was debating his answer.  Finally after what
seemed forever to the young woman, she sighed.

"Alright, I guess that I'll have to trust..."

There was a loud bang and a sudden jerking motion to the normally
stable floor.  Both mother and son listened for a second, waiting to
hear the dreaded hiss of escaping air.  Hearing nothing out of the
ordinary, the mother continued, knowing that the sturdy ship would hold
for a moment.  "As I was saying, I guess that I'll just have to trust
you to keep your word."

"I will Mom.  Honest," the young girl said sincerely as she slowly
stood up.  Her son's female body was as tall as she was, with long
shapely legs, large full breasts and soft voluptuous curves that made
her almost envious of her son's youth.  The blue eyed blonde's hair,
styled in a "ship's cut", was short, almost too short for a female, but
necessary for ship board life.  To compensate for the short hair, the
girl had pierced her ears and was wearing gold hoop earrings.

She wondered where he had found the pattern to copy it from, unaware
that he had fed a hologram copy of a model in an advertisements he'd
found in an old story cube.  An advertisement made before the current
fad of stick thin, flat chested girls became popular.

"Humph, well, we'll see, Dear.  Now go clean up and change," she paused
and smiled thoughtfully.  "Unless you would rather remain in that body
until we reach home?"

"Uh, no.  I don't think I want to be a female any longer," the girl
looked embarrassed at the thought, even though the changer had include
a mood alteration program to ease the abrupt adjustment to prevent that
very reaction.

"No?" the mother raised her eyebrow.

"No," the girl said more firmly, "I think that I like being a boy
better, it's uh, more convenient."

"Except when you want to experiment a little, right, honey?" the mother
teased.  The young woman's blush grew deeper.  "Pity you won't change
your mind.  You did a really good job on yourself.  You're a very
attractive young lady."

"Aww, Mom," the chagrined young woman said, still blushing bright red,
but in some strange way feeling very pleased by the compliment.  She
squeezed by her mother and out into the short passage way to her cabin.

The older woman watched the naked young woman as she walked barefoot
down the passage way, her hips swaying in time with her long blonde
hair.

He certainly has an interesting taste in what he considered to be the
perfect female form, she thought smiling to herself.  A little busty,
but that was understandable in a boy his age, they had no idea how much
of a pain large breasts could literally be.

Shaking her head in amusement at the unconscious wiggle in her son's
soft broad hips, the older woman turned to go in the other direction
toward the control room.  She had to find out what had caused the
sudden jolt a few minutes ago.  She hoped that it wasn't anything too
serious.

"MOM! Come here!  Quick!"

Alarmed by the tone of fear in her transfigured son's feminine voice,
she abruptly turned and rushed to his side.

"Look!", the young woman said shakily, pointing a long slender finger
at a recessed control panel next to his closed and sealed compartment
door.

Red lights lit up the panel.  They should have been all green, the
mother knew.  Seeing the solid red panel confused her for a moment, if
there had been a loss of air only one or two red lights would have been
lit.  But all of them?  What did that mean?  She didn't know and it
scared her.

Both mother and transformed son rushed to the control room, neither
paying any attention to the nakedness of the younger.

The mother sat down in one of the two chairs fixed to the floor in
front of the master panel.  She flipped a switch and looked at a dark
screen expectantly.  It flickered brightly then went dark again.

"Shit," she swore, flipping another switch.  The screen remained dark.

"What's happening Mom?" the young woman asked, sensing her mother's
apprehension.

"The visual monitors in your cabin are dead as are the other sensors.
Short of forcing the door open, there's only one other..."

She flipped another switch and the screen, filled with stars, lit up a
second later.  Grunting softly in satisfaction that the ship hadn't
lost all of its visual monitors, the mother twisted a small knob.  As
they watched, the stars began to move.

"This one's mounted on the strut right below your cabin honey.  Maybe
we can see something from outside..," Her voice trailed off as a huge
hole in the side of the ship came into view.

"Son of a Bitch!  Look at the size of that hole!"

"Don't swear darling," the mother said automatically.  She punched a
few buttons on the flight computer, and waited while the machine ran a
diagnostic check of the ship.

She wanted to chew her knuckles while during the dreadfully long wait.
She wanted to, but refrained, knowing that her son was already very
close to panic.  She bit her lower lip instead and wondered what had
happened and where the missing compartment had gone.  She was just
beginning to taste blood when the computer completed its check and
chimed.

She quickly scanned the reports and relaxed slightly.  Some FO (foreign
object), a piece of space junk probably, had hit the ship with enough
force to rip part of it away.

It was serious but not life threatening, and repairable.  The ship had
been designed for mishaps exactly like this, after all.

The worse part was that they would have to slow the ship's speed to
about half.  Half speed, when talking faster than light speeds didn't
double their travel time, it extended it by a factor of four or
slightly more than six months.  Air, food and water were not a problem,
so she wasn't concerned about that, it was the extra time she minded.

It could have been worse, she knew, much worse, the part that had been
lost had been her son's compartment.  It was lucky that he'd been in
the exercise room getting laid....  Exactly what she planned for
herself, as soon as the repairs had been made.  Getting laid by an SSP
was the second best way to relieve tension she knew of.

A thought suddenly occurred to her.  As calmly as she could she turned
to her sexy looking son.  "Darling, where did you, uh..  change before
you..."

"In my compartment.  Why?" the young woman asked not immediately
connecting the question and the jagged hole in the side of the ship.
Her mother nodded toward the monitor.

"If I'd been in there when..," the girl said relieved that she had been
occupied else where.  A look of horror crossed the young woman's face
when she realized that the only changer on board had been in the
missing compartment.

"The changer...," she whispered.

"It's gone, Honey.  I'm sorry," her mother stroked her transformed
son's soft blonde hair as the young girl burst into tears.  Seeing the
look of distress on her son's attractive face, she smiled ruefully.
"Honey, there are a lot worse things to be right now than a healthy
young female that's still alive."

"But mom, I don't want to be a female for the next six months," the
girl said, trying unsuccessfully to fight back her tears.

Well, there's nothing we can do about it now.  You'll just have to
remain a female until we get home.  Now stop your crying, we've got
work to do so we CAN get home.  "

The young woman nodded and sniffed her running nose a few times.  As
embarrassing as the thought that she would have to remain a girl for
the rest of the voyage was, it took a distant second to the safety of
the ship and themselves.

"Okay Mom, what do we need to do first?"

The older woman glanced at the status reports on the computer screen
again.  Repairs were necessary, but the situation wasn't life
threatening.  They didn't need to hurry.

"First thing we need to do is find some clothing for that sexy body of
your's," she smiled, eyeing her son's shapely body.  "I think I can
alter a few pairs of my ship's coveralls to fit.  But girl, where are
we going to find a bra big enough to hold those boobs of your's?"

"A bra?"

"Darling, I think that you'll find that what some men find most
attractive about a woman, a large bust, isn't necessarily the most
comfortable thing in the world.  Especially when the boobs are hanging
from your own chest."

The young woman looked down at her large, well formed breasts.  She
cupped them in her hands as though she was trying to estimate their
weight.  When the SSP had been playing with the astonishingly sensitive
mounds of flesh she had actually wished that they had been even bigger.
She almost regretted her rash impulse when she modified the changer's
program to increase the size of the model's big boobs.

A small part of her mind however, remembered the phenomenal sensations
the SSP had aroused when it expertly fondled her large breasts.  In
spite of her desire to return to her own male body, she could feel a
small tingle of anticipation in her nipples at the thought of six more
months of pleasure.

"It's going to be a long trip home," the girl sighed, wondering if the
android would survive the trip as well.

Her mother couldn't agree with her son more, it was going to be a long
trip.  She just hoped that the sanitary supplies on board were
sufficient for two females.

                               --O--O--O--

It was a concern that she really didn't have to worry about.

Her husband had been unsuccessfully trying to get her to have another
child for years.  She had always refused saying that it had taken this
long for her to regain her figure after having their son.

"If you want another child so much, then why don't YOU have it!  Either
that or talk your mistress into getting pregnant!" She had coldly told
her husband several days before she and her son had departed to see her
mother.  She threw her stunned husband another cold look and stormed
out of the room, leaving him to wonder how she had found out about his
mistress.

Me have it indeed!  her husband thought, and after she had agreed to be
the sole mother of the family!  Harumph!  We'll just see about that!

Unknown to either herself or her son, her husband, who knew that his
wife rarely took her birth control injections when she went to see her
parents, had secretly substituted a number of vials of frozen semen for
the normally inert liquid the SSP used to simulate ejaculation.

The semen would be injected into his wife beginning with third time she
used the services of the SSP and would continue to do so until it ran
out.  He had calculated that by the time his wife used the SSP for the
third time, sufficient time for his wife's injections to wear off would
have passed and she would be fertile again.

He had smiled in satisfaction when his wife and son took off, gleefully
aware that when they returned, his wife would be pregnant again and he
would have his wish for another son.

Unfortunately, it hadn't been his wife, but his transformed son who had
used the SSP for the third time on the trip.

                               --O--O--O--

After an initial awkward period, the two lonely women took turns using
the SSP almost daily.  It was going to be a long trip and they had to
have something to amuse them.  For a while, the SSP did the job quite
nicely.

It was well over two months later that the supply of frozen semen
finally ran out.  By then it was too late for either of the two fertile
females.

Although his mother had fallen victim to her husband's rather nasty
plot later the same day of the accident, his transformed son had been
the first to be impregnated.

By the time the small ship reached the parking cradle at their home
slightly over six months after the accidents, the two female occupants
were very pregnant and very angry at being used in such a manner,
unintentional as it may have been for one of them.

They were determined to even the score with their husband/father.  They
had discussed it at length during the trip after they had discovered
their startling condition.  They knew exactly what they wanted to do
and how they would do it.

It was two months after they had returned home before they decided it
was time to initiate their revenge on their husband/father.  The mother
mixed the drug that would ensure her husband would sleep the night
through.

They waited until he was asleep and used a changer on him, Not to
change him completely into a female, but giving him a set of ovaries
and a uterus, a womb of his own.

That wasn't all they needed to have their revenge, however.

The second stage came when they re-adjusted the carefully worked out
settings of the changer and re-routed a single small tube attached to
one of his testicles.  It now no longer entered his prostrate gland but
lead directly into his new womb.  Another tube was attached leading
from one of the ovaries back into his prostrate gland.  An ovum being
released would have to pass through the sperm rich gland before passing
thorough the urethra.

The whole operation took less than two minutes, and they were satisfied
that they had managed the changes without either his knowledge or
changing the outward appearance of his now highly modified but still
functional male organs.

Now, whenever he had sex with his mistress, the chances that an egg
would be fertilized and planted were doubled.  Their revenge would also
be doubled.

Mother and son watched late one night, just before the birth of their
babies, as their sex starved father/husband sneaked out of the house to
see his mistress.  Satisfied that it would be only a matter of time,
they returned to their rooms and waited for the birth of their babies
and the results of their careful planning.

Neither were aware that they unknowing made him one of the most famous
men in the history of the Galaxy.  Nor would they have cared if they
had know.

He was the first, but strangely not the last, male to follow that age
old insult, "Go fuck yourself!" to it's ultimate conclusion by giving
birth to triplets!

His mistress, who had thought she had been safe with her birth control
injections, had been just as surprised to find her own stomach starting
to swell along with her lover's.  She gave birth to twins three days
later.
                               --O--O--O--

The compartment, along with the FO that had removed it from the ship
with almost surgical precision, fell toward the blue-green planet and
established a decaying orbit.

Dropping lower with each revolution, it took nearly a year to touch the
upper most reaches of the atmosphere.  The foreign object, just a chunk
of rock really, burned up almost immediately.

The compartment and it's contents was better protected by the outer
hull as it rapidly reached the melting point of ordinary steel.
Designed for high temperature approaches the metal reached that point
and more.

It might have landed in one piece except for one thing, the protection
was mainly on one side of the tumbling mass.  As the less well
protected sides of the compartment hit the air stream in turn, the
compartment started to disintegrate.

By an odd quirk of fate (and fortunately for our story) the device that
had changed a young man into a voluptuous young woman landed undamaged
on a stretch of beach not far from a small vacation home.



Chapter Two:



"Gee, Daddy look at that one!" the young boy exclaimed excitedly as the
last dying embers of the compartment streaked across the sky.

"That sure was a big one, wasn't Daddy?" the young boy's older sister
said echoing her brother's excitement.

"Sure was, Honey," their father said.  He leaned against the back of
the beach chair he was sitting in and looked affectionately at his two
children.

Right at this moment, John Robbins considered himself to be the
luckiest man alive.  He had his own business that was doing well enough
for him to rent a very expensive beach house for a two week vacation, a
beautiful wife, Karen who hadn't lost any of her beauty in over eight
years of marriage and, in some ways best of all, two wonderful
children.

Christopher, or Chris as he was usually called was five, and had fine
blond hair like his father, his sister Wendy, also blonde and just
barely seven, were both bright, healthy and energetic kids who actually
liked each other.  A sharp contrast to his own childhood where it
seemed that he and his sisters were always competing with each other.

John looked at the dying embers of the camp fire they had built to warm
the cool night air and sighed.  It was time to go back inside.

"Okay, guys, time to go inside." When the expected chorus protests died
down, John repeated the command.  "It's past your bedtimes.  Now I
don't want any arguments tonight."

Knowing he was right, after all children of seven and five do wear
themselves out once in awhile, the two youngster started to pick up the
towels they had been sitting on.

John folded up the beach chair and looked out at the moonlit ocean.  A
light breeze was starting to come in from off shore, a gentle
forewarning of the heavy storm that had been predicted for the next
day.

He glanced at the still glowing coals of their fire.  He didn't think
that there would be any danger of the fire spreading, but just to be on
the safe side...

"Chris?  Why don't you get your bucket and bring some water back to
throw on the fire?"

Christopher, obviously beaming with pride that he'd been given a
"man's" job, picked up his sand bucket and ran down to the gently
rolling surf a short distance away.  John watched in the moonlight to
make sure his son was safe as he waded out a few feet and scooped up a
bucket of water.

When Chris was safely back on the sandy beach, John turned his
attention toward Wendy, who was carefully folding up the towels.  Had
he been watching his son, he would have notice him stop, pick up a
small object from the sand and place it in the pocket of his shorts.

"Is that enough water, Daddy?  Or should I go get some more?" Chris
asked as he carefully poured the bucket of water on the hissing embers.

John stirred the now cold embers with a stick.  Detecting no signs of
live coals, he shook his head.  "Just enough partner, the fire is now
officially -- out!"

His pronouncement brought cheers from his two companions.

"Okay, guys, let's go see if Mom has made us that hot chocolate she
promised." John grinned to himself as the two excited youngsters ran
screaming in delighted anticipation of the promised hot chocolate.

As the little family of four sat at the table sipping the hot
chocolate, it was obvious to the two adults that there wouldn't be any
arguments about going to bed this night.  Both kids were fighting to
keep their eyes open.

"Maybe we should just skip the showers tonight," John suggested to no
one in particular.

"Not on your life," Karen interjected.  "I just put clean sheets on and
I'd like to have at least one day without beach sand in the beds."

"Okay, who gets the first shower?" John sighed, knowing that his wife
was right.  The question usually brought on a round of "Me's", tonight
however, Wendy deferred to her younger brother.

"Chris can go first, he's more tireder than me," she said stating the
obvious.

"Chris it is then!  Okay partner, time to drink up and head for the
showers," John told his young son.  Chris, too tired to argue went
toward the bathroom.

"I'll go turn on the water for him," Karen said rising from her chair
to follow her son.

"While you're doing that, I'll wash out the cups," John said picking up
the empty cups from the table.

In the bathroom, Karen turned on the water and adjusted the temperature
of the shower.  That was the main reason she'd offered to turn on the
shower, she didn't want either of her children to become scalded by
water that was too hot.  Wendy could adjust the water by herself, and
normally Chris could too, but tonight he was so tired that he was
almost walking in his sleep.

She watched her young son as he first pulled his t-shirt over his head
then pulled his shorts off.  His clothing, clean when he had changed
just after dinner, now looked pretty grungy.  It was amazing that
little boys could get so dirty in such a few short hours.  The start of
another wash load she sighed, picking up the soiled clothing.

Out of habit gained through long experience with John she automatically
felt the pocket of the shorts.  She had found some amazing stuff in
Chris's pockets at times, nothing as exotic as a dead frog yet, but
then again, he was still young.

Her hand closed on a solid feeling cylindrical object about the size of
a tube of lipstick.  Curious what he had found this time, Karen removed
it and glanced briefly at the quartz crystal like object.  Thinking it
was another rock that he had found for his current hobby, she placed it
on the edge of the sink.

"Okay Chris, time to get out so your sister can get in."

Chris obediently got out of the shower and stood still while his mother
rubbed him briskly with a towel.  She handed him his pajamas and waited
while he pulled them on.

Satisfied that he could navigate the short distance to the bedroom he
shared with his sister, Karen called for Wendy.

Chris, with his eyes half closed, headed toward the bathroom door,
picking up the object he'd found on the beach as he passed by the sink.
Not having any pockets in his pajamas, he carried it in his hand until
he reached his bed.  Carefully depositing the crystal safely under his
pillow, Chris climbed into the twin sized bed and almost instantly fell
asleep.

A short while later, his sister also freshly showered entered the
bedroom wearing a long cotton nightgown and crawled into her own bed.
She too, fell asleep almost instantly.

Their mother stuck her head inside the room and watched her two
sleeping children for a second before smiling and closing the door.

                               --O--O--O--

"You know honey, I've been thinking," Karen said snuggling closer to
John on the couch and stared into the fireplace at the small fire.

The fire in the fireplace was just large enough to take the slight
ocean chill out of the room.  They'd both had a glass of wine after the
children had gone to bed and Karen was obviously in a cuddly mood.

"About what dear?" John raised his eyebrow and looked wearily at his
wife.  When she started a conversation like that it generally meant
more work for him.  The last time had been to remodel their kitchen.
They ate out a lot during that project.

"Oh, nothing much in particular," John knew he was really in trouble
now.  "It's just that I've been doing a lot of thinking about you and
the children."

John waited in silence wondering where this strange conversation was
leading.

"I've been thinking about how lucky I am to have someone like you for a
husband.  You're a good father to the children, handsome, strong and
terrific in bed.  And how good our children are."

"Most of the time," John interjected with a smile.  Karen nodded her
head in agreement.

"Wouldn't be nice if we had another baby, say maybe another girl?"

The question didn't exactly take John by surprise, he was observant
enough to see the signs that she wanted another baby.  Not that they
were all that subtle, Karen would stop and admire every baby within two
hundred feet when ever they went out shopping.  Either that or she
would look enviously at every pregnant woman that she saw.

"I suppose that another girl would be nice, but how about giving the
other side another player and have a boy instead?"

Karen sat upright and smiled at her husband.  "Do you mean that you're
saying yes?"

"Well, I don't know, I mean can we afford it?" John said as though he
was thinking out loud.  "I suppose that we could sell the car to pay
the doctor and maybe we might have to go on welfare for a few months to
buy baby clothing, or I could find a night job as well as the
business..."

Karen listen to her husband for a few seconds before she realized she
was being teased.  She playfully punched her husband on his broad
shoulder, bringing a pained sounding "Ouch".

"Just for that lady, I'm going to punish you."

"Oh, how?" Karen raised an eyebrow.

John stood and loomed over his wife sitting on the couch.  He reached
down and picked her up easily and started to walk to the bedroom.  "How
am I going to punish you, you ask?  Easy, I'm going to take you to our
bedroom, throw you on the bed and ravish you until you're either
pregnant or I die of exhaustion!  Since you're on the pill, I have a
feeling that the latter will happen first."

Karen gave a little squeal of delighted anticipation.  She wondered
when she would tell him that she had already decided to have another
baby and had been off the Pill for nearly two weeks.  She kissed her
husband and laid her head on his shoulder as he carried her easily in
his strong arms toward the bedroom.

Tomorrow would be soon enough, she decided, after she had been
sufficiently ravished, of course.

                               --O--O--O--

Karen smiled at her husband's sleeping form.  Exhaustion had hit him
after the second round of making love.

Right after they had finished, Karen normally would go to the bathroom
to allow the excess semen to drain before going to sleep.

Tonight however, as she had when they had conceived Wendy and Chris,
she had pulled on the tightest pair of panties she owned and left the
pillow under her hips.  She wanted as much of John to remain in her as
long as possible.  Knowing that sperm can stay alive for up to 48 hours
in a woman's vagina, she figured that morning would be enough time for
one of the little wigglers to reach its target.

She stroked her husband's strong back affectionately one last time
before falling asleep.

                               --O--O--O--

John was awakened out of a sound sleep by a small hand shaking him on
the shoulder.  Prying one sleep filled eye open, he recognized the
small shadowy figure as his son, Chris.

"Daddy, wake up....  Daddy, wake up," Chris repeated.

"What's the matter Chris?"

"I have to go to the bathroom and I can't find it," the small boy said
urgently.

"Chris I'm surprised at you.  You know where the bathroom is."

"But Daddy, please..." Chris's voice was urgent.

"Okay partner, I'll help you find it," John sighed, getting out of bed
and pulling on the shorts he'd worn the day before.  He did it as
quietly as possible not wanting to awaken Karen, unaware that like most
mothers she had awaken at the first sound of her son's voice.

Chris grabbed his father's hand and allowed himself to be lead to the
bathroom.  John flipped on the light and was surprised to see that the
small foot stool Chris used to stand on when he went to the bathroom
was already positioned in front of the toilet.

"Okay, Chris here you are.  Now hop up on the stool, pull your pants
down and let's take care of business.  I would like to get some sleep
tonight."

Chris stepped onto the stool with an urgency that confirmed his need to
urinate.  John watched as his son pulled his pajama bottoms down and
reach down to aim.

"I still can't find it!" Chris started to cry.

John started to say that the toilet was right in front of him, when his
sleep dulled mind suddenly realized Chris had been referring to
something else.

John stepped beside his son and looked down at his son's groin.

                               --O--O--O--

In the bedroom Karen had been half awake, listening to John and Chris
in the bathroom.  When she heard the strained, "Please Daddy hurry!  I
really have to go." coming from her young son, she had the feeling that
something wasn't right.

She heard the toilet seat being put down and a bare second later, a
stream of urine hitting the water in the toilet.  She relaxed
momentarily, starting to drift back to sleep.

Her sense that something was dreadfully wrong slammed back into her
mind when she heard her husband, more stressed than she'd ever heard
him before, give the terse commands, "Now use a wad of toilet paper to
wipe yourself...  No, the other way, from back to front....  That's
right...."

Suddenly more curious than concerned, Karen got out of bed and tip-toed
to the bathroom.  Standing just out side the door, she looked in.
Chris was sitting on the toilet wiping himself, but he was reaching
down between his legs rather than from the rear as he usually did when
he needed toilet paper.

She glanced at her husband.  She couldn't see his face but could tell
by the way he was standing that he was upset about something.  Upset or
not, he was obviously trying hard not to show it in front of Chris.

"All done?" John asked, his voice close to the verge of cracking.

Karen shifted her attention back to her son who had nodded and was just
beginning to stand.  She followed his movements as he reached down to
pull up his pajama bottoms.

She suddenly checked the face of her child again, not sure if hadn't
actually been Wendy rather than Chris who had come in to the bedroom.

It was her son, but somehow in the short period of time between when he
had taken his shower and now, he had lost his penis and testicles!  His
adolescent hairless groin now was a virtual duplicate of his sister's!

"Okay partner, wash your hands and go back to bed," John said looking
even paler than he had a few minutes ago.  Chris obediently washed and
dried his hands and started to leave the bathroom.  He walked out the
door and bumped into his mother who had been standing just outside the
door in stunned silence.

"Love you, Mommy," Chris said as he gave his mother a hug around her
legs.

Karen resisted the strong urge to grab her son's crotch to confirm what
she thought she had just seen.  It was all she could to find her voice
to answer, "Love you too honey."

Chris released his mother and continued on his way to his room and back
to bed, neither noticing or caring that his mother was wearing nothing
but a pair of bikini panties that were slightly damp in the crotch.

"John?  John, did I just see what I thought I saw?" Karen whispered to
her husband.  He had been standing frozen in place just staring at the
toilet.

"I hope to God that this is just a bad dream," John said more to
himself than to his wife.

Sensing that he was going to start crying, Karen stepped into the
bathroom and closed the door.  "John?  What happened?  Did Chris injure
himself or something?"

John shook his head, what he'd seen, what they had both seen, had
looked perfectly natural, if they had been looking at their daughter
rather than there son.

"No, I think that something has somehow changed him into a girl."

"A girl?" Karen asked bewildered and stunned by her husband's
confirmation of what she'd seen herself.  "But how, why?"

For the first time since she had known John, he didn't have a logical
explanation.

Karen shivered, not sure if it was from the cold or from shock.  "Let's
go back to bed, honey.  There's nothing we can do about it tonight."

John nodded numbly and allowed his wife to lead him back to their bed.



Chapter Three:



The only members of the Robbins family that got any sleep that night
were Wendy and her now transformed brother Chris.

John and Karen had laid awake for most of the remainder of the night,
listening in silence to the wind.  Karen got up once to go to the
bathroom, leaving her panties off when she return, her careful plans to
conceive another child forgotten for the moment.

Finally a bare hour before dawn, Karen broke the strained silence.
"We'll take him to the doctor in the village, maybe she'll have an
answer."

"And if she doesn't?" John asked.

"Then we'll just have to take it from there."

                               --O--O--O--

When they finally awoke from their disturbed half sleep, it was late
the next morning and to the sounds of the television in the next room.
John opened an eye and peered at the alarm clock, it was after six.

He mentally calculated the amount of sleep he'd had, between making
love to his wife and taking Chris to the bathroom...

Chris!  He jumped out of bed and hastily pulled his shorts on again.
He stopped his head long rush just before he entered the combination
living room dining room where the children were watching cartoons.

Not wanting to scare the kids, John walked as casually as he could into
the room.  "Hi guys, up early again I see," he said.  "Have anything to
eat yet?"

Wendy pointed to the table, her eyes never leaving the television
screen.  John glance at the table an saw the remains of the breakfast,
cold cereal and milk, the two had eaten.  From the looks of it they had
been up for at least an hour.

John sat down on the couch, positioned so that he could observe his
children without being obvious about it.  He carefully studied his son,
trying to see if last night had been nothing more than a bad dream
after all.

Chris, wearing the shorts and t-shirt that was almost his summer
uniform, was sitting cross legged in front of the TV.

John couldn't tell, but he thought Chris looked a little smaller, a
little more delicate, more feminine than he had the day before.  The
most notable change was his naturally blonde hair.  It was a little
darker, slightly longer and much neater than normal.  It looked almost
as though he'd recently had a haircut, a very expensive style from the
look of it.

Over all, Chris looked so normal that John wasn't sure that the changes
he thought he saw were just products of a bad dream.

Wendy and John became aware of Karen standing behind him at the same
time.

"Hi Mommy.  Did you know that Chris lost his pee-pee and became a girl
last night?" Wendy innocently asked.  Her casual remark hit the two
adults like a sledge hammer.

John could only stare at his son while Karen nodded and sat down
heavily beside her husband.  "Yes dear, we know," she said softly as
though she was afraid the she would begin screaming.  "We're going to
have to take him to the doctor because of it."

Chris glanced up at his parents and smiled, aware that he was the topic
of conversation, but not quite sure why they were making a fuss about
it.

What was wrong with being a girl?, he had asked himself when Wendy had
made the discovery earlier that morning.  After all, Wendy was a girl
and she didn't seem to mind it in the least.  Besides, he liked his
sister and thought she was a neat person.  He didn't mind the thought
of being a girl, if he could be just like her.  Although the idea of
having to sit to go to the bathroom all the time made him feel a little
funny.  But that was alright too he supposed, Wendy and Mommy both had
to and it didn't seem to bother them any.

"Chris, come here, please," Karen asked her son.  Chris reluctantly
rose from his sitting position and walked to his mother still keeping
one eye on the television.

Karen pulled the small child into her lap and hugged him tightly.
Tears began to form in her eyes.  Chris, surprised at the sudden
tearful reaction, reached up and wiped a tear away from her cheek.

"Why are you crying Mommy?" he asked.  "Are you sad about something?"
Karen shook her head, unable to answer.

John watching the two feeling sick as his wife as looked at the moment.

"Chris, do you know what happened to you last night?"

"Sure," the child shrugged, looking at his father with large serious
eyes.  "I became a girl just like Mommy and Wendy."

"What do you think --- how do you feel about it?" John, shaken by the
casual attitude of his transformed son, asked.

"Okay I guess," he said doubtfully.  Chris looked up at his mother who
by now was crying harder.  "Mommy, does this mean that I get to wear
panties and girl's stuff like dresses, just like Wendy does?"

"Until we can find a way to make you a boy again, I guess so," his
mother replied.  Chris just nodded.

"Chris?" John waited until his son's attention was turned to him again.
"I want you to think carefully about what happened"

"Okay."

"Have you been taking any kind of pills?  Say the ones in that pink
plastic container your mother keeps her birth control pills in?"

Wide eyed at the suggestion that he had done something like that, Chris
shook his head.

"John, that wouldn't have caused this and you know that Chris doesn't
like to take even baby aspirin.  Besides, I ran out of birth control
pills two weeks ago."

John glanced at his wife, knowing she was right about Chris not liking
to take any kind of medication.  He suddenly realized what she had just
said.  "You ran out two weeks ago?"

"John, we'll talk about that later, okay?" Karen smiled faintly.  John
stared at this wife for a moment and then turned his attention back to
his son.

"Chris, do you have any idea how this happened to you?" John made one
last attempt, knowing that it was futile to ask a five year old boy how
he had changed over night into a girl.

Chris surprised him however.  "Sure, I think the stone did it when I
was sleeping."

"Stone?  What stone is that?"

"The one I found last night," Chris answered truthfully.  "I think it's
magical," he added, his five year old mind trying to provide a rational
explanation to something that even he knew was impossible.

"The one you found last night?" John sat back and regarded his son for
a second, not sure if it was just another unusual piece of rock, his
"magic" stones, he was always collecting or that Chris had guessed
correctly.

"Honey, were is this stone now?" Karen asked.

"Under my pillow?" he said doubtfully.  He couldn't remember seeing it
there when he had gotten up.  "Want me to go find it?"

"I'll go find it for you," John said when he saw his wife tighten her
hold around Chris, unwilling to give up the comfort of his warm little
body.  He may have been transformed into a girl, but he was still her
child and right now he needed her, almost as much as she needed him.

John rose, walked into the children's bedroom and to Chris's bed.  He
picked the pillow up and looked for the "magic" rock.  The sheets were
bare.  John got down on his hands and knees and searched under the bed,
thinking that the rock or what ever it was, had fallen off the bed
during the night.  Still nothing.

Knowing that his son wouldn't lie to him, John ran his hand down
between the sheets of the rumpled bed.  His fingers encountered a solid
object.  The "magic" stone?, he wondered as he grasped it firmly and
pulled it out of its hiding place.  He stepped over to the window,
wanting to see it in the best possible light.

Holding it in his hand, John careful inspected the object.  For all
intents and purposes it looked like nothing more than a large piece of
smoky colored quartz crystal with gold wires wrapped tightly around one
end.  On the end with the wires there was a small loop, about the
diameter of a pencil sticking out.  It reminded him of a necklace he
thought he had seen somewhere.

Taking the crystal back to the living room, John sat down and held the
crystal in front of Chris.  "Is the 'magic rock' you're talking about?"
he asked.

Chris nodded.

"I saw that last night when Chris was taking his shower," Karen
provided.  She looked closer at the object in her husband's hand.  It
too reminded her of a necklace, Karen however knew where she had seen
one just like it.  It was one of those "good luck" crystal necklaces
she'd seen in tabloid advertisements, only larger.  She suddenly
realized that if Chris was telling the truth, then John was in terrible
danger.

"Honey, if that is what changed Chris into a girl, then I think you'd
better be careful with it," Karen warned.  Unfortunately she hadn't
thought about the possible danger to John soon enough, the change had
started the instant he fingers had touched the gold wire loop in the
bed room.

"Uh, maybe you're right," John said hastily giving the crystal to his
wife.  She carefully placed it on the cushion of the couch next to her.

"Well, what are we going to do now?" John asked.

"I think the first thing we need to do is go to the village and see the
Doctor."

As they stood up to get the girls ready, the crystal slipped between
the cutions of the couch.

                               --O--O--O--

"I'm sorry, but the doctor had to go to the city for a few days," the
nurse in the doctor's office said.  "She'll be back, uh...  let me
see," she checked a calendar pad on her desk.  "Friday."

"Friday?, But that's four days from now," John complained.

"Well if it's an emergency, there's always the hospital in
Weaverville." Weaverville was a four hour drive from the small ocean
front village over a winding mountain road.  A fairly easy, but long,
trip in their Jeep Cherokee.

John looked at Karen, who shook her head.  There didn't seem to be
anything wrong with Chris, other than his astonishing change, and Karen
didn't feel like risking the drive with a storm coming on just to
confirm something they all knew.

By the time they returned to their rented cabin, the storm had hit, and
hit hard.

John pulled the 4 wheel drive vehicle into the vacation home's turn
around.  Karen and John eyed the twenty yard distance to the house.
There was no sign that the rain would stop long enough for them to
reach the house without being soaked.

"Okay gang, on the count of three, everyone jump out and run like mad
to the house," John said, then began counting.  "....two...  three,
go!"

Fighting their way through the strong wind and rain, all were soaking
wet by the time they reached the shelter of the glass enclosed porch.

"Well now?  Who's ready for some hot chocolate?" Karen asked as they
removed their jackets.  Both children raised their hands.

"Alright then, first you both need to change out of those wet clothes
and in to something warm and dry.  By the time you are done with that,
the chocolate will be ready," she smiled as the two youngsters
scrambled to their bedroom.

"Does that include me, too?" John asked.

"Sure, go take off your wet clothes before you catch cold."

"What about you?" John asked eyeing his wife's jeans.  They were soaked
almost to mid thigh, were her long coat had protected her clothing.

Karen unbuttoned her long coat and allowed it to drop to the floor.
She grinned and seductively unzipped her jeans.  Before an astonished
John could react, she peeled them off and stretched the sweater she was
wearing down to mid thigh.

"Clever.  When did you borrow my sweater?" John asked dryly.

"When you were getting the girls dressed."

"Girls?"

Realizing what she had just said didn't sound quite right, she
recanted.  "The kids...  I'm sorry John, it just slipped out."

"Well," John sighed, "that's what they are now isn't it?  Both of
them."

The look of sadness on her husband's face tore at Karen's heart.  She
rushed to him and hugged him tightly.

"Oh,honey, don't worry, everything will be alright," Karen said close
to tears.  She hugged him tighter, savouring the smell of his wet
clothing mingled with his man scent.  Karen could feel her panties
becoming moist.  She pushed the thought from her mind, that would be
the last thing John would want to do at the moment.

"John, what if we can't find a way to change Chris back?  Would you
mind terribly if you had two little girls rather than one of each?"

John was silent for a few minutes.  Like Karen when she had been
pregnant with the kids, he'd had no real preference to the sex of
either.  "No, I suppose not.  But what about Chris, what will he -- she
think about it when she starts developing and becomes a woman?"

"Honey, that won't be for another seven or eight years at least.  By
then, I don't think she'll mind it in the least.  Being a girl isn't
the worse thing in the world, you know," Karen felt strangely annoyed
at having to defend her own sex to her husband.

"To a man it would...," He paused seeing the look of annoyance on his
wife's face.  "No, I suppose not," John agreed.  Karen gave a slight
nod and turned to the stove.

John watched his wife stir the coco into the warming chocolate milk for
the for a minute.

"Karen?" She turned and looked at him expectantly.  "I think that we
should just forget driving over to Weaverville to see the doctor for a
while.  The change doesn't seem to bother him, uh her.  Let's just let
nature takes its course and see what happens."

Karen smiled and nodded, she had come to the same decision hours ago.
But it was important to all concerned if John felt that way too.  "If
you think that's best dear."

John nodded as the two young girls came back into the room, ending
further discussion of Chris's strange condition.

"Why Chris, you look absolutely darling," Karen exclaimed when she saw
what her new daughter was wearing.  John turned and looked at his son.
He was wearing one of his sister's outfits, bright pink pull on cotton
pants and a light sweatshirt also in pink with bright little flowers on
the front.  On his feet were a pair of badly scuffed flats, also his
sister's.

In spite of the difference in height, Wendy was about three inches
taller and about five or six pounds heavier than Chris, her clothing
fit his new body surprisingly well.  And, both parents had to admit,
the girlish outfit looked strangely appropriate on their transformed
son.

"I let Christina borrow some of my things.  Was that alright?" Wendy
asked, suddenly aware of the pained look on her father's face.

Christina?  It was as good a name as any and they could still use the
shorter version, Chris.

Karen glanced at John, received his silent approval of the name, then
looked back down at Wendy.  "I think it's fine honey.  In fact, until
we can buy Christina some girl's clothing of her own, you can share
your's with her."

John didn't know if it was the sight of his son wearing his sister's
clothing, the stress of discovery of the changes or the fact that he
felt like he was coming down with a cold that suddenly made him feel
like he was exhausted.  He started toward the bedroom.

Thinking that her husband was going to change his clothing and would be
right back, Karen poured the steaming chocolate into four cups and sat
down with the kids.  A few minutes later, she heard gentle snoring
coming through the open door to the bedroom.

Poor dear, she thought, this has been so hard on him.  She decided that
she would just let him sleep.

She couldn't keep her eyes off of Chris, trying to see what difference
being a girl made in him.  He -- she, Karen hastily corrected herself,
seemed to be about the same size as yesterday, maybe a little thinner
in the body, a little fuller through the cheeks and face, but not much
different than before.  She tried to imagine what Chris would look like
as a mature woman.  She would be beautiful she decided.

"Mommy?  Are you alright?" Chris' question brought her back to the
present.

"Sure honey, I'm fine.  The question is; how are you feeling right now?
About being a girl now, I mean," Karen asked.

Chris considered the question with a gravity that seemed beyond his
years.  "It's different," he admitted.  "But I really like it."

"But what about growing up to being a man, like your Daddy?  If we
can't find a way to change you back to a boy, you may not be able to,
you know.  Not become a man and maybe a Daddy yourself someday," Karen
added to make sure that Chris understood the question.

"Not be a Daddy?" The thought hadn't occurred to the small child.
Chris considered the question for a moment, then brightened.  "Then
I'll grow up, have lots of babies and be a Mommy, just like you!"

With tears in her eyes, Karen held out her arms and told her new
daughter to come to her.  Chris climbed off the chair and went to her
mother.

"Will I grow up to be a Mommy too?" Wendy who had been watching and
listening to the conversation, asked.

Karen looked over Chris' shoulder and smiled.  "I'm sure of it honey."

Wendy smiled and watched her new sister and mother for a few minutes
more.  "Mommy?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Wouldn't it be neat if Daddy became a girl too, then we could all be
Mommies together?"

"I don't think your Daddy would like that very much, honey."

"Why not?" Chris asked, bewildered by adult logic.  If it was alright
for her to have be changed into a girl, why not her father?

"Well, for one thing, none of his clothes would fit him any more, and I
don't think he'd look too good wearing one of my bras, do you?  Too
much hair on his chest for one thing." Karen smiled at the image the
thought produced.

The picture of their hairy chested father wearing one of their mother's
flimsy looking bras brought giggles to the two little girls.

Karen told the two to finish their hot chocolate in the living room.
She wanted them occupied when she checked on John.  He didn't look like
he was handling Chris' change all that well and she wanted to look in
on him, just to make sure that he was alright.

Karen threw another log on the fire and after warning the kids to stay
away from it, she walked softly to her bedroom.

John was laying on his side in a fetal position with his back toward
the door.  He had removed his wet jeans and socks before he'd gotten
into bed and was now wearing nothing but the flannel shirt he'd had on
when they'd returned to the cabin.  His undershorts were tangled around
one ankle, resting there after he had obviously kicked them and his
blanket off in his sleep.

Karen, smiling to herself, removed his shorts from around his ankle and
re- covered him with the blanket.  She smiled down at the sleeping form
again, thinking briefly of much she loved her husband, then turned to
leave, just as John turned over on his back.

She reached the doorway when something registered in her mind.  The
hair on his bare legs had disappeared!

Feeling as thought the pit of her stomach had dropped to her knees,
Karen went back to the bed and slowly removed the blanket to look
closer at his legs.  Her inspection never got that far, stopping when
she saw his naked groin.

A groin as devoid of a penis and pair of testicles as her own!  Through
the soft downy patch of pale blonde pubic covering his mons veneris,
she could see the top of his vulva and labia majora.  She knew that if
she were spread his vulva apart to look closer, she would be able to
see the opening to his vagina.

What ever had caused her son to suddenly change into a girl, had worked
it's magic on her husband.  She knew without a doubt, that he would not
take it as lightly as Chris had.

She covered her husband up and sat down to think.



Chapter Four:



When John awoke several hours later, the house was quiet other than the
television that was softly playing in the other room.  The girls were
watching their favorite after school program, John realized as he
glanced at the alarm clock on his side of the bed.

Karen was sleeping close beside him with on arm across his waist.  She
was snoring lightly.

Not wanting to disturb his wife who obviously need her nap as much as
he had, John stared up at the ceiling.  He was wondering why he felt so
strange, it was almost as if he had suddenly become smaller, lighter in
some strange, but not entirely unpleasant way.

John turned head to face his wife, awakening her with his movements.
He waited until he thought she was awake before he whispered softly.

"Hi there beautiful, want to continue where we left off last night?" he
whispered softly and smiled.  There was a look of such incredible
sadness in Karen's eyes that he shifted around to his side to face her.
As he moved, he had felt a strange sensation, it was almost as though
his chest had shifted at a slightly slower rate than his body had.

"John...  I," Karen began as he abruptly sat up in bed and ripped the
front of his shirt open.

For a long moment neither spoke, just staring at the well formed and
distinctly feminine breasts on John's hairless chest.

"So it was the crystal after all, wasn't it?" John said, cupping his
newly formed breasts with his hands.

"John...  I'm so sorry," was all Karen had managed to say through her
tears.  John looked at his beautiful wife and tried to smile bravely.

"Look honey, it's not the worst thing that could happen, you said that
yourself, just this morning."

Karen looked at her husband strangely.  What was going on here?  It was
almost as if he had always wanted to be a girl.  She could understand
Chris' reaction, he really hadn't had enough real life experience to
understand the true dissimilarities between boys and girls beyond the
obvious plumbing differences, but John had!

Karen suddenly threw back her covers and leaped out of bed.  John
noticed that she had removed her bra and the sweater and was wearing
leaving only a pair of skimpy panties.

"What is the matter with you?" Karen demanded through her hot tears.
"Why aren't you upset with what's happened to you?  I know I certainly
am!"

John pulled the front of his shirt back together, knowing that the
sight of the breasts was even more disturbing to Karen than they had
been to him.  John thought about her logical question for a minute.  He
should have been screaming his fool head off, but he wasn't.

He really didn't have a pat answer, other than the fact than he had
been steeling himself for just this possibility.

"Karen, please come back to bed, and while I try to sort out my
feelings.  They're kind of mixed up right now.

Karen shivering in the cold air of the room, regarded her husband for a
second, then slowly crawled back into bed.

She stiffened when John pulled her close and adjusted the blankets up
to their necks.  As warmth slowly returned to her body she began to
relax, although continued to cry softly.

"Please explain to me why you're not upset.  Did you want to be a girl
before you changed, or something?" Karen sniffed.

"I really don't know.  I don't think I did.  No, I'm positive, I didn't
harbor some secret desire to be a woman."

"I'm glad.  I don't think I could handle it if you had," Karen said
simply.  Having John accidently changed into a woman was bad enough,
but it would have been unbearable if he had actually wanted it.

Karen's curiosity got the better of her.  "John, how are you feeling?
I mean this must be seem pretty strange."

"You've got that right!  Although its funny, in some ways I feel like I
always did."

"What!" Karen exclaimed.

Correctly understanding his wife's reaction, John continued.  "Karen
stop and think about it for a minute.  What is the female equivalent to
a man's penis."

The question caused Karen to think back to some sex education lessons
she'd had when she first found out she was pregnant.

"Uh, a clitoris, I guess," Karen said not quite sure what John was
leading up to.

"Correct, and testicles?"

"Ovaries," Karen replied more sure of her answers.

"And a woman's vagina?"

She had wanted to say that it was the man's penis only turned inside
out, but knew that wasn't right.  She shrugged her shoulders.

Seeing that she was stumped, John provided the answer.  "A woman's
vagina is a modified prostrate gland -- or maybe its the other way
around," he said thoughtfully, then grinned.

"So what's the point," Karen asked.  She was growing tired of the
biological Twenty Questions game her husband seemed to be putting her
through.

"The point is this, honey.  Nearly every part of this body is familiar
to me.  At least everything feels more or less normal -- just in
different location or maybe re-positioned a little differently, that's
all."

"That's all?" Karen exclaimed.  "That's all?", she repeated as she
pulled her pillow out from under her and began to hit John with it.
"Damn you!  You turn into a woman and 'that's all' is all you can say
about it?  I'll 'that's all' you!  I can't wait until you try to go to
the bathroom with that 're- positioned' penis of yours!"

John protected himself until Karen wore herself out.  Huge tears formed
in her eyes as she fell against John's soft chest and sobbed.

Startled by the sudden jolt of pain in a breast where none had ever
existed before, John sucked in a pained breath of air.  Instantly
realizing that she had inadvertently hurt her husband, Karen began to
gently rub his sore breast, crying softly that she was sorry.

Neither realized what her gentle manipulations on John's newly formed
breast were doing to him, until John felt a a strange warmth and
moisture between his legs.  John gently removed Karen's hand and
twisted around to kiss his wife.

At first Karen resisted, but John was persistent and held her in a
tight embrace.  After a few seconds Karen gave in and started to return
the kiss with a passion that equalled or exceeded John's.

Karen reached around her husband's back and started to caress the small
of his back, occasionally dropping lower to feel the soft hairless
curves of his rear.  John was astonished at how sensitive his rear had
suddenly become.

Karen broke loose for an instant and looked deep into her feminized
husband's eyes.  "I love you John.  I love you very much."

John started to reply in kind but was stopped when Karen placed two
fingers firmly on his lips.  "Please don't say anything.  Not just yet
darling.  Save it for later, when the girls are asleep."

John feeling a little like Karen did when he abruptly ended foreplay,
sighed and nodded.  "Later then."

Karen got out bed, went to her dresser and began digging thorough the
small supply of bras she's brought along with her.  John watched her
curiously as she found the one she wanted and put it on.  He expected
her to put the sweater and a pair of pants on next, but she surprised
him by continuing her search.

A few seconds later she obviously found what she'd been looking for and
placed it on the dresser.  From his lower position in the bed he
couldn't see what she'd found.  Or still needed he realized as she
moved to another drawer and began to dig though that one.  This time
her search ended more quickly.

Turning she tossed the products of her search to John.  Deftly catching
them before the hit the bed, John looked at them curiously.  They were
a pair of panties and a bra, both the stretch one size fits all kind
that Karen used when she was starting her period.

"A Bra and panties?" he asked raising his eyebrow.

"You may think you still have all your old parts dear, even if they are
'just in different locations', as you put it.  But I think you'll find
that the package they're in has changed quite a bit." Karen grinned.

"Can't I just use my own underwear?" John asked holding up the panties.

"Sorry dear, no you can't.  Take it from me, very little of what you
could wear this morning will fit you right."

"Uh., not even my jeans?" John asked, knowing that they would fit a
woman of Karen's size, as she frequently proved.

"Nope, not even them," Karen smiled as John looked dismayed.  "Just
wait until you see yourself in a mirror.  Girl, you're in for the
surprise of your life."

Karen sat down on a chair and watch his every move, an amused smile on
her face.

John nodded and setting the bra and panties on the bed slid his feet
over the edge of the bed.  John figured that he would be a little
smaller, most women were, but it seemed like a long time before his
feet touched the cold floor.

John was conditioned by his mental image of what he had always looked
for in attractive women, a body that more or less conformed with
Karen's, including her height of just over five feet seven inches.  He
was wrong to assume that everyone's image of the ideal woman was
similar to his own.  Of course but he wasn't to realize it for a while
yet.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slipped his feet into Karen's
panties.  He stood and reached under his flannel shirt tail and pulled
them up to and above his old natural waist line.

He ran his hands over the soft stretch material, thinking that his soft
curving rear felt almost exactly like Karen's did when he ran his hands
over her rear.

Strangely the one size fits all panties felt a little looser on him
than they appeared to be on Karen.  He glanced up at his wife trying to
read something other than amusement in her face.

"Take off your shirt and try on your bra, Dear," Karen suggested.

John nodded, beginning to feel uncomfortable getting dressed in women's
clothing for the first time in his life, especially when his wife was
there with that silly little smirk on her face!

Reaching to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt, John was startled to
realize that some time during his sleep, Karen had already rolled them
up to just below his elbows.  Knowing that the shirt was much larger
now than when he had put it on, John removed it by the simple method of
holding his arms straight down behind his back, arching his shoulders a
little and allowing it to slide to the floor.

The cold air caused his nipples to stiffen and his embarrassment grew
as he struggled to get the bra on.

He had watched his wife getting dressed enough to know the principle of
putting on a bra.  But knowing the principle and putting it to practice
are two different things.  He couldn't figure out how to fasten the
small hooks and still keep the straps from falling off of his narrow
shoulders.

Pride prevented him from asking his now smirking wife, so he turned it
back to front, hooked the clips and reversed it again.  A few seconds
later he had managed to position the garment more or less correctly and
was trying to adjust his breasts into the cups.

For a one size fits all, this bra feels awfully loose looking, he
thought to himself as he looked up from the bra to his wife.  No
matter, he had known that he would have to buy new clothing anyway.

"Okay, got something I can wear over this stuff?" he asked.

"Sure what would you like a dress or skirt and blouse?" Karen smiled.

"Uh, just a pair of your jeans and a t-shirt would be fine for now,
okay?" John said, annoyed at his wife who seemed to be enjoying his
fumbling.

It was when he was pulling on Karen's tightest pair of jeans she owned
that John realized that he had changed even more than he had realized.
The jeans that had fit Karen almost too snugly, fit him as though they
were two sizes too big through the hips and waist, and three sizes too
short.

"My God, what size am I?" John asked looking at his wife in stunned
surprise.  Karen stood and walked over to her feminized husband.  The
closer she came the larger and taller she appeared, John stepped back
not sure what she intended to do.

"Relax dear, I'm not going to hurt you," Karen said reaching a hand
between the waist band of the jeans and John's body.  She pulled
slightly, causing John to be jerked forward slightly.

"Hum, about three inches.  I wear a size 9 which makes my waist about
27 inches.  You're about two or three inches smaller...  Just off hand
I'd say you're a size five or maybe even a size three...  That's in a
petite of course," Karen said looking down at him.

John knew Karen was just slightly over five foot seven inches in her
stocking feet, as she was now...  he glanced up at her trying to judge
the difference between their heights.  It seemed to be at least five
inches.  That would make him...

"I'm five foot two?" he asked incredulously.  Everything suddenly
snapped into perspective and seemed to grow larger.

Karen nodded, "Yup, that'd be my guess too.  Five foot two, with blonde
hair and blue eyes, weighing in at no more than 95 -- 98 pounds, at the
most," she sighed.  "God, John, I know that you can't appreciate it
now, but you're a real cutie, just a regular living breathing doll."

"Don't rub it in," John snapped.  When he had awaken and first
discovered himself to be a woman, he had expected that there would be
some loss of height and weight.  But ten inches and over a hundred
pounds?  No wonder Karen had been able to knock him around so easily!

"This is insane!" John exclaimed, his tone left no doubt that he was
growing closer to panic.  Karen suddenly threw her arms around him,
nearly knocking him over again.  She hugged him tightly, so tightly
that he almost couldn't breathe.

"Oh, John please don't do that.  This has been even more difficult for
me.  I just couldn't bare it if you suddenly went to pieces on me now,
not when I need your strength more than ever," Karen sniffed.

Sure easy for you to say, you haven't been turned into the size of a
circus midget in the space of a few hours, John thought bitterly.
Karen suddenly released her bear hug like grip and held him out at arms
length, once again nearly knocking him off balance.

Karen sniffed a few times and tried to smile, obviously upset as much
or more than John was.

"Don't be upset about your height, darling.  It isn't your fault, I
know that.  Besides, it isn't all that bad.  Just remember how that old
saying goes," Karen sniffed once more then tried to smile.

"Old saying?" For the life of him, John couldn't remember any "old
saying" that would cover his situation.

"Yeah, you know the one men always say about tall women?  Tall or
short, when we're flat on our backs with our legs spread apart, we're
all the same height." Karen smiled.

"Jeez, that disgusting," John snapped, suddenly feeling the urgent need
to pee.  He jerked lose of Karen's surprisingly strong grasp and
started to the bathroom, only to nearly trip over the long legs of the
jeans he was wearing.

Snarling to himself, John pulled the jeans off, unbuttoning, but not
bothering to unzip them more than part way in the process.  Grabbing
one of his old t-shirts, he pulled it over his head and continued to
the bathroom.

Karen caught up with him a few seconds later, panties dangling from his
ankles and his tiny bare feet resting comfortably on Chris's foot
stool.

"Feeling better?" Karen asked as she heard the simultaneous sound of
urine hitting the water and John's sigh as he wiped himself.

"I will be in just a second," John flushed the toilet and pulled his
arms inside of the grossly oversized t-shirt.  He fumbled around a few
minutes.

Karen, who had been wondering what he was doing under the shirt, was
surprised when John's arms suddenly reappeared thorough the arm holes.
In one hand was her bra which he tossed to the sink.

In one quick movement John stood up pulled up the panties Karen had
given him.  Not that it mattered much, the t-shirt hit him just above
the knees and fit like a tent, concealing the fact that he wasn't
wearing a bra.

"John," Karen sounded as though she was shocked by what her husband had
just done.  "You can't go around half naked under that thing.  What
will the girls think?"

John regarded his much larger wife for a moment.  "What they will
think, is that your clothing is too large for Daddy now!  I'm staying
like this until the storm lets up...  Then you can take the charge
cards to the village and bring me back something that fits at least
half way decently."

"Yes, dear," Karen said, looking demurely down at the floor.  John
nodded to himself, Karen maybe five inches taller and out weight him by
at least thirty pounds, but there was no question as to who the boss in
the family was!  It was him!

Or so he thought.

The girls, who had already been told that their father had changed just
as Chris had, silently inspected their once tall and muscular father as
he walked bare foot into the living room.  Two pairs of eyes grew wide
as they saw how tiny he'd become.

While he could still look down at his kids, he was a bare twenty inches
taller than Wendy and out weighed her by a little more than forty
pounds.  That wasn't much difference when compared to his previous
size, but John was grateful for even that small amount.

There was a strained silence as the two young girls absorbed what they
were seeing.  Chris was the first to break the silence when he screamed
"Daddy!" and hugged his father's petite body.  John, startled by the
unfamiliar sensation of having someone push hard against his sensitive
breasts, hesitated and returned the hug.  When they broke from each
other, John reached down and tosseled his new daughter's short blonde
hair.

"How ya' doin', partner?"

"Fine, Daddy," Chris said softly, staring up at his father's feminine
face.

Sensing that Chris wanted to say something else to him, John leaned
bringing his face close to Chris's.

"I think you're really pretty Daddy," Chris said.  Then he did
something that surprised John.  "I love you Daddy," Chris said as he
planted a big kiss on John's soft hairless cheek.

That was something he hadn't done in a long time, John thought.  Of
course, I'm not as intimidating right now as I was this morning.  "I
love you too, Christina," John said as he returned his son's kiss.

"I think he's beautiful," Wendy chimed in, not to be outdone by her
sister.

"Thank you, dear," John said as he could feel himself blushing.

John moved closer to the fire place, shivering slightly in his t-shirt
and panties.  He was beginning to regret telling Karen that he wouldn't
wear any of her clothing.  If nothing else, he certainly could use a
pair of socks right now --- his tiny feet were freezing!

Ordinarily the beach at this time of the year was a constant and
pleasant 80 degrees, a late winter storm had dropped the temperature to
a very cool 50.

Karen had been watching her husband, he was obviously cold, yet was
still trying to "take it like a man".  She knew that she had to do
something.

"John, come back to the bedroom.  I want to take your measurements.
Then I'll go into the village for some clothing for you."

John allowed himself to be measured, although it was difficult to stand
still whenever the cold metal tape measure touched his bare skin.

"You poor dear, you must be really cold, your goose bumps are almost as
big as your boobs," Karen teased.  John resisted looking down at his
chest.

"Just a few minutes more and I'll be done," Karen said writing his hip
measurements on a sheet of paper.

John looked over her shoulder and read the measurements of his new
feminine body, 35-25-37.  He wasn't all that impressed other than for
the fact that his chest measurements were now only slightly larger than
what his waist had been.  He noticed that something was missing from
the list.

"What about shoes?" he asked.  Karen took the tape and started to
measure the length of his foot.  John watched for a second then stopped
her.  "It might be better if you traced an outline of my foot on a
piece of paper."

Karen nodded.  A few minutes later she had the outline of his small
foot safely in her pocket with his measurements..  Seeing that she was
finally finished, John quickly pulled the t-shirt back over his body.
Karen handed him the sweater she'd been wearing and told him to put it
on, wrap himself in a blanket and stay on the couch until she returned.
                               --O--O--O--

John watched through Karen drive off toward the village through the
living room's huge plate glass window.  He hadn't wanted to do any
exploration or even look at himself in a mirror as long as Karen was
around.  It wasn't that he didn't want to, it was just that he knew
that he would be touching and, to some extent, prodding areas and
things that might embarrass them both.

He glanced at the clock on the mantle, it was just after three.  John
knew that the trip into town would take about twenty minutes, maybe a
little longer because of the heavy rain.  Twenty minutes to town, maybe
forty minutes to shop, another twenty minutes for Karen to return.

He would have at the most an hour and a half, to satisfy his curiosity.
Glancing at his children, John settled on the couch, tucking his
slender legs under his huge feeling rear.

He kept one eye on the kids, ready to stop the instant either of them
showed any signs of interest in what he would be doing.  Making sure
that he was well covered, John slowly pulled his t-shirt and sweater up
as high as they could go, just above his new breasts.  He debated about
trying to pull his panties off, but decided not, that portion of his
body was best explored in the bathroom, safely behind locked a door.

He would be methodical about his inspection he decided.  Start with his
feet and work his way up.

He reached down and touched a foot with the tips of his fingers.  He
felt around a few seconds before running his hand slowly up his ankle
bone and along his leg.  Frowning to himself he brought his hand up
higher on his leg until he reached the point where his hip bone joined
his pelvis.

Frowning again, he reversed his direction, ending up at his foot.
Except for considerably less hair, although there was barely enough to
feel, his leg felt exactly as it had before he'd changed.  He couldn't
understand it.  He knew, having discovered his greatly reduced height
when he'd had to look up at his wife, that his body was smaller and
lighter.  Yet, it felt exactly the same as it had before.

When he'd been a man, he'd been able to grip his wrist with his other
hand by touching his finger tips to his thumb.  He still could do it.
In fact, it appeared to be just slightly smaller, but not that much.
The same with his leg, the length at least along the side of his leg
felt, as it had before.

Had his body really changed?  Or was it some kind of incredible
illusion, unmasked only when you didn't actually see the changes but
only felt them with your hands.  Could this too be some kind of trick
or illusion, nothing more than smoke and mirrors?

If that were the case, then it would explain why he had the feeling
that everything about himself was normal...  He ran his hand through
his hair, thinking.

The fatal flaw in the theory was of course, the heavy weights attached
firmly to his chest, the almost perfectly formed and shaped breasts.
That and the fact that while the texture of his hair felt exactly the
same, and was nearly the same length he had could feel that it was cut
differently.

John ran his hand through his hair again, deep in thought.  It suddenly
occurred to him that perhaps the reason for these conflicting signals
his eyes and his hands were sending him, might possibly be because
proportionally, his hands were the same as they always had been.

John abruptly stood and wrapped the blanket tightly around his body.
Glancing at the children, John gathered up the ends of the blanket and
walked to the bathroom.

He realized when he walked through the open door of the bathroom that
until now he'd been carefully avoiding looking at himself in a mirror.
Even when he'd gone to the bathroom shortly after getting out of bed,
he'd kept his eyes averted.  Now his curiosity was starting to get the
better of him.  He closed his eyes and moved to the sink and the mirror
mounted above it by feel.

Taking a deep breath, then another, he opened his eyes and stared at
his image.  The mirror, installed to meet the needs of someone at least
Karen's height, reflected his image from the top of his head down to
about the tip of his nose.

He had just enough time to note, before he turned to look for Chris's
foot stool to stand on, that his hair, while still blonde, was both
darker and shorter.  Finding the small wooden platform, John stepped up
on it and looked in the mirror again.

It was also cut in the same feminine style as Chris's.  Now there was
no question in his mind, whatever had caused Chris's change, had done
it to him too.  The crystal had been the only common denomiator.

Even though he had briefly explored his body with his hands under the
blanket in the living room, he wasn't quite prepared when he pulled off
his clothing and looked at it in the mirror.  Karen had been right, he
realized with a shock, he was beautiful.

He still had most of his facial features, highly femininized, but still
recognizable as his own.  That was where all similarity between his
male body and his new body ended.  His neck was long and slender ending
in sloping narrow shoulders.  His once hairy chest was now completely
devoid of any hair, but sported two well-shaped, distinctly feminine
breasts that jiggled a little with every moved he made.

His waist appeared to be much narrower than before, which it was of
course, but it's narrowness was emphasized by the expanse of the
curving hips below it.

He turned to look at his profile, noting his well rounded rear.  It
felt huge to him, yet didn't appear to be out of proportion in the
mirror.  He decided that it felt that way because he'd never had a
woman's ass before.

All in all, he had a very well proportioned body, one that was neither
too large in the hips or bust, but was almost girlishly slender, firm
and yet still lithe and supple.  Who ever, or whatever, had programmed
the crystal's female body design criteria, had done an excellent job.
And as much as he hated to admit it, it was very sexy looking.

It was a dancer's body, he decided.  He stretched his arms above his
head with the palms of his hands facing forward.  Slowly he bent over,
keeping both his arms and legs straight until he touched the floor with
his finger tips.  Keeping his knees straight and bending a little more,
he laid his hands flat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom.  He
remained in this rather ungainly position for the count of ten, then
slowly straightened up, a silly little grin on his face.  He'd never
been able to that before!  Not even close!

Yes, it was definitely a dancer's limber body.  John sighed and
returned to his inspection, discovering that his new found flexibility
gave him the ability to inspect himself from some unusual angles.

The petite female body was perfect in every respect except for three;
it was too damned female, too damned short and worst of all he was in
it!

                               --O--O--O--

John heard the Jeep's wheels grinding on the gravel of the turn around.
Karen had returned from her shopping trip.  John glanced at the clock
on the mantle.  She had been gone nearly three hours.

John walked out to the glassed in porch and waited for Karen to come
inside.  When she got out of the vehicle, she ran around to the back
and opened the tailgate and began gathering packages together.

Seeing that she would need help, John tossed the blanket on to one of
the lawn chairs and pulled on his wind breaker.  He tried to push the
sleeves up, but was annoyed to discover that they kept sliding down
over his hands.

He was just rolling the second sleeve up, when Karen dashed to the
porch and ducked inside.  She seemed surprised to see him on the porch,
obviously expecting him to be still sitting on the couch.

"Very cute," she smiled sliding past him.

"Cute?" John asked, not understanding what she was referring to.

"Your outfit," she said going into the house.

John followed her inside.  "What are you talking about?  I'm not
wearing any outfit."

"Then what do you call that?" Karen pointed to his oversized wind
breaker and sweater.  His bare legs were sticking out underneath.  The
sweater looked almost like a large knit dress on the tiny John.

"I was going to come out and help," he said lamely.

"There's nothing else in the car, honey.  Come on, let's get you
dressed," Karen smiled.  "Just wait until you see what I found for
you."

John retrieved his blanket and followed his wife into the house and
into the bedroom.  Karen unceremoniously dumped the packages on to the
still unmade bed.

"Looks like you bought out the whole village," John remarked looking at
the pile of packages.

Karen followed his gaze and shook her head.  "Not really, I was had a
terrible time finding things in your size.  The village shops just
didn't have much in the way to offer for a small sized woman."

John shivered, realizing that it was something he'd have to begin
worrying about himself.  "Well, obviously you were able to find
something.  Do you mind if I put something on?"

Karen rummaged through the packages, finally finding the one she
wanted.  She dumped the contents out on the bed.  John stared at the
pile of panties and bras.  There were at least six of each.  Despite
her assertion that the stores didn't have anything, Karen had bought
enough to outfit a small army -- or at least a couple of very small
women.

"Here, put these on first," Karen said holding out a pair of soft nylon
panties.  John looked at the peach color briefs and shuddered.  Karen
watched as he pulled them on under his long sweater, wondering if he
was going to try to put the bra on while still wearing the sweater.

The panties, a size five, fit perfectly as did the matching lace
covered bra, a size 34 "C".

John had watched his wife enough times getting dressed to have a fair
idea how to put on a bra.  Karen watched silently as John removed his
sweater and tried to put on the bra.  She didn't offer to help knowing
that her husband was both too embarrassed to ask and that he would have
to learn how to do it himself.

John hadn't protested when he'd seen the amount of lace on either the
panties or the cups of the bra.  He'd bought enough of the garments as
gifts for Karen to know that most women's undergarments look like that.

Karen stood staring at her husband in his panties and bra for a moment.
If she hadn't known who he was, or had been, she never would have
thought that the small sexy looking woman was her husband.  The thought
that he had a very sexy and very feminine body kept running unbidden
through her mind.

"Are you going to stand there staring at me in my bra and panties all
day, or do I get to wear something over them," John said annoyed when
he saw his wife staring at him.  She blushed and dug through another
package.

John watched as she pulled out a smaller package of white cotton socks.
John tore open the package and pulled a pair on.  The thin socks made
his feet look smaller somehow.  He looked at them then folded the top
over once, making a cuff.

By the time he'd finished that, Karen had removed a pair of jeans and a
white tank top from another package.

"A little cold for something like this, isn't it?" he asked holding up
the top.

"We'll layer it with this," Karen said handing him a blue denim blouse
styled like a man's work shirt.

John slipped his arms into the sleeves, and started to button the
blouse up, then decided not to.  Karen by this time, had removed a pair
of white tennis shoes and laid them on the bed.

Karen had been watching him get dressed, sighed, then turned her head
quickly away.

"What's the matter?" John asked when he saw his wife's reaction.  She
shook her head keeping her face adverted.

"Karen, what is the matter," John repeated, although he already knew
the answer.

"You," Karen sniffed.  "You have a terrific body."

"Uh, you're not jealous are you?" John asked, surprised.  He slipped
his feet into the new tennis shoes and tied the laces, watching his
wife carefully.

"Yes, damn it, I'm," Karen said angrily.  "I feel as though I'm going
to end up competing against you for -- for -- everything."

John stepped to his wife and hugged her until her shivering stopped.
It felt odd, not only the pressure against his breasts, but the fact
that he now had to look up to see her face.

"Karen, I know this sounds hard to believe.  But inside this woman's
body beats the heart and sole of a man -- of John Robins, your husband
and father to your two children," John paused to see if Karen
understood what he was trying to say.  "I don't see how you can
seriously think that I'll be in competition with you!"

"No?" Karen grabbed his shoulders and roughly turned him to the mirror
on the dresser.  "Stop and take a good hard look at yourself!"

John looked.  Until now, his male orientated mind had automatically
gone into a defensive mode and merely thought of his body as a great
inconvenience.  Now that he had put some clothing on and was no longer
distracted by its nakedness, John suddenly realized what Karen had
meant.

As he stared at his reflection he suddenly realized that he looked
younger than Karen, maybe as much as six or seven years younger.  About
the age she had been before they had married and she had the children.
He was not only a woman, but a young one at that.  To Karen it would
seem as though his transformation was a double whammy.

"Karen," John whispered.  "I love you.  I always will...  Its just
that..."

"Its just that you have a little handicap right at the moment?" Karen
interjected.  Her voice altered between bitterness and sarcasm.  "Maybe
I should try to get the crystal to change me into a man...  At least
then we could still make love in the normal way."

John raised his shapely eyebrow.  "What makes you think that I would
want sex with a man?"

"Would you?"

"The thought crossed my mind," John answered seriously.  He had
considered that aspect of being a woman, and had rejected it out of
hand.  He started to tell Karen that he had considered it and rejected
it almost as fast as the thought occurred.

Karen turned her head away and began crying again.  John tried to
comfort her without success.  "Just go..." Karen sniffed.  "Go play
with the kids or something.  I need to be alone."

John looked at his wife for a moment then left the room.  He'd lived
with Karen long enough to know that when she was in this kind of mood,
it was best to leave her alone to work things out.

John wandered into the living room where Chris and Wendy were watching
cartoons on TV. He watched along with them for a few minutes then
decided that this was as good a time as any to work on the proposal he
was working on for one of his customers.

John removed his briefcase from the closet where he had stashed it the
day of their arrival at the beach house.  Surprised at how heavy it had
grown, John carried the case to the table, opened it and removed a
folder and a small notebook computer.

He'd spent weeks trying to find just the right angle that would insure
the deal, finally giving up in near frustration.  Now, as he worked,
John slowly became aware that the words seemed to come easier.  His
long slender fingers flew over the keyboard creating a proposal that
was better than anything he'd ever done before.

He didn't notice Karen as she came out of the bedroom several hours
later.  She watched him for a few minutes then disappeared into the
kitchen.

"You look like you might need this," Karen said about ten minutes later
as she put a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of her
husband.  John picked up the mug, took a sip and set it down.  Karen
sat down across from John and slowly drank her coffee as she watched
him.

Karen smiled.  She hadn't seen John this engrossed in his work in
years.  And all it had taken was the sudden removal of his balls...
She almost laughed.

John hearing the slight giggle glanced up and smiled as though it was
the first time he was actually aware that she had been sitting across
from him.

"I'll be done in a few more minutes, honey," John said, then returned
to his notebook.

Well, at least that much of him hasn't changed, Karen smiled to
herself.  She glanced out of the large picture window.  The ocean had
calmed and it looked like the sky was clearing.  Maybe they could go
swimming again tomorrow.

                               --O--O--O--

John glanced up at his wife.  Karen had a distant look in her eyes as
she stared out the window.  He knew that she had reached a decision.
He hoped it would be one he could accept.

He returned his attention to the screen of his notebook.  He realized
with a shock that he had repeated the last paragraph almost word for
word.  How many other mistakes had he made?  He sighed and hit the
"home" key.

As he read, his mind drifted back to the strange new body he had
suddenly found himself in.  Without his knowledge, his subconscious had
been slowly and carefully analyzing what was going on inside of him as
he worked on his proposal.

His subconscious had come to the conclusion that if John wanted to
suddenly become a woman -- a completely normal and healthy woman --
then it was alright with it.  John's subconscious began to look forward
to the experience.

On a conscious level, John had been flooded with a strange mixture of
interest and disgust with the way his body felt.  He liked the fact
that he didn't have to shave his face, but hated the idea that he would
now be expected to shave his legs and underarms.  His heavy breasts
were annoying to say the least, yet the reactions of his sensitive
nipples was -- interesting to say the least.  As far as the absence of
his penis and testicles were concerned, he had found that their absence
made it easier to sit down.  He had already discovered that there was
no lack of sensation, if anything it had actually increased.  Like his
son before him, John was beginning to think that it wasn't all that bad
being a girl.

                               --O--O--O--

"John can we talk for a minute?" Karen's question brought John back to
the present.  He saved his document and turned off the notebook
computer.

"John, I've been thinking," Karen said slowly, "about us."

"Karen, I know this has been hard on you..." John began.

"Let me finish.  I want you to know that I love you."

"That's nice.  I love you too."

"John," Karen warned.  "I love you, but if you can't find a way back to
your old body, we can't stay married to each other."

"I know, honey," John said sadly.  He too had been giving it some
thought.  It wouldn't be fair to Karen to try to force her to stay with
him.  She was a normal woman, one who needed a man at her side, not the
freak that he had suddenly turned into.  "When we get back, we'll file
for a divorce.  You'll be free to find someone else and get on with
your life."

Karen looked startled, as though the thought of finding a new husband
hadn't really occurred to her before.  She laughed lightly and shook
her head.

"What makes you think that I want anyone else in my life?"

"But Karen you're a normal healthy woman and..."

"And?"

"And you need more than I can give you."

"And what is that dear?" Karen broke into an amused smile at John's
look of confusion.

"Someone to provide for you, someone to grow old with you...  someone
that you can love and will love you in return." John countered.

"So far you haven't mentioned anything that you can't do, even as you
are right now," Karen smiled.  "You've done a very good job of
providing for both myself and the girls, we love each other, and we can
grow old together even though you do appear to be younger than I am
right now.  I don't see any reason why all that should stop now, just
because you've grown a pair of tits and a pussy.  We can tell anyone
nosy enough to ask that we're sisters or something."

"Sisters?  But what about -- uh, sex?" John asked, blushing.

"What about it?"

"Well, uh -- you know.  I can't..."

"Stick your penis inside of me?" Karen provided.

"Uh, well yes," John was strangely embarrassed.  He'd never had a
problem discussing sex before.

Karen regarded John for a second, then smiled and leaned back in her
chair.  "When you changed I was, to put it mildly, upset.  Once I grew
more or less resigned to the idea that you were now a woman, I began to
notice something different about you.  Besides, the obvious, I mean.
The tension was gone."

"The tension?  What tension?" John asked confused.  He'd always thought
that he and Karen got along very well.

"Honey, you haven't been a woman long enough to realize it, but there
is always a sexual tension between men and women.  Men generally aren't
aware of it, or maybe they don't even care, but women certainly are and
do!  Men make light of the so called 'war between the sexes' but I can
assure you that to a woman, it is very real."

"I never felt that way..." John protested.

"John darling, take it from me, you did.  You couldn't help it, you
poor dear, you were being controlled by biology."

"Biology?  I'm not sure I understand."

Karen giggled.  "There were times, more often than not, when it seemed
to me that your brains were hanging between your legs.  Now that
there's nothing there, you're beginning to think with your head and
heart rather than with your balls.  It is a refreshing relief.  I can
finally relate to you without that penis of your's getting between us."

John thought about it for a moment.  Now that Karen had pointed it out,
he did seem to feel calmer, more at ease with himself.  He suddenly
remembered their conversation the night before his change.  "But what
about having another baby...  I certainly can't get you preg..."

Karen placed her finger tips against John's lips, silencing him.

"There you go again dear, thinking with your balls rather than your
mind and heart.  Besides, you don't have to worry, after last night, we
just might have that baby after all.  If not, it doesn't really matter,
darling."

"You're saying that now, but what if you change your mind later?" John
insisted.

"John, dear -- we really have to think up a girl's name for you -- I'm
really very happy with our little family as it is." Karen paused and
smiled.  "You may want to consider having one yourself some day,
however.  After all, its your biological clock that's ticking now too."

John blushed and looked down at his breasts.  He wondered if he would
ever become that much of a woman.

Karen smiled at the thoughtful expression on her transformed husband's
face.  She knew that she had just planted the seed of an idea in her
husband's mind.  Whether or not it would bare fruit, only time would
tell.  Karen decided that she had better end the serious conversation
with a lighter subject.

"Think we'll be able to go swimming tomorrow?"

John looked out the picture window.  "I suppose so, why?"

"I bought you the cutest little bathing suit."

"You did?" John's thoughts were brought back to the changes in his
body.

"Yes, I know that you'll just love it!  Its exactly like the ones that
we saw on that girl on beach the other day."

"Which girl was that?" John asked.  There had been a dozen or so young
women wearing bathing suits.

"The one in the yellow thong bikini."

"A thong bikini!  It will never fit!"

"One way to find out.  Come on little sister, let's go try on the
bikini and the rest of the clothing I found for you." Karen smiled and
rose from her chair.  John followed her into the bedroom.  "What do you
think about pierced ears...."

"I've always like girls that had them," John answered honestly.

"That's good, we'll buy you and Christina some when we go home," Karen
stopped suddenly and kissed John passionately.  "I just know we're
going to have so much fun together..."

In the living room, the Wendy and Chris had been listening intently to
the conversation coming from the dinning room.  They smiled at each
other then turned to watch their program again.

Everything was going to be alright.



The Transvestite



Wanda Johnson, her face expressionless, watched through the crack in
the closet door as Bill, her husband of five years, pulled on a pair of
her panties.

Except for the expected bulge in front, they fit surprisingly well.
She hadn't realized that she and her husband, who was a few inches
taller and twenty pounds heavier, were that close to being the same
size.

She hated to resort to spying on her husband like this, but after years
of wondering had finally hit upon the only way she could confirm that
he was the one who had been going through her dresser drawers.  She had
never expected to discover that he'd been wearing her clothing or that
he appeared so graceful in a dress.

Now that she knew for sure, she felt sick about it.  She grew concerned
that he was some kind of queer or a freak or something even worse,
although she didn't know what it would be.

She debated on how, or even if she should, confront him with her
discovery.  She decided as she watched him fasten one of her bras
around his chest that she wouldn't.  At least not until she'd had an
opportunity to learn more about his strange behavior.

She had to wait in the closet for nearly an hour as Bill tried on
nearly a dozen of her outfits.  Some, like her bright fuchsia capri
tights and black spandex leotard looked so ridiculous on him that she
almost laughed out loud.

Some, like her long ivory colored spaghetti strap satin nightgown and
matching robe, almost made him look like the woman he was obviously
pretending to be.

The illusion was marred only by the small amount of hair on his chest
and legs.  That problem could be corrected easily by shaving and with a
little makeup and a minor restyling of his longish hair, he could look
very creditable as a woman, she decided dispassionatly.

When the alarm clock went off, both she and Bill jumped.  He quickly
turned it off and began to remove Wanda's clothing, carefully replacing
everything the way he'd found it.

It wouldn't be exactly the way she'd left it, Wanda knew.  But that was
because she'd been laying little "booby traps" that would tell her when
someone had been going through her things.

Stark naked, Bill took one last look around and turned off the bedroom
light.  Wanda watched as he disappeared into the bathroom and closed
the door.  She remained in her hiding place until she heard the shower
start.

She let herself out of the house, walked around the block to where she
had hidden her car and drove it back home, all the while thinking about
what she had seen.

By the time she unlocked the front door and entered the house, Bill had
completed his shower and was sitting on the couch in his pajamas and
robe.

"How did the meeting go, Dear?" Bill asked as he saw his wife standing
at the doorway.

"Not bad, considering all Harold wanted to do was an end run with his
one of his screwy proposals," Wanda said, inventing the details of a
meeting that never occurred.  She was fairly safe in her criticism of
her co-worker, he was always trying that.

Bill chuckled.  "He never changes, does he?"

"No," Wanda sighed.  "I must be getting old, the meeting tonight
exhausted me."

"Oh, God.  Don't say that, you're younger than me and I'm only 28.  If
you're old, that makes me even older," Bill laughed.  "Why don't you
take your clothes off and get comfortable.  I'll rub your neck if you'd
like."

"That sounds wonderful," Wanda said.  She kissed Bill lightly on the
cheek.  "Wait right here, I'll be back in a flash."

It was a little longer than a "flash' before Wanda returned.  She
walked gracefully into the room wearing the ivory nightgown, matching
robe and a pair of high heeled marabou slides.  Almost the exact same
outfit Wanda had watched her husband wear.  The only difference was
that Wanda's "padding" was real, allowing her to be nude under the gown
and she had been wearing the marabou slides.  Bill had worn a padded
panty girdle, a well stuffed bra and no shoes, Wanda's wouldn't fit.

Wanda watched Bill carefully for any signs of a reaction to the gown
and robe she was wearing.  She was almost disappointed when all he did
was smile and hold out his arms for her.

"I've always liked that gown and robe on you," Bill murmured in to her
ear as he pulled her close.  Wanda could feel herself responding to the
warmth of his breath in her tiny ear.  She stroked his freshly shaven
cheek, and breathed deeply.

"And I love that after shave lotion," she whispered.

"Take off the robe," Bill commanded softly.

"Why sir!  What would you have with me?" Wanda mimicked a line from an
old movie she had once seen.

"I kind of thought that we would start with a good neck rub, and see
where it goes from there," Bill smiled.  The front of his pajama
bottoms left no doubt of where it would end.

"Sounds -- relaxing," Wanda whispered hoarsely as Bill nuzzled her ear
again.

"Oh, I hope not, at least not at first," he laughed.  Wanda stretched
out on the couch, her breast nestled between her husband's legs.  She
felt the fingers of one of Bill's strong hands dig gently into the
muscles of her neck.  His other hand gently stroked her back through
the nightgown.  "I sure like you in this nightgown," he sighed.

An hour later, the satin gown lay forgotten on the floor next to their
king sized bed.  It would stay in a crumpled pile until the following
morning.

                                 -0-0-0-

Bill had already gone to work by the time Wanda got out of bed and
slipped the gown and robe back on.  She was on her off week day.  She
had a whole three days before she had to go back to work again.  It was
on days like this that she loved the flexible schedule she worked.
Four ten hour days were worth the long weekends and after last night
she needed the time to rest up.

She wandered down to the kitchen and turned on the coffee Bill had left
for her.  Wanda sat down and stared out the kitchen window, not even
wanting to think until she'd had at least one cup of coffee in her.

Wanda ran her hand along her thigh, feeling the soft fabric of the
satin gown slipping under her touch.  She couldn't blame Bill for
liking the gown, it would be difficult not to.  She had known of
course, that he had worn it less than an hour before she had, which is
why she had worn it herself.

She didn't know what kind of reaction she had been expecting.  But
whatever it had been, it wasn't quite like the passionate mood Bill had
obviously been in.

He had been TIB, terrific in bed, and she had reached orgasm so many
times that she was too tired to even get out of bed to clean herself
up.  It was nights like last night, that she didn't even mind sleeping
on the wet spot!

Wanda poured herself a cup of warmed over coffee and stared into the
dark liquid for a moment, reflecting on the other times Bill had shown
such passion and wondering why he felt the need to wear her clothing.

She nearly dropped her coffee cup when she realized that in almost
every case, when she dressed in the mornings following Bill's "super
passion nights", her clothing, in both her dresser and closet, had been
disturbed.  She realized that there was another common factor, on those
nights she had been away from the home.

"Son of a bitch!" she swore softly to herself.  "He was wearing my
clothes then too!"

Astonished by the revelation, Wanda began to search her memory for the
times when they'd had sex after she'd been home all day.  The sex had
been good, but nothing like the times she suspected he'd been wearing
her clothing earlier.

A strange thought crossed her mind.  If his passion had been this
strong after wearing women's clothing hours earlier, then what would it
be like if he went to bed wearing one of her nightgowns, say the one
she was wearing right now?

There was only one way to find out, she decided.  But she had to be
subtle about getting him into one of her gowns.  It had to be a logical
solution to a problem, rather than her just asking him to start wearing
her clothing.

Something like not having anything else to wear but her clothing.  It
couldn't be anything as obviously contrived as saying that all his
clothing was in the wash.  Bill would see though that in an instant.

No, it had to be something like losing his luggage on a trip.  A trip
to some quiet out of the way place that Bill could wear her things all
day if need be, and not be embarrassed about it.

It might also be a good time to discuss his strange little habit of
his.  Wanda picked up the paper and began to scan the ads for vacation
rentals.

                                 -0-0-0-

"Honey I know that you said you wanted to get away from it all for a
week or two, but did you have to pick some place so far away from
anywhere?" Bill asked as he followed the state highway along the coast.
"I don't particularly want to spend my only vacation in some shack out
in the middle of nowhere."

"The Realtor I talked to on the phone said that the cabin was really
quite comfortable and very modern.  It's located about five miles down
the coast from the Village and about three hours from Weaverville.  It
will be just perfect for our get away," Wanda said smiling to herself.
"Just think, a whole week with nothing more serious to do than to lay
out on the beach and get wonderful tans."

"We are on the right road aren't we?" Bill asked, ignoring his wife's
itinerary.

"Honey, you know my navigation has rarely been wrong.  Now quit
worrying, everything will be fine," Wanda reassured her husband.  The
car crested a small hill.  "Look there it is!"

Bill looked where his wife had been pointing.  The rental "cabin",
turned out to be an old fashioned looking two story house, with a
glassed in porch that ran around three quarters of the structure.  In
spite of themselves, both Wanda and Bill grew more and more impressed
as Bill drove closer to the "cabin".

                                 -0-0-0-

"Just look at this place!" Bill exclaimed as he looked around the
living room.  Two large plate glass windows over looked the ocean on
one wall.  Located on another wall was a huge fireplace made out of
natural stone.  It looked well used.  "It's better than I thought.  I'm
sorry I mistrusted your judgment, honey."

"That's alright, lover.  Why don't you unpack the car while I make the
bed and prepare us some dinner."

"Sounds good to me," Bill agreed heading back toward the car.

                                 -0-0-0-

"We have to go back," Bill said ten minutes later.

Wanda looked up from the blanket she was spreading on the bed.  Bill
was carrying her two suitcases, the only ones she'd packed.  "What
for?" she asked.

"I know you packed a suitcase for me, but I didn't see it in the car.
I must have left it in the garage.  I don't have any clothing other
than what I'm wearing," Bill said setting Wanda's heavy suitcases on
the floor.

"Oh, no Bill, you didn't," Wanda said, sounding disappointed.  Inwardly
she was laughing.  Boy, are you in for a treat, she thought.

"Yeah, sure looks like it," Bill said.  "Looks like we've got to go
back."

"Bill be realistic, it was a nine hour drive to get here.  If we go
home, we'll be too tired to drive back tonight."

Bill nodded in agreement.  "Well, we could stay here tonight and go
back tomorrow," he said slowly.  "We'd only lose a day or two of our
vacation.  We can call the Realtor and cancel the rest of the week."

"Bill Johnson!  That's the dumbest idea I've ever heard you come up
with.  There is no way that I'd be willingly give up two whole days of
our vacation!  Besides, we wouldn't get a refund if we canceled out
now."

"Well, I certainly can't run around naked and even you'd get tired of
washing my clothes every day."

Wanda sat down on the newly made bed and appeared to be in deep
thought.  In reality she was struggling hard to keep from laughing,
this was going exactly as she had planned.

She waited another second before she looked up at her husband, a
thoughtful expression on her face.  "Of course, there is another
solution to the problem you haven't considered yet."

"Oh, and what's that?  Wear your things?" Bill asked sarcastically.

"Well, why not?  I've packed enough for both of us." Wanda said
allowing herself to smile faintly.

Bill's reaction was interesting to watch.  She could tell that the idea
appealed to him and he wanted to do it, but there was also a battle
going on inside of him, obviously not wanting to expose his secret.
She decided to push it a little in her favor.

"Honey, I really don't care if you wear some of my clothes.  I really
did pack more than I'll ever possibly need."

"But what if someone saw me?  I'd never be able to live it down,"
Bill's tone clearly said that he needed a little more convincing.

"Who would see you?  We're miles from the nearest house and besides,
even if someone did see you they probably wouldn't even care."

"Well, if you're sure you don't mind?" Bill asked a little too
reluctantly.  Wanda's heart skipped a beat, he was going to do it!

"Honey, since I know you like my ivory nightie, I wouldn't even mind if
you wanted to wear it yourself.  In fact, it might be your only chance
to ever discover that it feels even nicer to wear than to look at."

Wanda was amused by the emotions that flashed across her husband's
face.  She suddenly felt closer to him than she had at any other time
since she first met him.  She also realized that it was time to back
off slightly, too much encouragement would be as bad as too little.

"But what do you say we get settled in before we do anything else,"
Wanda suggested.  She smiled, "Why don't you build a fire while I fix
dinner."

"Okay, anything else you want me to do?"

"Uh, yeah, see if there's a bear skin rug somewhere.  I've always
wanted to make love on one in front of a fire." Bill laughed as Wanda
leered at him.

                                 -0-0-0-

"Let's leave the dishes until tomorrow, honey," Wanda said.  They were
sitting on a thick oriental style throw rug before the fireplace, their
dinner dishes resting on the coffee table behind them.

The only light in the room was the warm glow from the fire Bill had
built.  Wanda was warm, cozy and very romantic and she didn't want to
spoil the mood by the mundane task of washing the dishes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't find a bear skin rug for you, dear," Bill laughed
softly.

"That's alright honey, the blanket will do quite nicely."

They sat side by side in each other's arms, watching the fire in
silence for a minute.

Wanda decided that now was as good a time as any to try out her theory.
She turned to Bill and kissed him hungrily for a few seconds.  "Why
don't we slip into something more comfortable, and get down to some
serious business," she suggested.

"Sounds like a wonderful idea," Bill whispered.  He followed Wanda as
she rose and walked upstairs to the bedroom.  Her hips swayed
seductively as they climbed the stairs together.

Wanda removed her clothes, and slipped a waltz length gown over her
head.  After she had adjusted it she noticed that Bill had removed only
his shirt.  He was standing awkwardly just looking at Wanda's body
silhouette through the thin cotton gown.

"Something wrong?  I put your gown on the bed, hurry up and put it on,
I want to get back to the fire," Wanda said.

"Uh, I'm not sure that I should be doing this," Bill said nervously.
Wanda grew concerned that he would suddenly back out of being the
unknowing subject of her little experiment.

"I don't see why not.  There's just the two of us and wearing one of my
nightgowns is not going to turn you into a woman," Wanda smiled to
soften her comment.  "Please honey, before the fire dies down."

Bill picked up the ivory colored gown and looked helplessly at his wife
torn between the desire to rip his clothing off and put on the gown and
not wanting to give the impression that was exactly what he wanted.

Wanda realized that she would have to be a little pro-active if she
ever wanted him to wear the gown.  She moved to him, gently took the
gown from his unresisting hands and dropped it back on the bed.

"Let me help you," she murmured.  She pulled Bill's T-shirt over his
head and picked up the gown again.  Smiling as seductively as she knew
how, she gathered the gown up and motioned Bill to raise his arms.
Bill silently held his arms out as Wanda slipped the straps of the gown
on.  He bent his head slightly as she slipped the gown around his
shoulders, then let go.  The nightgown fell to nearly the floor,
covering the pair of pants he was still wearing.

Wanda seemed to notice for the first time that he was still wearing his
pants underneath the long gown.  She slowly bunched the gown up above
his waist and told him to hold it.

Ignoring his shaking hands as Bill gripped the skirt of the gown, Wanda
unbuttoned and zipped down his pants.  A second later, she had pulled
them down to his knees.  Bill stepped out of them and remained
motionless as Wanda turned her attention to his undershorts.  It was
obvious to both of them that he had become excited, very exited.

Wanda slid the flat of her hands between Bill's undershorts and his
hips.  She pulled straight down, knowing that his erect penis would
catch in the shorts.

"Well now, what do we have here?" she smiled when the shorts were
stopped in their downward movement.  She pulled the waistband out and
reached in with her hand, feeling the hard erection.  She began to
gently caress it.  With her other hand she eased the shorts down.  Bill
stepped out of them and stood shivering.

"Wanda, please," he half pleaded.

Wanda removed her hand from his stiff penis, placed her hands behind
Bill's neck, pulling him closer and kissing him deeply.  Bill suddenly
became aware that he was still holding the skirt of the gown above his
waist.  He abruptly let go, allowing the gown to slide to the floor as
he pulled his wife tightly against him.  Wanda moved her hands to
Bill's rear gently rubbing the soft satin robe against his body.

"Hummm," Wanda murmured between kisses.  "Shall we go back down stairs,
or see what develops right here?'

Bill answered by picking Wanda up and gently setting her on the bed.
She had her answer, to both of her questions.

                                 -0-0-0-

"You knew, didn't you," Bill said softly the next morning.

Wanda cuddled a little a little closer to her husband, and nodded.

"I know darling.  I discovered your secret two months ago," she sighed.
"At first, I didn't know what to do.  I even debated asking for a
divorce." Bill stiffened slightly at the word "divorce", he truly and
deeply loved his wife.

Wanda smiled and gave Bill a reassuring hug.  "Don't worry, I don't
want to leave the man I love more than life itself.  But I did give it
a lot of thought, finally I decided that even if you wanted to go all
the way, I would stand beside you."

"All the way?"

"Have a sex change and become a woman, darling," Wanda said softly.
Bill stiffened again, Wanda obviously didn't understand him that well.

"Wanda Darling, I'm a crossdresser, not a transsexual.  I like to
occasionally dress like a woman, but I have no desire to become one."

"I'm glad."

"Although, I wouldn't mind having a nice set of boobs and a big rump
like your's." Wanda punched him in the arm.  "Ouch!  I was just teasing
dear."

"I know honey.  But it's interesting that you brought up the subject
up."

"What?  Wanting to have breasts?"

"I have a little surprise for you darling, in fact two little
surprises," Wanda said pulling the covers back and sliding out of the
bed.  Bill watched his wife as she pulled her nightgown off.  Bill
admired her naked body for a minute, not paying attention to what she
was saying.  She was the sexiest woman he'd ever known.

"Bill Have you been listening to me?"

"What?  No, I'm sorry honey.  What did you say?"

"I said, it's time to get dressed.  Come on and get into the shower
with me."

Bill grinned and got out of the bed.  When he had reached Wanda he
hugged her and gave her a big kiss.  She gently pushed him away.
"Bill, let's get going, we've got a lot to do."

Bill followed his wife into the bathroom after reluctantly removing his
soft nightgown.  Wanda was waiting for him, a pink bottle in one hand
and a razor in the other.

"Which way to you want to go?  Using a razor or some dipilatory?" she
had held each object up in turn as she spoke.

"Uh, for what?" Bill asked a little nervously.

"Bill, I told you that I've been thinking about this for a long time.
I've decided that I will give you my fullest support, the least you can
do is try to look the part.  I want you to remove all of your body
hair, except for what's on your head and a little patch between your
legs.  Now which will it be, razor or hair remover."

Bill could scarcely believe what his wife was telling him, she actually
wanted him to shave his legs!  It had been something he'd secretly
wanted to do since he had first noticed that girl's legs were different
than boys.

"Uh, how about the hair remover?"

Wanda smiled, "Somehow I knew you would say that.  Okay, come over here
and we'll get started."

Bill stood motionless as Wanda carefully and thoroughly covered his
body with the pungent smelling lotion.  When she finally finished she
inspected her work and smiled.

"Now what?" Bill asked.

"Now we wait for ten minutes or so, then its into the shower and
goodbye hairy legs." Wanda said as she washed the remainder of the
lotion off of her hands.

Bill glanced down at his body, Wanda had even put some of the pink
lotion on his chest, not that he had much hair there to begin with.
After awhile the lotion began to dry and sting a little.

"Are you sure you want me to go through with this?" Bill asked
doubtfully.

Wanda glanced at the clock.  "If I didn't its too late now.  Time to
hop into the shower, honey and meet your new self."

Bill got into the shower and adjusted the warm spray to flow against
his chest.  He watched in amazement as the hair was rinsed away with
the residue of the lotion.  As he watched he was suddenly startled by
the feel of a wash cloth against the back of his legs.  Looking over
his shoulder, he saw Wanda busily washing him off.

"What are you doing?"

"Just speeding up the process a little.  Not that it needs it,
everything seems to be working quite well." Wanda said as she worked
her way around to Bill front.  Within a few minutes, she had finished
and his body was nearly free from any hair.

Wanda ran her hands along Bill's sleek smooth legs as she rose from her
squatting position.  "Did anyone ever tell you that you have good
looking legs?"

"For a man you mean?" Bill smiled.

"No silly, for a girl.  Your legs are too shapely for a man's," Wanda
smiled back.  Bill shook his head.  "Well you do.  You have legs that a
lot of women would love to have."

"They're not as good looking as your's," Bill said honestly.

"True, but that's only because they're so white.  A good tan and
they'll look even sexier than mine!"

Wanda looked serious for a moment.  "You know, Bill?  I think I'm going
to really enjoy our vacation with you being my little 'sister'."

"Your little sister?" Bill asked startled, he'd been planning something
a little more intimate than that.

A gleam came into Wanda's eyes, "At least part of the time Honey," she
grinned and reached for his groin.  Her touch had the expected result,
already half erect, Bill's penis sprang to life.

"Oh, dear.  This huge clitoris of my little sister is going to be a
problem isn't it?" Wanda grinned as she reached for the bar of soap.
"But I know how to take care of this little problem."

Wanda had to masturbate him three times before his penis finally
shriveled down to its normal size.  She washed him carefully, then
quickly washed her own body.

"I'm going to get out," Wanda pulled the shower curtain back.  "I want
you to stay in a little longer and shave." "Shave?" Bill looked at his
denuded body.  "Shave what?  That stuff didn't leave anything to
shave."

"Your face dear, you need to shave your face." Wanda laughed, handing
him the razor.  Bill had the decency to blush, he had forgotten all
about his whiskers.

                                 -0-0-0-

"That was a nice surprise Honey," Bill said, running a towel along the
side of his smooth leg.

"Thank you, but that wasn't the surprise," Wanda said smiling broadly.
"They're in the bedroom.  As soon as you're dried off, I'll show them
to you."

Wanda had dressed by the time Bill had returned to the bedroom.  Laying
on the bed were the clothes Wanda had selected for him, a pair of
shorts and a tank top.  Clothing and something else.

"What are those?" Bill asked pointing at two obvious mounds under the
shorts.

"Those?" Wanda asked innocently.  "Why those are something that you
said you've always wanted, your very own set of boobs."

Wanda whipped back the tank top.  Bill's mouth dropped open when he saw
what had been hidden under the top.  Two realistic looking breasts,
complete with large nipples seemed to stare back at him.

"Like them?  I had to order them from a surgical supply company.  The
ad said that they were the most life like prosthesis on the market
today."

Bill pick one up, feeling the texture of the soft fabric covering and
the surprisingly heavy weight.

"Since you and I can wear the same bra size, I bought them in my cup
size.  Now darling, when you wear them you will feel the exact same as
I do." Wanda grinned.  "Best of all, they're waterproof and we can go
swimming in the ocean together."

"Swimming?" Bill asked tearing himself away from the breast he was
holding in his hand.

"Of course, Dear.  That was why we came here, to lay in the sun and go
swimming." Wanda smiled.  "Just wait until you see your swim suit, its
a black nylon and spandex tank, with high cut legs that make them look
like they're longer and..."

"But I can't wear one of your bathing suits," Bill protested.

"And why not?"

"Well for one thing, I really don't have the shape for it."

"No kidding.  But darling so what if you can't wear your hip pads, no
one is around to see you anyway."

"Hip pads?"

"The second part of your surprise, I made some hip pads to uh, fill
your skirts and pants out a little.  In fact, I made several pair, they
were easy once I got the hang of it.  I just sandwiched some foam
rubber between two pair of bike shorts and sewed them up so the padding
wouldn't slip.  Want to see?"

Bill could only nod numbly.  Wanda reached into her suitcase and
withdrew two beige garments that looked a little like bulky bike shorts
or a long legged panty girdle.  There was a third garment which looked
like a control panty brief.

Wanda handed him the short legged garment.  "You should wear this one
today.  I picked out shorts that don't have a very long inseam.  When
you're wearing a skirt or longer shorts, you should wear one of the
others."

Bill nodded and started to pull the well padded garment on.  Wanda
stopped him.  "You forgot something," she said handing him a pair of
panties.  Bill grinned and pulled them up to his waist.

Wanda smiled as she watched her husband pull on the padded hips and
adjust his breast prosthesis in the cups of his bra.  He looked like a
girl even without any make up on.

Later, just before they would go for a walk on the beach, she would put
a little mascara and some lipstick on him.  Then she would present him
with the third surprise, several pair of women's shoes in his size.

Her darling sissy husband would never again have to walk barefoot in
his dresses again.  Unless he wanted to that is.

                                 -0-0-0-

"I can't believe that this week went by so fast Billie," Wanda sighed.

It was the sixth day they had spent at the beach.  They would have to
leave the vacation rental the following morning.  From the beginning of
the second day, Bill never removed his girl's clothing, except for when
they made love that is.  Wanda was very pleased with her plan to let
her husband out of the closet.  The extra stimulation of wearing her
clothing, especially her soft sexy panties and nightgowns, had made
Bill perform like he was a super stud.

She had loved every second of the vacation, and best of all she had
never seen Bill look so rested.  When he was wearing her clothing, it
was almost as though he had really been another person -- Billie he had
called himself.

"And I can't believe that you talked me into getting a tan like this,"
Bill sighed.

The week had been a lot of fun and a tremendous turn on for him.  Now
that the cold reality of having to return home was finally sinking in,
he almost was beginning regret some of the things he'd done.

His dark tan lines were in the shape of a very skimpy woman's bikini
bathing suit.  It looked terrific when he had been wearing the suit, or
revealing clothing, but now standing in the nude, he looked as though
he was still wearing the bikini.  Between the combination of the tan
and his hairless legs, it would be a long time before he would be able
to remove his shirt or pants in public.

"You know what I've been thinking?" Wanda asked as she slipped her
nightgown over her head.

"No, what?" Bill said.  He had already put his nightgown on and was
waiting for Wanda to come to bed.

"Why don't you stay like that until we get home," Wanda suggested.

"What?  No way!" Bill protested.

"Why not?  We'll be in the car for most of the trip, we don't even have
to get out of the car to eat, we can go through a drive through
somewhere."

"What about if I have to go to the bathroom?" Bill asked, becoming
interested in extending Billie for another day.

"You do what I do, use the ladies room -- and don't forget to sit!"
Wanda laughed.

"Okay, I'll do it.  But you'll have to drive, I can't risk being
stopped.  My driver's license doesn't quite match the way I look
remember."

"Good!  Now that its settled, come here and make love to me," Wanda
said coyly.

                                -0-0-0-

"Do you have everything in the car?" Wanda asked Bill as she finished
up the breakfast dishes.

"Think so, I'll take another look around the house just to make sure,"
Bill replied.  He turned and walked through the dining room into the
living room.  Wanda turned and watched him, marveling at how good he
looked in a sundress with thin shoulder straps, pantyhose and high
heels.

It was the first time either of them had worn anything more than shorts
and tank tops or a swim suit.  Even the bra he had to wear was new to
him.  When Wanda had given him the strapless bra to wear, Bill was
dubious about the ability of the bra to support his heavy ersatz
breasts without shoulder straps.  It took several minutes of him
walking around to be convinced.

Bill had quickly gotten the hang of wearing his high heels even though
his experience had been limited.  Of course, the two hour practice
sessions every night as he wore the high heeled marabou slides helped
considerably.

Wanda was pleased about how the week had turned out.  Both she and Bill
had learned something about themselves and each other.  She loved her
husband, there could never be any question about that.

But she liked him as a woman a little more.  When he put on his panties
and bra in the morning and slipped into the feminine persona of Billie,
the subtle underlying tension that always seemed to be present when he
was Bill, seemed to disappear.  It was only when he was Billie that
they could be friends as well as husband and wife.

                                -0-0-0-

Bill walked though the dinning room into the living room.  He stopped
for a second to look at the fireplace and remembered that first night
when Wanda had suggested that he wear her clothing.  It had been a
terrifying moment especially when she had suggested that he wear her
sexiest nightgown.  He had suspected at that point that she was aware
that he liked to wear women's clothing, but the thought of being
actually confronted with it had almost made him sick.

Now, he chuckled to himself, it will be depressing to take the clothing
off, especially the pantyhose and high heels.  He spun around allowing
the skirt of his sundress to flair outward, unaware that Wanda could
see him through the open doorways to the kitchen.

Wanda smiled when she saw the very feminine move.  She dreaded the
moment when he'd start wearing his male clothing full time again.  He
was a much nicer person to be around when he was dressed as Billie.
Having him full time as Bill, never to see Billie again except for
perhaps holidays and vacations, was almost like the death of a dear and
highly valued friend.

She wondered if she dared trying to talk him into being Billie full
time.  She'd read about men who lived full time as women, fooling
everyone who knew them, transgender she thought it was called, to know
that it was possible.

If he would agree to it, they could find him a doctor that would give
him female hormones so that he could grow his own breasts and not have
to worry about his prosthesis slipping out at a most embarrassing time.

                                -0-0-0-

When Bill spun around, he ended up facing away from the fireplace and
towards the couch.  It was a good thing he had turned around, otherwise
he would have missed seeing Wanda's purse sitting on the arm of the
couch and leave it behind.  Since she would be driving, it might prove
to be embarrassing if they were stopped and he was the only one with a
driver's license.

Bill took a step toward the couch.  As he stepped down, one of his high
heels landed on the very edge of the thick Oriental rug.  His foot
slipped a fraction of an inch.  Unprepared for the abrupt movement,
Bill pitch forward and knocked Wanda's purse to the floor, scattering
its contents.

Bill picked himself up, and checked his pantyhose for runs.  Satisfied
that they had escaped unharmed, he returned his attention to Wanda's
purse.  Sighing, Bill got down on his hands and knees and began picking
up the contents of the purse.

Thinking that he'd found everything, he started to rise, then noticed a
gold tube of lipstick he'd missed laying just under the front of the
couch.  He reached for the tube and accidently knocked it further under
the couch.  Bill reached under the couch and felt around with his hand.

"Got it!" he said to himself when his fingers touched a cool
cylindrical object.  He pulled it out and was disappointed to find that
what he had thought was the fugitive lipstick tube, was actually a
crystal about the same size and shape.  Wrapped around one end of the
crystal was what appeared to be gold wiring.  A small loop of the same
material stuck out from the end of the crystal.  It was obviously
worthless, otherwise the rightful owner wouldn't have left without it.

"Bill, I'm ready to go," Wanda called, interrupting his inspection of
the crystal.  He tossed it onto the cushion of the couch and stood up.

"I'll be right there honey," Bill said brushing off the skirt of his
sundress.  He took a moment to take one last look around then followed
Wanda out the door.

                                -0-0-0-

They had been on the road for over an hour before Wanda brought up her
suggestion that Bill remain Billie after they returned home.

"But what about my job?  I couldn't just walk in wearing a skirt and
blouse and suddenly announce that I was going to live as a woman," Bill
protested.

"No, maybe not.  But why would you want to go back to work?  I make
enough to support us both if we're careful.  Besides, until your
breasts grow out, you might want to stay home anyway."

"My breasts grow out?" Bill asked incredulously.  "Are you suggesting
that I take female hormones?"

"Sure, why not.  Look, honey, when I found out your little secret, I
read every book that I could find in the library on the subject of
cross dressers, transsexuals and transgenderests.  Amazing subjects.
You could live the life of a woman, and still be a man, breasts and
all."

Bill shook his head, "I...  I'm not sure that I'm ready for something
like that."

"Honey, you'd be a natural.  With a little more work, some voice
lessons and maybe a little electrolysis, you would make a very
attractive girl.  Why don't you just think about it until we get home,
okay?"

"It might be kind of fun...  But, I don't know," Bill said doubtfully.
"Alright, I'll think about it." Bill yawned and closed his eyes, "Right
after I take a little nap."

Wanda drove on for another twenty miles before she glanced over to
check on Bill.  The honking of a another car brought her attention back
to the task of driving the car just long enough to put her foot on the
brakes and pull on to the shoulder of the road.

Wanda checked to make sure she was well off the road and turned off the
engine.  When she had completed this, she twisted in her seat and
frankly stared at her husband.

Bill was either still sleeping or unconscious, she couldn't tell which.
That bothered her, but not as much as what was happening to Bill.

He was shrinking before her very eyes!

Oblivious to the traffic racing on the road behind her, Wanda
hesitantly touched Bill's arm.  His skin felt as thought it was alive
under her finger tips.  She swallowed hard and shook him.  He didn't
respond to her touch.

Wanda's attention was drawn to his chest.  His prominent but false
breasts seemed to be expanding at an alarming rate.  It was almost as
if he had inserted balloons in the cups of his bra and was blowing them
up.

Wanda slipped the shoulder straps of the sundress off of Bill's
shoulders.  There was far less resistance than she had expected, of
course, the dress now appeared to be several sizes too large now.
Fearful of what she might find under the front of the dress, Wanda
slowly pulled it down over the strapless bra.  The breast prophesies
seemed as though they were being pushed away from his chest by
something underneath them.  Wanda's hands shook as she pulled first one
then the other breast form free from the cups of the bra.  She expected
to see the cups collapse when the breast forms were removed.  They did,
but not very much.  Wanda pulled the bra down and was stunned to see
two very real breasts slowly expanding on Bill's chest.  She cupped one
in her hand, feeling its warmth and shape.  Pressing it gently, as
though she was doing a self examination of her own breast, Wanda
explored every inch of the soft mound.

It was a real breast, complete with large plump nipples and the network
of glands that would someday produce just the right amount of milk for
a baby.  Milk for a baby?  Wanda jerked her hand away from the warm
flesh as though it had been a hot coal.

She pulled the skirt of the sundress up to Bill's waist.  She couldn't
see much change, if anything his hips seemed a little smaller even
under the padding.  Steeling herself for what she knew she would find,
Wanda placed her finger tips on the crotch of the padded hips and
pushed inward.

Her fingers were met with a resistance, but not the one she expected.
She pushed a little harder against the soft fabric of the bike shorts.
Even through two layers of the shorts, a pair of panties and pantyhose,
she could feel a depression where one shouldn't have existed.

She leaned back and watched Bill's body continue its metamorphosis for
a few minutes longer.  Yes, he was definitely going to be smaller, much
smaller.  Wanda pulled the skirt of the dress down and adjusted the now
too large bra.  Pulling the shoulder straps back over his shoulders
required virtually no effort.

Satisfied that her husband -- or whatever it was that he was changing
into -- was decent again, Wanda sat back in her seat and waited for
Billie to wake up.

They would have a lot to talk about.

Renting the cabin had been his publisher's idea.

Personally, William "Bill" Howard, author of seventeen best selling
novels and countless short stories, hated the ocean, the cold damp air
and the solitude of the beach in late August.  But most of all he hated
the fact that he had been ordered, actually ordered to stay at the
beach cabin until he finished the final 10 chapters of his book!

He kept running the conversation through his mind, wondering where he
could have flat refused to go to this God forsaken hole.

"Bill," his publisher had said, "you haven't written a word in nearly
six weeks."

Bill, who was starting to feel his seventy plus years stroked his
neatly trimmed gray beard and shook his head.  "I'm sorry Jim.  The
words just don't seem to come as easy as they used to."

"If you would give up a couple of your girl friends, they might!"

"Now wait a minute, first of all, I don't have a couple of girl
friends, I only have one."

"And she's young enough to be my daughter," Jim said.  The smile on his
face lacked any sign of humor.

"Hey, she's not that young, she's almost 25, and..."

"And she's wearing you out."

Bill sighed, knowing that Jim was right, but not for the reason that he
suspected.  The "girl friend" was actually a therapist that came over
every few days to help him with his exercises.  "Okay, okay!  I'll ask
her not to come over for a few days."

"I've got a better idea," Jim said handing Bill a small brown envelope.

"What's this?"

"A map and a set of keys to a nice little get away spot that you're
going to stay at until you've written at least 10 chapters of your
book."

"Ten chapters?" Bill asked startled.  "Why that's nearly a quarter of a
million words and will finish the book!"

"Bill, I can remember when you could whip that amount out in two
weeks..."

"Yeah, well, at my age, everything is a little slower."

"Then I'll make arrangements to extend the rent to a total of two
months, rather than one."

"But what about...?"

"Bill, you're going, and that's all there is to it!"

"What if I gave my advance back and told you to go to Hell?"

"Do you still have it?"

Bill shook his head and sighed in defeat.  "You know I don't."

Jim sat back in his chair and smiled.  "There's a car and driver
waiting for you down stairs.  You can leave directly from here."

"What about the things I'll need?"

"Everything you'll need is already at the cabin, even your favorite
word processor, plenty of disks, about ten reams of paper, food and
clothing.  All that's lacking to make it perfect is you."

"Awfully damned sure of yourself aren't you?" Bill didn't wait for a
reply as he stood up and walked to the door.

Jim stared at the closed door for a moment, glad that it was over.  He
picked up his half filled coffee cup and saluted the door.  "No, Bill,
I'm not sure of myself, but I do know you.  If I didn't force you to do
this we'd never get the book out of you."

                                 0-0-0-

Bill Howard watched the chauffeur driven car drive away before going
into what Jim had loosely described as a "cabin on the beach."

The two story, turn of the century style ranch house, was deceptive
from the outside.  Its graying and weather beaten siding made it look
far older than its actual age of slightly less than ten years.

Clues to its true age could be seen on the outside if you looked close
enough.  All the windows, including those in the glassed in porch that
went around three sides of the building, were energy conserving double
panes.  On the roof, discreetly hidden behind ornate wooden lattices,
were solar water heaters.

It was more than a beach front cabin he realized when he finally went
inside.  The weathered siding of the house concealed the fact that
inside it was almost as nice as his own high rise apartment.  Almost.

Bill was tired, tired of traveling, tired of writing, tired of the old
age that had slowly crepted up on him, but most of all, he was tired of
the dull ache that was a constant reminder of the arthritis that had
almost sapped his will to live.

He started to move slowly through the house, just seeing where
everything was.  He was pleased to see that they had set up his word
processor on the dining room table, close to the kitchen, the
downstairs bathroom and the living room where the large fire place was.
He entered the dining room, bent over the word processor and hesitated.
Had he actually heard a faint noise coming from the kitchen?  A noise
that sounded almost as though someone was humming?

He cautiously walked to the closed door leading into the kitchen and
opened it a crack.  Peering through the crack, he saw a young woman,
maybe eighteen years old, putting groceries away in the cupboards.  The
girl was an attractive brunette with a nice figure, wearing blue jeans,
a white t-shirt, white tennis shoes without socks.  She wore no jewelry
other than a thin gold chain around one wrist and a black sports style
watch on the other.

Bill opened the door a little more and gave a small cough.  The girl
spun around and nearly dropped the can of peaches she was holding.

"Mr.  Howard?" she asked staring at the gray haired old man's
impressive full beard.  Bill nodded, keeping his face expressionless.
"I wasn't expecting you for another two hours."

"Who are you?" Bill asked.

"My name's Corrie Malone, my dad's the Realtor that rents the house out
for the Johnson's," the young girl stepped closer and held out her
hand.  Bill shook it briefly then dropped his hand to his side.  "I was
just putting things away."

"So I see.  I didn't notice a car outside, is someone going to pick you
up later?"

"No, I've got my dirt bike out back.  But, I..." Corrie hesitated, it
was obvious to her that Mr.  Howard wasn't aware of the arrangements.
"Mr.  Howard, you are aware that the rental included a housekeeper?"

"A housekeeper?" Bill shook his head and waited for the young woman to
continue.

"Not a full time housekeeper, of course.  Just from 10:00 AM till after
dinner."

"I see and you're my housekeeper?  Kind of young aren't you?"

"When my Dad got the call and I found out who would be living here, I
asked if I could have the job.  Believe it or not, I am a pretty good
housekeeper."

"I see.  Why did you want to work for me?" Bill asked half suspecting
the answer.

"Well, I've read most of your books and..."

"What did you think of them?" Bill asked interrupting the young woman.
"Your honest opinion please."

Corrie hesitated then shrugged her slender shoulders.  "They were okay,
good plots and characterization.  But, I think that they lack
something.  I -- I'm not sure that I know how to define it, a warmth
maybe."

Bill smiled to himself.  "A 'warmth'?  They're murder mysteries, not
romance novels." "I know Mr.  Howard, but still...."

"Call me Bill."

"I know Bill, it's just that your main character, Detective Peters
always has a girl friend, yet there never seems to be a real
relationship between them.  No real love."

"No real love?" Bill snorted.  There was always at least three bedroom
scenes in each of his novels.  He was about to remind Corrie of this
fact when he realized that she wasn't talking about raw sex.  "You're
probably right, Corrie.  Maybe that's why my wife left me, I wasn't
romantic enough."

"I'm sorry Bill, that must have been rough," Corrie said sincerely.

"Don't be.  She left me nearly forty years ago," Bill smiled sadly.
"Most of the pain has long since gone."

Bill looked out of the kitchen window for a few seconds remembering
Susan.  Maybe it was best that she left when she had.

"Mr.  Howard?  Bill?  It's nearly noon, would you like some lunch?"
Corrie's question brought Bill back to the present.  "Soup and a
sandwich okay?"

"That would be fine.  While you're fixing lunch, I'll just explore the
house a little."

                                 -0-0-0-

Bill wandered around the house, wondering who the original owners had
been and why they had decided to rent the place out.  The only thing
that really impressed him was the huge stone fire place.  Its fire box
was large enough to burn small trees.  Even a small fire would heat the
entire house if it had to.

He climbed the stairs to the second floor slowly, he was after all old,
and the damp ocean air made him feel even older.  Later he would build
a fire and try to take the chill out of the house and his bones,
although that would be a first.

In spite of his distaste for the ocean and the dull aches and pain the
cold damp air brought on, he was impressed with the view from the
second floor master bedroom.  Two large French doors faced the sea and
opened out to a balcony that made up the roof of the glassed in porch.
He opened one of the doors and stepped out onto the balcony, and looked
down at the deserted beach.

He started to think about how he could incorporate the loneliness of
the house and beach into the plot of his book.  Perhaps if Detective
Peters were to...

"Bill?  Lunch is ready," Corrie's voice came from the stairway,
interrupting his thoughts.

Sighing, Bill returned inside and walked stiffly down the stairs.
Going down was almost as bad as going up.  He could have had Corrie
make up a bed in one of the downstairs rooms, but had decided not to.
The view from the master bedroom was too spectacular not to take the
effort to climb the stairs.

                                -0-0-0-

"This is delicious," Bill exclaimed as he tasted the soup, a thick
cream of brocoli.  Corrie looked pleased.

"It's from a recipe book my grandmother left me.  It's my favorite."

"And as I said, it's delicious!  You've done a much maligned vegetable
incredible justice," Bill noticed that Corrie was standing by the sink
watching him eat.  "Corrie, aren't you going to eat too?"

She shook her head, "No, I'll eat later.  After you're done."

"Being the good little servant girl, huh?  Nonsense little lady, grab
yourself a bowl and sit down!  I hate to eat alone, although that's
what I usually end up doing." He grinned and wiped a drop of soup from
his beard.

Corrie got another bowl from the cupboard and filled it.  She sat down
and shifted her body uneasily.  Sensing her uneasiness, Bill smiled
disarmingly.

"Now then, Corrie, if you're going to be my housekeeper, we need to
know a little about each other.  You first, my life story will take a
little longer than yours, I suspect," Bill chuckled.

As Corrie started telling Bill about herself, he allowed his mind to
wander.  Maybe he could change the name of Detective Peters's girl
friend.

                                -0-0-0-

"Corrie!  I thought I asked you not to do that!  I may be old enough to
be your grandfather, but I'm not crippled.  I can bring my own fire
wood in," Bill said nearly a week later.

The relationship between himself and Corrie had grown from
employer/employee to any easy friendship.  He watched as the girl
dropped the armful of logs into the wood box next to the stone
fireplace.

In spite of his assertion that he was capable of brining in his own
firewood, he was glad she had done it.  At his age he had to conserve
his strength.  Now on the other hand, if he had been her age -- if he
were her age, she wouldn't be bringing in wood for the fire, they both
would be laying naked in front of it.

If he were only fifty years younger and didn't suffer from the damned
arthritis, Bill sighed.  Even forty years younger would be nice -- as
long as he had a sound and healthy body again.  "Bill, do you mind if I
leave a little early today?" Corrie asked brushing off her hands on the
seat of her snug fitting jeans.

"Of course not.  Got a hot date or something?"

"Or something," Corrie replied, there was a slight hint of a twinkle in
her eyes.  She's up to something, Bill thought.

Corrie wanted to leave early so that she could do a little shopping.
She had just found out that Bill's birthday, his seventy first, was the
next day and she wanted to buy him a sweater to ease the chill out of
the cold evenings.  The nights were becoming cooler and she thought he
would like it.

Bill had to fix his own dinner that night, a task he was no stranger
to.  While not quite as good as Corrie, he was a passable cook.  He
washed his dishes and wandered back into the living room, carefully
avoiding the dinning room and his yet unused word processor.

No matter how much he tried, he just couldn't get into the mood to
write.  He knew that it was just a class A writer's block that would
pass eventually, but still he felt guilty about not working on his
novel.

He sat on the overstuffed couch watching the fire for a few minutes.
He had forgotten how good a fire could feel on a damp night like this.
After a while, however, he became bored and wandered back into the
kitchen.  It was while he was searching for some coffee grounds for a
pot of coffee that he discovered a book Corrie had been reading.

Expecting to find a trashy romance novel, he read the title and was
surprised to see that it was one of his first novels.  Written nearly
thirty five years earlier, Bill could only dimly remember the plot.  He
thumbed through it reading a paragraph or two while the coffee perked.

"Well, I've always heard that the author was a fairly competent
wordsmith, maybe I'll slip into something more comfortable and read a
few pages before I go to bed," Bill chuckled to himself.

A few minutes later, Bill had changed into his pajamas and robe and was
sitting comfortably on the couch with his feet propped up on a pillow
on the coffee table.  He was in his favorite position for a cold night
by himself, in front of a fire, reading what was turning out to be a
surprisingly good book.

In spite of having written the book himself, he soon became wrapped up
in the plot.  He had forgotten enough of the story that each turn of a
page brought new surprises and ideas for his current work.

About thirty pages into the book, Bill began to feel the pressures of a
full bladder.  Setting the book down, he threw another log on the fire
and wandered into the bathroom to relieve himself, then out to the
kitchen for another cup of coffee.

When he returned, he leaned his back against the side of an arm,
stretched his legs out on the couch and began reading again.  Or at
least tried to, there seemed to be something wrong with the couch.
There was a lump right under his rear, which was positioned right on
the gap between two cushions.  There was something wedged between them,
something hard.  Moving slightly, Bill reached carefully under his rear
and between the cushions.  Feeling the object he pulled it out.  It was
some kind of cylinder shaped object.  Sliding his reading glasses down
to his nose, something he hadn't needed when he'd written the book he
was reading, Bill looked at the object.

The smoky colored quartz crystal like object was about the size of a
twelve gauge shotgun shell, he decided.  It appeared to be natural
quartz crystal, with some man made improvements, thin gold wires
wrapped tightly around one side.  At the end with the wires, a small
gold loop was attached, making the crystal look like an oversized
pendant for one of those "healing crystal" necklaces.  It had obviously
been left behind by one of the previous renters.

Bill set it on the side table, intending to tell Corrie about it in the
morning, and returned to his reading.  About two hours later, he yawned
and went upstairs to bed, the crystal already forgotten.

                                -0-0-0-

Corrie kicked the kick stand on her dirt bike and got off the small
motorcycle.  She glanced at the face of her small watch, it was barely
nine AM.

She had returned earlier than normal to the beach house.  She wanted to
have the cake finished before lunch and needed at least an hour to
prepare and bake.

Going inside the kitchen she removed her helmet and set it on the
counter next to the coffee maker.  Seeing that Bill hadn't finished the
pot he'd made the night before, Corrie dumped the cold coffee out and
made a fresh pot.  Bill normally didn't get out of bed for another half
hour or so, showering and getting dressed just before she arrived.  In
spite of being a late riser, he always had a pot of coffee perking when
she arrived.

Corrie really liked the old man, she thought he was one of the most
intelligent men she'd ever met.  He was funny, kind, considerate and
respected her as a person.  Best of all, he wasn't like the men, boys
really, she knew in the village, who were always trying to get into her
panties.

If he were about fifty years younger however, she just might let him
succeed.  Corrie smiled at the thought, she'd never kissed a man with a
beard before.  She wondered if was scratchy or if it tickled.  Maybe
she could use the excuse of his birthday to find out.

Corrie decided that she would do something nice for Bill and serve him
breakfast in bed.  It wasn't everyday that you celebrated your seventy
first birthday after all.

She knew what he liked.  She should, after having washed his dirty
breakfast dishes every morning when she arrived.

Humming "Happy Birthday" softly to herself, Corrie carried the bed
table with Bill's Birthday breakfast carefully up the stairs.  She
paused just long enough at the bedroom door to light the single candle
stuck in the stack of pancakes, knock lightly on the door jam and call
out.

"Bill, breakfast is ready!  Happy Birthday to you, happy birth..." she
sang as she stepped into the bedroom.  She had been prepared for almost
anything except for what she saw.

"Who are you?" Corrie asked when she saw the attractive blonde haired
woman sit up in the middle of the queen sized bed.  She was wearing
Bill's pajamas and had obviously just awakened.

"Corrie?  What are you doing here so early?" the startled blonde asked.

The blonde's look of surprise at seeing someone else in the bedroom,
turned to one of horror as her mouth suddenly snapped shut.  She pulled
out the front of Bill's pajamas she was wearing and stared down at her
chest, her eyes almost as large as the pancakes Corrie had made.

Realizing that she still was holding the bed table, Corrie blew out the
candle and set the breakfast on the dresser, never letting the other
woman out of her line of sight.

The blonde had continued her silent inspection of herself, totally
ignoring Corrie.  She was no longer looking down the front of her
pajama top, but now intently inspecting the back of her hands.  She was
acting as though she'd never seen them before as she opened and closed
them into fists.

"Who are you, and where's Bill?" Corrie demanded regaining her
composure.

At the mention of Bill's name, the girl looked up helplessly at Corrie.
The look of anguish was so great on her face that Corrie took a step
toward the bed, then stopped, not quite sure what she should do.

The girl opened her mouth and uttered a little squeak, cleared her
throat and tried to speak again.  It wasn't much better.

"I -- I'm Bill and I'm a woman," she said in an anguished tone and
promptly passed out.

Corrie was scared to death.  First she finds a gorgeous girl in the bed
of a sweet old man who seemed to be missing, then the girl says that
she's Bill and then she passes out before she can explain what the Hell
was going on!

Half scared that the girl had suddenly died from a heart attack or
something, Corrie cautiously approached the bed.

The blonde with the boyishly short hair style, looked familiar, but
Corrie couldn't place where she had seen her before.  Nor could she
remember seeing any girl that was that tiny.  Not more than a size five
or six.  The smallest girl that Corrie knew wore a size 10, and that
was herself.

She took another look at the prone figure and decided on what she had
to do.  Walking backwards, half afraid that the girl would disappear to
where ever Bill had disappeared to, Corrie made her way to the master
bathroom.

                                -0-0-0-

Bill had been suddenly awakened from a sound sleep by Corrie's voice as
she sang "Happy Birthday".  Startled awake, he had sat up in bed and
asked her what she was doing there.

As soon as he had uttered the question, his sleep drugged mind realized
that something was wrong.  His voice sounded strangely high pitched and
his chest felt funny.  Gripping the front of his pajama top that had
seemed to grow about ten sizes too large, Bill pulled it away from his
body and looked inside.

Being a man with a normal sex drive, Bill had seen hundreds of women's
breasts, both completely and partially exposed, in photographs and in
real life.  But never in all of his seventy one years had he seen a
pair from the angle he was seeing them now.

Never before had he seen a pair firmly attached to his own chest!

With a mind that was almost too numb to comprehend what it was seeing,
Bill shifted his attention to his hands, or rather the back of his
hands.  Astonishingly, he could see them clearly, even without the aid
of his glasses.

When he had gone to bed the night before, the lose, heavily wrinkled
skin had been covered with age spots and gray hair.  His veins had been
prominent and he had suffered a minor attack of arthritis that had
forced his hands into a painful claw like position.

Now his the skin on the back of his hands was firm, smooth, completely
clear of blemishes and absolutely free from pain of any kind.  Although
oddly, the scar on the palm of his hand, the result of an accident when
he'd been six, was still in the same location.

It was a young man's -- young woman's skin, Bill corrected himself
thinking of the firm breasts attached to his chest.

"Who are you, and where's Bill?" The sound of Corrie's voice filled
with a strange mixture of fear and anger brought Bill back to reality.

He tried to speak, choked and tried again.

"I -- I'm Bill and I'm a woman," he managed to say before everything
went black.

                                 -0-0-0-

Bill awoke to the sharp smell of ammonia.  He opened his eyes to find
Corrie leaning over him holding an ammonia ampule in her hand.  He
shook his head and pushed Corrie's hand away.

"That's enough," he said, then sneezed.

"Alright.  Now who are you and where is Bill?" Corrie asked again.

Bill looked at his young housekeeper.  "I know that this will be hard
for you to believe, but I am Bill -- William Howard."

"I hate to state the obvious girl, but you can't be.  Bill was an old
man with gray hair and beard.  Neither of which you seem to have,"
Corrie snapped.  Bill rubbed his soft hairless cheeks, he hadn't
thought about his beard.

"Never the less, I AM Bill Howard.  Now then, if you'll move out of the
way, I've got to go to the bathroom.  That is unless you don't mind
cleaning up a mess?" Bill smiled.

Corrie's sense of compassion guided her response.  She moved aside and
allowed the blonde to get out of bed.  As Bill stood up, his pajama
bottoms, made for a man with a forty inch waist, slid to the floor.
Both women stared at the colorful pajama bottoms for a second.  The top
of the pajamas fit like a tent and extended down to mid thigh.

"Looks like I'm going to need some new clothes," Bill quipped.  He
stepped lightly out of the pajama bottoms, walked rapidly to the
bathroom and used the toilet while a very confused Corrie sat on the
edge of the bed and waited.  "Well, now that was different!" Bill said
more to himself than to Corrie, as he returned to the bedroom.

He had rolled up the long sleeves of the pajama top by the time he
returned to the bedroom.  It was now easier to see his hands, but the
cool morning air on his bare rear under the pajama top made him felt
half dressed.

"Now then, where were we?  Oh, yes.  I was trying to convince you that
I am Bill Howard...  uh, slightly transformed, but myself none the
less."

Corrie stood up when Bill reached the side of the bed, the first time
they had both been standing.  Bill tilted his head back to see the
young woman's face.  She was about five seven he knew, so he was
obviously a short woman, a petite woman, he corrected himself.

He had lost about a foot in height and could see the difference in his
perspective of the bedroom furniture, yet strangely, he didn't feel
short.  It was almost as if everything in his body had adjusted itself
to the new height and weight he suddenly found himself in.

"What did you do with Bill?  Did you sleep here with him last night?"
Corrie demanded, "if I don't get some straight answers out of you, I'm
going to call the Sheriff!"

Bill looked at the young woman in surprise.

"Sleep with him?  Why Corrie, do I detect a note of jealousy in your
voice?" Bill teased, then grew serious.  "Corrie, calm down for a
minute, will you?  I assure you, I am who I say I am.  Only right now,
I seem to be in the body of a girl.  Don't ask me how, but its true."

"How can I believe that cock and bull story?  What did you do with Mr.
Howard!"

Bill sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed.  "Look, I'll try to
prove it to you.  Ask me a question that only Bill would know."

"What was the name of your third book and how high did it get on the
Times' Best Seller list?"

Bill frowned.  He may have suddenly found himself in the body of a girl
fifty years younger than himself, but his mind was still seventy one
years old.  He couldn't even remember what the name of his third book
was, let alone how high it had gone on the Best Seller list.

"I don't remember," he admitted sadly.  "I wrote it almost forty years
ago."

"See!  You couldn't even answer a simple question like that!  That
proves you're not Mr.  Howard." Corrie said folding her arms over
breasts in triumph.

"Call me Bill," Bill said absently, his mind still on the question.
What WAS the name of that damned book?  "I'm truly sorry, Corrie.  It
seems that while the body appears much younger, I'm still seventy one
years old up here." Bill tapped his forehead with his forefinger.
"Alright, I'll ask you a question about something that happened here
within the last week.  Something that no one but Mr.  Howard would
know."

"Okay, fire away," Bill sighed, not sure that he would be able to
answer this one either..

"What did I say about Bill's writing?" Corrie asked smugly.

"More about my books?  What did...?  Oh, yeah.  You said and I'll try
to remember your exact words, you said that 'they were okay, had good
plots and characterization'.  But, you thought that they lacked
something.  You called it a 'warmth' between Detective Peters and his
girl friends."

The smug look on Corrie's face faded.  "How did you know that?"

Bill smiled, his confidence returning.  "I was there?"

Corrie shifted uneasily, maybe this woman WAS telling the truth, as
insane as it seemed.  No, that was impossible!

But hadn't Bill himself said that truth was stranger than fiction?
There had to be a logical answer to all this.  Corrie suddenly
remembered a plot that had been in one of Mr.  Howard's books, the
fifth she thought.  A murderer had assumed the identity of the victim,
trying to commit the perfect crime.  Maybe that was the answer, the
blonde had killed Mr.  Howard and was trying to assume his identity.
But how could she expect to do that -- Mr.  Howard was an old man and
this person was obviously a much younger woman.  No, it was too
incredible to be true, but if it wasn't some kind of weird plot, then
it could be that she was telling the truth and was Bill Howard.

Bill watched the look of growing confusion cross his young
housekeeper's face.  He knew exactly what she was going through.  He
had gone through the same denial/acceptance process himself.  He'd been
quicker to accept the truth, but that was only because of the physical
evidence.

Physical Evidence!  That was it!  The body change hadn't removed the
evidence of a childhood accident.  He quickly checked the palm of his
hand again, then grinned.

"Corrie?  Do you remember asking about the scar on the palm of my --
Bill's left hand?"

"Yes, Bill said that he'd seen a juggling act in a circus when he'd
been five or six, and was trying to learn how to juggle -- using real
butcher knives from his mother's kitchen...." Corrie's mouth dropped
open as Bill turned his slender hand over.  The odd "W" shaped scar was
in exactly the same spot Bill's had been.  Corrie reached out and
hesitantly ran her finger lightly over the thin pale "W".  The scar was
real!

"I assure you it is the same, well almost the same, scar."

"Oh, my God!  You are Bill!" Corrie exclaimed and sat down heavily next
to him.  "But how?  Why?"

"My dear, if I knew the answer to those questions, I could make a small
fortune in a few days," Bill smiled.

"But -- you're -- were a man!" Corrie stammered, blushing.  "How do you
feel?"

It was a question that Bill had been asking himself.  How did he feel?
Bill stood and walked to the center of the room.  Flexing his body
slightly, he raised his hands above his head, then bent over and
flipped up into a hand stand.

Corrie's mouth dropped open again in astonishment as Bill balanced his
slender, petite body easily on his small hands.

Corrie had almost giggled when the huge pajama top fell over the
blonde's head and slid down her slender arms.  If there had been any
doubt about the sex of the blonde, there wasn't now!  With a body that
looked that good, she certainly wasn't a man!

Bill laughed and stood up.  The pajama top fell back around his thighs
again, much to Corrie's relief.

"How do I feel?  Corrie, how old do I look to you?"

She shook her head, "I don't know...  Twenty, twenty one?  Not much
more than that, I guess."

"Twenty or twenty one," Bill mused.  "Corrie how would you feel if you
were old and crippled and had suddenly been given a young healthy body
and a chance to live for another fifty or sixty years?"

"But you were a man...  Aren't you upset about losing...?  I mean --
finding yourself in the body of a woman?  Doesn't that bother you?"
Corrie asked incuriously.  "Being a woman?" Bill looked thoughtful for
a minute.  "Corrie, I once asked you for your honest opinion of my
writing, now I'm going to ask you to be honest with me again."

"Okay," Corrie said.  "I'll try."

"This is a little unfair, because you're not old enough to know any
different.  Which sex is the superior one?  Male or female?"

"Superior?  I suppose...  I, uh...  Men, I guess," Corrie said
hesitantly, conditioned by a life time of imposed social values.

"Corrie, let me give you a little bit of wisdom about women that I have
gained over some sixty odd years of experience.  Neither sex is
superior to the other.  Both have unique advantages and disadvantages
over the other.  I was a man for a long time and had a lot of girl
friends.  Most I went to bed with at one time or another," Bill paused
thinking back over his life.  "And I loved every second of it.  But you
know what?"

Corrie shook her head.

"I've always wondered what it felt like to be a woman, to be made love
to by a man, to have periods, even what it felt like to have and nurse
babies." Bill smiled when he saw the odd look of revulsion cross
Corrie's face.

"No, I'm not a transsexual," he laughed, looking down at the twin
mounds tenting his pajama top.  "At least I wasn't before now.  I had
no desire to actually be a woman, you understand, but I was curious
just the same."

"But now you are one," Corrie said softly.

"Yes, and now I am one."

"But what will you do now?  How will you live?  What about your
writing?"

"Corrie, the typewriter -- or word processor now a days, doesn't care
one bit if the fingers that stroke its keys are thick and hairy or
slender and have polished fingernails.  I have earned a good living
writing and will continue to do so in the future.  As for how will I
live?  Well, I'll take it one day at a time and live life as it
happens, just as I always have."

Corrie threw her arms around the petite woman who had once been an old
man.  "I hope you're happy in your new life."

"I'm sure I will be," Bill replied, returning the hug.  He kissed
Corrie on the cheek.  "Thank you for caring about me."

"What are you going to do first?" Corrie asked.

"First?  Why not a thing.  You're going to have to do it for me," Bill
smiled.

"I am?  What is that?"

Bill stood up and allowed his pajama top to slide to the floor.  He
spun around in a circle on his toes, then walked toward the door to the
bathroom.  "First of all Corrie dear, you're going to go to the village
and buy me some clothing that will fit this wonderful new body of
mine." "And what are you going to do while I'm gone?" Corrie called out
over the sound of the shower being turned on.

Bill stuck his head out of the door to the bathroom.  "I think that
I'll shave these hairy legs and under arms of mine.  There isn't much
there, but what there is, is just so gross, don't you think?  Then I'm
going..." Bill grinned and pulled his head back into the bathroom.

Curious, Corrie walked over to the door and leaned against the door
jam.  She watched as Bill stepped lightly into the shower.  "Then what
are you going to do?"

Bill stuck his head out between the shower curtains.  "Then, I'm going
to do something I haven't done in thirty years or more.  I'm going to
go skinny dipping in the ocean.

"What?" Corrie exclaimed.  "But there still might be some late season
tourists on the beach!  You can't do that, someone will see you!"

"Sure I can.  Besides, who knows, maybe I'll find a nice handsome young
man, a man who won't mind that his new girl friend is actually a
seventy one year old 'dirty old man'." Bill winked, smiled and pulled
his head back into the shower.

Corrie shook her head and grinned.  Maybe there wasn't any truth to
that old saying after all.  You CAN teach old dogs new tricks!


Steven and Linda Markham were newly weds and naturally excited about
their first night on what would prove to be an interesting two week
honeymoon.  They planed to spend the entire two weeks in a beach house
located about three hours away from the small town of Weaverville where
they would take up residence later.

They had chosen their honeymoon spot at the recommendation of Corrie
Malone, a college classmate of Linda's and the ex-girl friend of
Steven's.  Corrie's father Henry Malone, owned the Real Estate Office
that managed the rent of the beach house and had given the young couple
a discount because it was both the off season and they were friends of
his daughter.

                                 -0-0-0-

"Wow!  Would you look at the size of that fireplace?" Steven said when
they explored the house.

Linda merely glanced at the huge stone fireplace.  "The whole house is
huge, certainly larger than the apartment we've rented."

"I know, Linda.  But as soon as I get my MBA I'll be able to go to work
for CHEMTREX and we can afford to move into a larger place."

"We may need to do that before then, honey.  Once the baby is born we
will need to move, regardless if you're working for CHEMTREX or not,"
Linda said.

Steven kissed his wife of five hours and rubbed her still flat stomach.
"When will you begin to show?"

Linda placed her hand on top of Steven's, "The doctor said I was about
six weeks along.  So we still have another two, two and a half months
before I have to start wearing maternity clothes."

"Do you think anyone suspects?"

Linda laughed, "Nope, only the doctor and we know.  Although I think my
mother suspects.  I was pretty sick this morning and she walked in
while I was cleaning up.  I told her it was just wedding day nerves.
She didn't say anything, but with her, you can never tell what she's
thinking."

"You were sick?  Are you okay now?" a concerned Steven asked.

An amused look crossed Linda's face, "Yes, I'm fine, just a little
morning sickness.  Normal, or so the doctor says.  Don't worry, I'm not
going to let a little thing like being pregnant interfere with our
loving."

Steven removed his hand from Linda's stomach and slipped it around her
narrow waist, pulling her close to him.  "Speaking of that, have I told
you that I love you?"

Linda kissed him lightly on the mouth, "Humm, not since about ten
minutes ago."

"Well I do, you know."

"I know," Linda said softly.  She kissed her husband passionately.
Each kiss was a little hungrier than the previous.  With obvious
reluctance, Steven broke free.

"Why don't I unpack the station wagon while you go upstairs and make
the bed?" he suggested.

Linda considered the couch for a second, the bed would be better, she
decided.  "Okay, don't forget the presents."

                                 -0-0-0-

An hour later they had unpacked and were sitting at the dining room
table, inspecting their wedding gifts.  "Another toaster!" Linda
laughed.

"One more and we can open our own appliance store," Steven smiled.

"I think we should take three of them back and exchange them for a nice
microwave oven," Linda suggested.  Steven nodded it was a more
practical idea than his anyway.

"We may not have to, the gift that Corrie gave us is about the right
size for a microwave," Steven nodded toward the large, still unwrapped
gift.  Linda slid it across the table to Steven.

"You know, I'm really impressed with the way Corrie bounced back after
you dumped her," Linda said inspecting the silver and white wrapping of
Corrie's gift.  "I certainly didn't expect her to go out of her way
like this.  She even got us a discount on the rental for our
honeymoon."

Steven shook his head, "I thought she would kill me when I told her
that we were through.  I guess that time really does heal old wounds."

"I'm not so sure that it did darling.  You didn't see the look on her
face at the wedding, I did.  It was almost as if she was basking in
some kind of hideously gruesome revenge."

They both looked at the unopened gift.  Steven shifted uneasily.  "You
don't think that she gave us a bomb or something like that do you?"

"Steven, shame on you!  Corrie may have acted as though she was a woman
scorned, but she wouldn't do anything that crazy."

They looked at the gift again.  It sat as quietly on the table as it
had a few seconds before.  Steven and Linda looked up at each other.
Seeing the expression on the other's face they both broke into
laughter.

"Go ahead and open it.  It's probably just a microwave." Linda said
laughing again.

Steven took a deep dramatic breath and untied the satin ribbon.  He
released it nosily, bringing a bought of giggles from Linda when
nothing happened.  A few seconds later the wrapping had been removed,
Steven opened the flaps of the box and looked inside.

"Well, it isn't a microwave," he said, sounding disappointed.

"What is it, honey?"

Steven pulled a new pair of panties out of the box.  "Looks like she
bought you something to wear on the honeymoon," Steven looked into the
box again.  "There must be an entire wardrobe in here."

"What?  You're kidding.  Let me see," Linda said, moving to Steven's
side and peering into the large box.  "That's odd.  Take it all out and
let's see what it is."

Steven began to remove the clothing, pulling out a dozen more panties,
an equal number of bras, a couple pairs of jeans, some blouses and
tops, a denim mini skirt, some women's socks, a pair of nylons, two
pair of shoes, one high heel pumps and the other a pair of white tennis
shoes, two sexy looking nightgowns and the oddest item of all, two pair
of earrings for pierced ears.

Linda didn't have pierced ears.

"Looks like you made out, honey.  This stuff reflects Corrie's
excellent taste in clothes," Steven said holding up a pair of bright
teal string bikini panties.

Linda took the panties from Steven and held them up to her waist.  They
were obviously too small to fit her.  She dropped the panties onto the
pile of the clothing and picked up a pair of jeans.  After glancing at
the label inside, Linda tossed it on the stack of clothing and read the
label of another garment.  "I don't think that she meant these for me."

Steven looked at the pile of women's clothing.  "What makes you think
that they aren't for you?  She certainly didn't buy them for me."

"I can't wear them dear.  They're a little small.  I wear a size 11 and
these all appear to be in a size 5 petite.  They wouldn't even fit
Corrie." "They are?" Steven picked up a bra and looked at the label, it
was a 34 "C", the cup size was right but not the chest size.  "I wonder
why Corrie gave us this stuff then?  What is she up to?"

Linda shivered and looked around the room quickly as though she were
watching for a deranged Corrie armed with a butcher knife to leap out
of a hidden wall panel.

"I don't know.  But I'm frighted of what she could do." Linda shivered
again.  "Steven, let's get out of here.  We can spend our honeymoon in
the apartment."

"Honey, be reasonable.  Corrie wouldn't do anything to harm us, trust
me, I knew her well enough to be absolutely sure of that." Steven took
his wife in his arms.  "The clothing is just her idea of a joke that's
all.  Everything will be fine."

"Do you really think so?" Linda asked tilting her head back to look
into Steven's eyes.  He was surprised to see that she was crying.

"Honey, I know so.  Look, I'll go get the rest of the stuff and you can
fix us something to eat."

"You're hungry?" Linda asked in surprise.  "From the way you acted on
the trip from the reception, I didn't think that we would make it past
the couch in the living room."

"Darn near didn't make it past the back seat of the station wagon,"
Steven mused.  "Well, you know how us old married men are, always
thinking of our stomachs first, then servicing the old lady."

"Is that a promise?"

"Servicing the old lady?  Sure, but I intend to spend a lot of time in
bed, so I'll need lots and lots of food.  I need all the strength I can
get," Steven grinned.

"Damn, I knew I should have packed those smoked oysters."

"What makes you think that I didn't?" Steven grinned and headed out the
door to the car.

Linda watched her husband of six hours for a minute through the large
picture window of the living room as he gathered up the rest of their
luggage.

Steven was a big man, nearly six foot two inches and yet slender at 195
pound.  With his flame red hair and deep blue eyes, he reminded Linda
of a movie she had once seen about the Vikings.  He had that same
intense look in his eyes when he was concentrating on a problem as Kirk
Douglas had.  But to Linda, he was a lot more handsome.

He had been a real prize and she was glad that she had won him away
from Corrie.  She knew that Corrie wasn't mad at Steven, she was
furious with herself.  Still, it was Corrie's own fault that she'd lost
Steven.  Corrie didn't understand what it took to keep a man happy and
she did.

Of course, it had taken getting pregnant to do it, but Steven was worth
it, God was he ever worth it!  It was really too bad that Steven wasn't
the father.  Ah well, she sighed and rubbed her stomach, the next one
will be his.

Linda turned back to the table and started to put the wedding gifts
back into their boxes.  As she carefully placed the clothing back into
the box she seriously debated throwing it all in the fireplace and
burning it.

She changed her mind when she realized that she could do the exact same
thing with the expensive clothing that they were going to do with the
extra toasters.  She would take them back to the store and exchange
them for some maternity clothes for herself.

Linda wondered what Corrie's reaction would be when she found out, and
Corrie would find out, she would see to that.

"Now that will really piss her off," Linda laughed to herself.  Still
she had the nagging feeling that something disastrous was about to
happen.

"Still checking out the loot, darling?" Steven asked from behind her.
Linda turned and smiled.  "Just day dreaming about you and wondering if
I should cook those oysters or have you eat them raw."

"I can think of something a little sweeter than oysters to eat," Steven
leered at Linda.

Linda grinned and leered back.  "So can I lover boy, so can I. In fact,
just thinking about it makes my...  whoops."

Linda's description of what part of her anatomy was watering was
interrupted by Steven as he picked her up in his arms suddenly.  He
gave her a big kiss and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom.

"Be gentle honey, remember I'm supposed to be a virgin on her first
night of her honeymoon," Linda giggled as Steven gently laid her on the
king sized mattress.

"Humm, maybe we shouldn't mess around then," Steven said stepping back
from the bed.

"What?" Linda exclaimed.  "Why not?"

"Well, if you're a virgin who just happens to be pregnant, making love
to you until after the birth would seem sacralegious somehow."

Linda looked dumbfounded at her husband for a second, not sure if he
was kidding her or not.  "Are you serious?"

"Let's take our clothes off and see," Steven grinned.

                                 -0-0-0-

"Well so much for waiting for a virgin birth," Linda sighed, clamping
down on her husband.  He had just filled her with his love juices and
she wanted him to stay inside of her for as long as possible.  She
affectionately rubbed Steven's sweaty bare back.  He wasn't the best
she'd ever had, but he certainly wasn't the worst either.

"Happy honey?" Linda asked as she nipped at his ear lobe.

Steven responded by trying to flex his slowly deflating penis inside of
her.  Linda giggled and tried to tighten up even further.  Steven
popped out like a watermelon seed that had been squeezed between two
fingers.

"Oh, no" Linda moaned disappointedly.

"I'm sorry honey, it sort of just slipped out."

"So I noticed," Linda sighed.  She pushed gently against Steven's
shoulders, signaling him that she wanted to get up.  She rolled off the
bed and stood looking down at her husband.  "After I've cleaned up a
little, I'm going to take a shower.  Care to join me?"

"Love to," Steven replied as he moved to the side of the bed and sat
up.

Linda bent over and kissed him, as he tried to fondle her bare breasts.

"Something tells me this is going to be an interesting two weeks,"
Linda smiled down at her husband as he maneuvered one of her nipples
into his mouth.

                                 -0-0-0-

Corrie Malone stood just below the crest of a sand dune overlooking the
beach house.  She was dressed for the cool weather, jeans, pull over
cable knit sweater, denim jacket and a pair of binoculars.

Steven and Linda had been at the house for four days, and she was
curious how they were getting along.  She brought the binoculars to her
eyes and adjusted the focus.

The house seemed to leap out at her, allowing her to see the inside of
several rooms with a fair degree of clarity.  One of the rooms, the
bedroom on the second floor, attracted her rapt attention.

"Jeezus, they're like a couple of minks!  Don't they ever stop?" she
asked herself.  "Enjoy it while you can, cousin.  Before your honeymoon
is over, you'll be sampling lesbian love, that is if you dare!"

                                 -0-0-0-

"I need to take a rest, honey.  I'm sorry," Steven said when his wife
started to make advances toward him.  He pulled on his undershorts.

"So soon?  Is mommy's little man all drained out?" Linda pouted.

"You might say that," Steven sighed.  Actually he had reached the point
where his testicles had a constant ache from their struggle to keep up
with the demand.  "I'll be alright tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" Linda exclaimed dejectedly.

Steven looked at the expression of disappointment on his wife's face.
"Well, maybe later tonight."

Linda sighed.  "I suppose that I could stand a few hours of rest
myself," she admitted.  You certainly know how to wear a girl out --
and most pleasantly too, I might add."

Steven's stomach growled, reminding them both that they hadn't eaten in
nearly seven hours.

"Hungry dear?" Linda giggled.

"Yeah.  Why don't you fix some dinner, while I build a fire," Steven
suggested.  "We can cuddle up on the couch and watch the fire while we
eat." "What would you like?  I've got some steaks, a couple of potatoes
I can bake and the fixings for a salad."

"Sounds good," Steven agreed.

Linda rubbed her bare body against Steven's.  "Shall we have our salad
without dressing, or do you want to get dressed first."

Steven laughed.  "I don't know about you, but I'm getting cold.  That
old song about your love keeping me warm, never took into account the
storm that's heading in from the ocean."

Linda glanced out the window.  The sky did seem darker, more
threatening.  "I guess that it will be with dressing then."

                                 -0-0-0-

Steven had thrown on a pair of jeans and a wool shirt and slipped his
bare feet into a pair of sneakers.  "Why don't you take a quick shower
and make yourself pretty, while I bring in some wood.

Linda nodded, and headed toward the bathroom, while Steven went down
stairs and out on the porch, where a wood pile was stored.

                                 -0-0-0-

Corrie watched through her binoculars as Steven took several loads of
fire wood into the house.  She glanced up at the darkening sky and
shivered.  It was going to be a cold and wet night, a very wet night.
She turned and walked down the back of the sand dune to where she had
hidden her car.  If anything was going to happen it wouldn't be for
another couple of hours yet.  She might as well keep warm.

                                 -0-0-0-

Linda got out of the shower and slowly dried herself off.  In spite of
her teasing, she was glad that Steven had decided to put their sexual
gymnastics on hold for a while.  She was starting to get a little sore,
proof that her sexual appetite wasn't insatiable after all.

Linda walked back to the bedroom to get dressed.  Not really watching
where she was going, she accidently kicked the box containing the
clothing Corrie had given them as a wedding gift.  Linda rubbed her
sore toe as she balanced herself on one foot.

"Damn you anyway!" Linda snarled and kicked the box with the side of
her bare foot into the corner.  The box bounced against the wall and a
pair of panties fell out.  Linda stared at the teal bikinis for a
second then turned and got dressed.  For about the hundreth time since
they had opened Corrie's gift, Linda wondered what she was up to.

                                 -0-0-0-

"It's nice to have a fireplace on a night like this isn't it?" Steven
asked several hours later as he settled back onto the couch.  The log
he'd just thrown on the fire sizzled damply then began to smolder as
flames began to curl around it.

Linda cuddled up against Steven and ran her hand along one of his denim
clad muscular thighs.  The fabric was stretched tightly, allowing her
to feel the strength of his leg under her hand.

"Humm, almost as good as the fire here," she purred sliding her hand
upward.  She ran a finger along the crotch seam of the jeans.  Under
her light finger pressure she could feel the already tight fabric grow
a little tighter.

"I thought that you were too tired to mess around?" Linda giggled.

Steven ran a hand through Linda's long brunette hair.  It still smelled
faintly of shampoo from her morning shower.  Like the rest of her, it
was beautiful, Steven decided.  He kissed the top of her head.

Linda wiggled slightly and pulled herself closer to her husband's
strong warm body.  She moved her hand from the seam of his pants to
just above his waist band.  She began pulling his shirt out of his
pants.

Steven stopped her.  "Wait a second honey, there's something sicking me
in my back."

Steven leaned forward as Linda reached behind him.  She dug between the
cushions that had been spread apart by Steven's weight.  She felt a
slight tingle in her lower abdomen as she touched the hard cool object.
Totally unaware that the baby she was carrying would grow up in an
entirely different direction from which nature had intended, Linda
pulled the object free.

"Here's what's been sticking you, sweetheart," she said handing it to
Steven.

Steven took the object from his wife and glanced at it.  It looked like
a part of a child's toy.  A crystal with some brass wire wrapped around
one end couldn't have been anything else but a child's toy.  He tossed
it casually on the end cushion of the couch.

"Now then where were we?" Steven asked, taking his wife in his arms.

"You were just showing me the heat of your love," Linda purred.

"Oh, yeah," Steven yawned, "that too.  I'm sorry honey, but I'm beat.
I'm about to fall asleep on my feet.  I guess that I shouldn't have
eaten so much for dinner."

"You're the one that insisted on three helpings of my lasagna, you
pig," Linda smiled softening the insult to a sign of affection.  She
was pleased that Steven found her cooking almost as desirable as he
found her.  "That's alright honey, it's late and I'm getting tired too.
What do you say we go upstairs and go to bed."

"I say that it sounds like a good idea," Steven agreed yawning again.
He rose from the couch and pulled the fireplace screen closed.
Turning, he held out his hand and helped Linda stand up then followed
her upstairs to the master bedroom.

Ten minutes later they had dressed for bed, Steven wearing a pair of
undershorts and an old "Grateful Dead" T-shirt he'd bought the summer
before and Linda in a short waltz length nightgown.  Linda snuggled
close to her husband, enjoying his warmth.  He put his arm around her
shoulder and almost instantly fell asleep.


Linda listened to Steven's steady breathing for a few minutes,
disappointed that he hadn't managed to stay awake a few minutes longer.

Linda pulled Steven's T-shirt up and lightly ran her finger tips along
his firm stomach.  Even in the darkness, she could feel the growth
patterns in his body hair.  She allowed her hand to follow the pattern
down to his navel.  She hesitated for a second, wondering if he would
get an erection in his sleep, and more importantly, keep it long enough
for her to play a little.  It was an interesting question, one she
didn't have enough experience with any man to know the answer.  She
didn't know, but there was only one way to find out!

Linda, being careful not to awaken Steven, slowly worked his
undershorts down around his thighs.  She stopped several times to
listen to his steady breathing amazed that he hadn't awakened.

Hooking one toe in the waist band of the undershorts she gently slid
them down around his ankles and over his feet.  With her free hand, she
slowly began to massage him.  Much quicker than she expected, she could
feel his penis becoming erect.

Still he slept on, undisturbed by her gentle and intimate fondling.
Linda was both astounded and amused.  She had always known that a man
couldn't be raped by a woman, not an unwilling man anyway.  Yet, Steven
was proof that a woman could have sex with a man without his prior
approval.  She wondered if she could satisfy herself without waking him
up.

Again, there was only one way to find out.  Suppressing a giggle, Linda
turned over and sat up on her knees.  Hiking her nightgown above her
waist, she swung her leg over her prone husband's hips.  With her other
hand she carefully guided the tip of his penis to the waiting opening
between her legs.  Slowly lowering herself, she wiggled a few times to
make sure he was securely inside of her before she began to gently rock
back and forth.

Slow and easy, she thought, savoring the sensation.  Usually Steven
moved much faster when he was controlling the penetration.  With Linda
on the top, she moved at a speed she liked, taking nearly twice as long
to complete one cycle as Steven usually did, and allowing him to sink
much deeper in the process.

If Steven lasts, I could go on like this all night, she thought to
herself.  She hadn't even worked up a sweat and was already nearly half
way to an incredible orgasm.

She was understandably disappointed when she suddenly felt Steven begin
to shrink and slip out of her.  Swearing softly to herself, Linda
reached between her legs to guide him back again.

Confused by what she thought she had felt, Linda moved off of Steven
and carefully felt his groin.  When she found his penis, it was still
erect, still ready to complete the act she had started.  But it didn't
feel right.  It was small, too small.  She realized with a start that
he hadn't lost his erection, as she had first suspected, but he was
actually shrinking!

Linda turned on the bed lamp on the side table and blinked a few times
until her eyes adjusted to the bright light.  When she could see
without having to squint, she pulled up Steven's T-shirt and nearly
fainted.  Her hands hadn't deceived her, he was shrinking!

Linda sat, arms tight around her bent knees watching Steven.  Every now
and then she would have to wipe the tears from her eyes as her husband
of less than a week slowly changed from a man to a woman.

She didn't know how the change was accomplished, but she knew why it
was happening.  It was all Corrie's fault!  She just knew it!

                                -0-0-0-

Dawn was breaking over the ocean when the changes in Steven appeared to
slow and stop.  There was no question that he could never qualify for
the title of husband and father again.

Linda's horror over Steven's astonishing transformation had slowly
changed as well.  It had changed from shock and dismay to bewilderment
and finally to anger.  Anger that had first been directed toward Steven
and had caused her to strike one of his shapely thighs with her fist,
then to who she knew was the real cause.

"Corrie, you bitch!" Linda stood on the porch and screamed.  "I know
you're out there, damn you!  I want to talk to you, right now!  Corrie,
if you know what's good for you, you'll haul your fat ass down here,
before I have to come looking for you!"

Corrie was awakened by Linda's screams.  Smiling to herself, she left
her car and crawled up to the crest of the sand dune.  She had
forgotten to bring her binoculars.  It didn't matter, she could see
Linda standing on the bottom step of the porch still dressed in her
nightgown screaming her head off.

Grinning to herself, Corrie stood and brushed the sand from her jeans.
Time to face her cousin, and let her know the reason for all of this.
She wished that she could have been there when Steven had begun his
change.  It would have been an even better revenge to have watched the
look on Linda's face.

                                -0-0-0-

Steven awoke to the sounds of an argument coming from the living room
down stairs.  He laid motionless, listening to the two voices.  He
recognized Linda's immediately, it took him a second longer to realize
that the other voice was his ex-girl friend, Corrie Malone.

What was she doing here?  he wondered.

The voices were loud enough to have disturbed his sleep, but not quite
loud enough to make out what they were saying.  Something about some
kind of change...?

Steven sighed and stretched.  He might as well get up and see if he
could intervene before the loud verbal argument became physical.

He started to sit up and was astonished to see that he was wearing what
looked like a huge black cotton nightshirt.  A nightshirt that was the
exact duplicate of a "Grateful Dead" T-shirt he'd liked and bought the
previous summer.  An exact duplicate right down to the small bleach
stain on one of the sleeves!

He vaguely remembered wearing the T-shirt to bed, along with a pair of
his undershorts, which seemed to be missing, but knew that while it had
been a little large, it hadn't been this big!

What the Hell was going on here?  he thought.  He suddenly realized
that there was an unaccustomed accustomed weight on his chest, one that
moved at a slightly different speed that his body did.  He pulled the
neck of the T-shirt out and looked through the large gap at his chest.

                                -0-0-0-

"You always were jealous over anything I did!" Linda screamed at
Corrie.

"Jealous?  Me?  That's a laugh!  You're the one that's jealous!"

"I am not," Linda denied.  "I don't have a jealous bone in my body!"

"No?  Then why did you steal Steven away from me?  You bitch!  You
don't even love him, at least not as much as I did!"

                                -0-0-0-

Steven was stunned to see two perfectly formed women's breasts firmly
attached to his chest.  "Where the Hell did these come from?" he asked
himself.  He was surprised to hear the sound of his voice, higher in
timbre, soft and undeniable feminine sounding.

It was almost as if he had...  Steven's hand shot to his groin.

"What the fuck!" Steven exclaimed softly as he felt his flat front
through the T-shirt.

He jerked the T-shirt off, or tried to.  He discovered that he not only
was he sitting on tail of the T-shirt, which was long to begin with,
but it now extend to just above his knees.  The only way he would be
able to get it off would be to either go through some strenuous body
contortions or get out of bed.

He chose the lesser of the two and slid out of the king sized bed.
Everything in the room seemed to have grown about forty percent larger
-- or he had shrunk that amount.  He bent over and grabbed the hem of
the T-shirt and pulled upward.

Ignoring the sharp pain as he jerked the shirt past his breasts, Steven
pulled it over his head and threw it on the bed.

Scarcely believing his eyes Steven inspected his nude body.  His
fingers had not deceived him, he was a woman!

He suddenly realized the significance of Corrie's wedding gift.  The
clothing hadn't been for Linda as he had originally thought, they had
been intended for him!

                                -0-0-0-

"You bitch!  You know that it wasn't my fault that you caught the
measles from me!  Your parents were the ones that insisted that you
visit me when I was sick, not the other way around!  Besides, that was
in the third grade for Christ's sakes!" Corrie snapped.

"Yeah, and did you ever gloat when I finally came down with them!"

"I did no such thing!" Corrie protested indignantly.  "And even if I
did, it was only because you destroyed my most favorite doll!"

"Oh, so you're going to bring that up again, are you!  I did not give
my dog your damned doll!  He just snuck into my room and chewed its
head off!"

"Yeah right!  He just unhooked his leash, opened two locked doors,
climbed a flight of stairs and 'just snuck' into your bedroom without
anyone seeing or hearing him!"

"That's right, he did!" Linda said defensively.

"That's a load of bull crap and you know it!" Corrie retorted.

"May be, but that didn't give you the excuse to..."

                                -0-0-0-

There was no question about it, he had been somehow transformed into a
woman.  A very short woman with short dirty blonde hair, a natural hair
coloring if the shade of his pubic hair was any indication.  The only
consolation, small as it was, was that he had a terrific figure, better
even than Linda's.  He had thought her's was perfect, until he had seen
his own.

Steven turned away from the mirror and sighed.  He knew that he would
be stuck like this forever.  The changes had been too profound, too
deep and he suspected as he pressed the area just below his navel, too
complete to go back to normal.

If he'd just suddenly grown breasts he could have had surgery to have
them removed and continue on with his life as though nothing had
happened.  Even if he'd lost his penis and testicles through an
accident or some strange illness, he could have continued on as Steven,
slightly altered and unable to be a father again, but still himself.

A father -- Linda and his baby.

He shivered again.  He didn't know if it was from the cold or the
realization that he could never again hold the title "father" to some
small child.  Still, he had the potential to be a parent in what he
suspected would be an even more fulfilling and satisfying role.

No, there would be no turning back.  Steven had always liked a
challenge and now he was facing the greatest of his life.  Everything
he had ever worked for, every experience, every thing he had ever
loved, even the woman he married were alien to the body that had
suddenly been thrust upon him.

It was too bad, but there was no way they could continue with the
marriage now, not after what had happened.  He would miss sleeping with
Linda, she'd been a great lay, had really known how to make a man
happy.  Steven shivered slightly as he gently traced a line across his
lower abdomen with his finger tips.  Now it would be his turn to make
some man happy.

Steven listened to the angry voices coming from the living room below.
Linda and Corrie were still at it.  He had better go down stairs before
it got out of hand.

Sighing again, he walked lightly to the box of clothing.  The first
thing he would need was a pair of panties, maybe the teal string
bikinis, then he would have to figure out how to put a bra on...

                                -0-0-0-

"Corrie, we may have hated each other and tried to pull dirty tricks on
each other, but nothing I ever did was deserving of this dirty trick!"

"Ha!  What about stealing Steven away from me in the first place?  That
was the lowest thing you could have ever done." Corrie countered.

Steven walked into the room and stood silently watching the two women
argue.  Neither noticed him standing in the doorway.  He was strangely
disappointed they hadn't.  It was the first time in his life he had
worn women's clothing and he wanted to see their reaction to the form
fitting jeans and top he was wearing.

It would do no good to try to stop them, this had obviously been
building up for a long time.  From the snatches of conversation he'd
been able to hear upstairs they were cousins and bitter rivals.  Each
had practiced their own version of Brinksmanship, increasing the stakes
until he had married Linda.  When Linda and he had been married, Corrie
had devised some way to change his sex so that they wouldn't remain
married.

"You should have worked a little harder at keeping him.  Like I did,"
Linda replied smugly.

"By getting knocked up you mean, no thank you!  By the way, is it even
his?" Corrie shot back.  Steven's ears perked up when Linda suddenly
reddened.

"It's not his!" Corrie shouted in triumph.  Linda's embarrassed blush
deepened.  Corrie's shot in the dark had hit the mark.  "You got
yourself knocked up by someone else and then blamed it on Steven!  My
God, Linda that's the lowest thing you could ever do to a man.  I would
never stoop that low!"

"Oh yeah?  Only because you didn't think of it first.  What about what
you've done to him?  Turning a normal healthy male into a woman doesn't
even begin to be on the scale.  At least using the excuse of a
pregnancy to get married has some traditional precedent," Linda said
lamely.  She had been caught with her panties down so to speak and she
knew it.  The two women fell silent, Corrie triumphant and Linda
humbled by the discovery of her deception.

Steven took the momentary silence to walk further in the room.  Both
Corrie and Linda looked up at him.  Their reactions were different,
Corrie looked smugly pleased, while Linda looked as though she wanted
to cry.

"It seems ladies, that we have something to talk about, don't we,"
Steven said.

Corrie was the first to speak.  "I see that you found the earrings,"
she commented.

Steven fingered one of the gold rings in his ears and smiled wryly as
he sat in the chair facing the two women on the couch.

"I thought I might as well.  The holes were already there.  But then
again you obviously knew they would be."

"I suspected they would be," Corrie confirmed.

"Steven, I..." Linda started, only to be broken off by Steven as he
raised his hand.

"Call me Stephanine.  Given the circumstances, a girl's name seems more
-- appropriate now," Steven said.  There was a touch of sarcasm in his
voice.  "I've been listening to the two of you arguing for the last
hour.  I've come to the conclusion that I've been nothing but a pawn in
your childish battle of one Brinksmanship."

"Oh, honey, that's not true," Linda said.  "I really did love you."

"So did I," Corrie chorused.  Her pronouncement brought a sharp look
from Steven and a look of pure hatred form Linda.

"You sure have a strange way of showing your love, Corrie."

Corrie blushed and looked at the floor.  She wasn't ashamed at what she
had arranged to happen, it had been the ultimate revenge against Linda.
The fact that Steven would literally never be the same didn't bother
her as much as losing him in the first place.

"And you, Linda," Steven turned his attention to his wife.  "You used
the past tense of love a little too quickly.  I don't think that you
ever did love me.  I was just something that Corrie had and you wanted
badly enough to use someone else's baby to get me to marry you...
That, even if it had been my baby, is beneath contempt.  I think you're
both sick, sick and depraved beyond words!"

Both women looked down in embarrassment, avoiding the accusing stare
from a righteously angry Steven.

"Linda, you can file for an annulment as soon as you go back to
Weverville tonight for all I care.  I have no wish to remain married to
you even if I were still Steven and a man.  And you Corrie, you can
crawl back into whatever hole you climbed out of."

"What are you going to do?" Linda asked.  Steven was surprised to see
tears in her eyes.

"Me?  What I should do is take a gun and shoot you both!" The two women
flinched at the threat.  "But I won't.  I think that just knowing what
you've done to me and yourselves punishment will be enough.  It's a
secret that you'll have to live with for the rest of your life."

"Stephanie, I'm really sorry about all this.  If there is anything I
can do..." Corrie's voice trailed off when she suspected that she'd
done enough already.  Steven surprised her by looking thoughtful then
grinning.

"Interesting that you should ask, Corrie.  There are a few things you
can do." Sensing that she was giving a reprieve Corrie looked up
expectantly.  "In fact both of you can."

"Anything within reason," Corrie qualified.

"I'll do anything you ask," Linda said bringing a glare from Corrie.

Steven shook his head, they were still competing, even now.  They
haven't learned a thing, Steven sighed.

"Alright, first of all, I'm going to need more clothing.  Everything I
own obviously doesn't fit any longer." The two women nodded
simultaneously.  "The next thing I'll need is an apartment, rent free,
for say, six months."

Again the simultaneous nod.  "Daddy has some apartments that he
manages, he can find something that we can afford," Corrie said to
Linda.

"And finally, I need a store, something located in the village will do
nicely."

"A store?  What in the world would you want that for?" Linda asked
curiously.

"Why for the business, of course.  I have a Bachelors and almost a
Master's in Business, and I intend to put my education to good use."

Their curiosity sparked, both women looked first at each other then
back at Steven.  "What kind of business?" Corrie asked.

"Why I thought that would be obvious," Steven said seeming surprised by
her question.  "I'm going to open up a Junior Petite Clothing Boutique
specializing in size 5.  I'm going to make a fortune selling clothing
to the occupants of this house!"
