Class Project

Class Project

                                                             Janice Dreamer

1. Chapter

"Okay, everyone pair up into teams. Use the remaining time to talk among
yourselves and start deciding what your project will be. Remember, you have
until Monday to get back to me with your project's title but I need you to
sign the sheet as you leave today so I have a list of all the teams."
Professor Krawlaski brandished a sign-up sheet at his Anthropology 361
class. His last comment was partially drowned out by the buzz of
conversation as the dozen students began sorting themselves out into pairs.

Cathy cursed under her breath when the Professor mentioned a "team"
project. It was only the first day of the semester and she didn't know any
of her classmates yet. But it didn't take a genius to see that she was
obviously the only Anthro major in the class, all the others had most
likely signed up to satisfy their prurient interest in the course title: A
Comparison of Sexual roles in Myth, Legend and Religious Tradition. She
knew she'd probably have to do the work of two people for this project. But
it couldn't be helped -- the project was 60% of the grade for the class and
she'd be damned if she'd ruin her perfect 4.0 GPA because some lame partner
would rather party than put in work on their "joint" project. So she held
back, trying to size up by looks alone who'd be a good partner.
Predictably, the guy she vaguely recognized as some jock on the football
team approached the pretty little thing with the big tits; yeah they'd be
researching sexual roles all right. And the frat boy seemed instinctively
drawn to the sorority queen; Beemer and Mercedes -- what a natural pair --
their project would involve little more than rewriting and editing some
paper dredged out of fraternity archives. The remaining choices of
prospective partners seemed just as dismal so she merely watched with a
feeling of resignation as the rest of the class sorted themselves out,
until finally her decision was made by default.

One guy remained unpaired. He was very big and awkward looking, visibly
nervous, sweating, eyes downcast, his brown hair plastered to his forehead
in damp strings. Occasionally he cast a furtive glance around the room to
see if anyone might be showing the slightest interest in teaming up with
him. Cathy sighed, well it could be worse -- he looked like a real dweeb,
totally into academics, so maybe he'd be some help with the research on the
project.

Bob looked around the room uncomfortably. He always hated when they did
this -- made everyone pick partners. It brought back memories of childhood
games when he'd been the last picked, enduring the embarrassment of
listening to arguments over who'd get `stuck' with him. He'd turned inward
to books and ideas and food. Already overweight and clumsy, he spent more
and more time locked in his room with a book and a bag of chips or a box of
cookies. It only got worse in high school when everyone else started
dating. That only emphasized his isolation. He got great grades but he had
almost no sense of how to interact socially. The few painful times he'd
managed to get up enough courage to ask a girl out had ended in rejection.
Now, here he was in college and nothing had changed --- totally paralyzed
by fear of rejection over asking someone to be his partner for a stupid
term paper.

"Hi, I'm Cathy Anderson. Looks like we're a team."

Bob looked up, slightly startled to see a woman standing in front of him
with her hand extended in greeting. She was tall for a woman, about 5'10".
Her face was rather plain and she seemed to project a total disregard for
femininity, coarse black hair cut severely short, bushy untended eyebrows,
a total lack of jewelry, and baggy dark colored clothing. Her expression
seemed detached, coolly superior, as if she were indulgently watching the
rest of the world make fools of themselves. Her demeanor reminded him of
Morticia Addams --- an impression she seemed to cultivate.

Bob awkwardly rose from his seat and smiled at her nervously. He wiped his
palm on the thigh of his jeans and took her hand. "Uh... hi. I'm Bob...
uh...Wilson. I... um... guess we're partners?"

Standing, Cathy realized how big he was. At least 6'4" tall, and over 300
lbs. But he carried himself hunched over as though trying to avoid notice.
His face wasn't bad looking --- if he lost some weight he'd be very
attractive, in a Conan the barbarian kind of way. But he looked like he
needed self confidence even more than a diet. His attitude just screamed
"I'm not wortheeee!"

The bell signaling the end of class rang just then and everyone started the
mad rush for the door.

"So. I got a class. When can we meet?" she slung her backpack over her
shoulder and looked at him expectantly.

"Um how about one?"

"Works for me. At the Mickey-D's on the corner." She turned and walked out
the door.

He pulled out a crumpled bandanna and wiped the sweat from his brow as he
watched her leave.

                                   *****

Cathy glanced around the crowded McDonald's, feeling ashamed of herself for
being relieved that none of her friends were here to see her with Bob. She
stared in horrified fascination at the sheer mass of food he'd ordered and
found she'd lost her appetite. Her chicken nuggets remained untouched as
she watched Bob methodically devour his burgers, all the while humming
unconsciously to himself.

Finally she tore her attention away from Bob's feeding frenzy, and said
"Okay, let's get started. What ideas do you have for a topic?"

"I haven't got a clue. I've never taken any Anthropology courses before."

"So why exactly did you sign up for this course?" Cathy asked, irritated.

He slowly swallowed a bite from his third quarterpounder before answering.
When he finally spoke he sounded defensive. "I'm a computer sciences major.
The department requires us to take a certain number of non-technical
electives --- probably they think we won't be geeks if we take a few
credits of humanities."

Cathy felt guilty for being so judgmental and was sorry she'd snapped at
him. He was the stereotypical social outcast. So down on himself and
anxious to be accepted. She had underestimated just how painfully shy he
was; it wasn't her intention to hurt his feelings with her flippant remark.

He paused for a moment, watching Cathy's reaction. When she didn't laugh,
but actually appeared to sympathize, he seemed to reach a decision.
Blushing crimson, he blurted out in a rush, "I guess I uh also sort of
hoped an Anthropology course or two might help me figure out how to get
along with people better you know, to not be such a total geek."

She grinned at his attempt to lighten things up. "But then shouldn't you
have signed up for one of the survey courses, something on social
interaction? Instead of an advanced course on religious beliefs in
primitive society?"

"No, that stuff is so trite. Pop psycho-babble I've heard before. But I'm
interested in lots of things besides computers. I remember reading
Bulfinch's Mythology and thinking how cool all those stories were. Gods and
Goddesses and Demons and Angels. I guess I wanted to find out more about
all that."

"Well, anyway, what topic do you think we should we should do?" Bob asked.

"Well, Anthropology is my major, but my real area of interest is the
occult. There's just too many claims of supernatural occurrences throughout
history. Are all those reports and myths and legends false? Science doesn't
explain everything in the universe --- at least not yet. It's my theory
that at least some of the legends of the occult are based on fact, and by
applying the scientific method to research on primitive belief systems we
can discover things we never dreamed possible."

"Then why don't we do our project on something like that? Maybe on
demonology? You know, summoning demons and stuff like that? It sounds like
a cool topic." Bob suggested.

"Okay, sounds like an original project. I've got some old references on
sorcery and alchemy, that sort of thing. We could do an analysis of the
methodology for summoning demons. I can drop some reference material off
for you to get familiar with over the weekend and we can get together
Sunday to write up an outline," Cathy said.

                                   *****

Bob muzzily stared at the page and tried to read it for the eighth time. It
was no use. He just couldn't get into this mumbo-jumbo pseudo-theological
stuff with all the cautions and dire warnings. He had enjoyed reading the
myths of the Greek gods as fiction but this stuff Cathy'd given him to read
made it all seem so serious, except there was no logic to it. The diagrams
were interesting enough with their mathematical precision, exacting
placements of lodestones and iron and copper tracings to form geometric
shapes; but the `spells' just seemed like so many nonsense syllables. Why
would the guy who originally wrote this be so exact about one thing and
then go off into gobbledygook? He tried pronouncing the incantation aloud.
The author had painstakingly detailed a phonetic rendering of the words, so
their exact pronunciation must have been important to him.

He felt silly as he was attempting to speak the meaningless sounds but he
noticed a distinct pattern and rhythm to the words. The sounds didn't seem
like a language, but the singsong rhythm reminded him of a hypnotist he'd
once seen at a stage show. Suddenly he had an inspiration. What if the
"spell" was intended more to induce a certain mental state, like a hypnotic
trance or a Buddhist monk's meditation chant, rather than actually convey
meaning? Then the logic of the instructions for precise phonetic
pronunciation made sense to him. Why, he could even mathematically model
the sound pattern and input it into the language recognition/cryptography
program he was working on as part of his senior thesis. Then he and Cathy
could do a high-tech reenactment of a demon summoning, complete with video
recording to show the Professor. That would certainly be a new slant on
demonology. At the very least it would make a unique class project. And it
sounded like a lot of fun.

                                   *****

"So look, it's worth a try isn't it?" Bob was explaining his idea to Cathy
over a cup of coffee Sunday afternoon.

"How typical of a computer science major. You want to take an ancient and
solemn ritual and digitize it. Turn it into some kind of computer game!"
she said, unconvinced.

"Isn't that what the course is all about? Scientific analysis of primitive
belief systems? If we do a halfway decent write up we're sure to ace the
project," Bob dangled the one lure he knew would entice the grade greedy
girl.

"Well a video recording of a summoning ceremony would impress Krawlaski, I
guess. And it would be valuable to see if modern science can make sense of
a ritual like the one in the Grimoire. Okay, let's do it."

"Okay! Now let's work out the details. We can do it at my place -- I've got
a big living room --- and my roommates spend all their free time over at
the University computer center. You supply the expertise on all the rituals
and I'll supply the computer and technical expertise."

They talked for over an hour until both were satisfied with the idea and
their various parts in it. Then they wrote up their outline for submission
in class on Monday.

                                   *****

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving Cathy and Bob spent all day setting up.
Bob's roommates had already left for the extended holiday and they had the
apartment to themselves for the next five days. It was ten minutes before
the stroke of midnight and they had just finished making a final check of
all their preparations. Bob's living room was a mess with all the furniture
pushed back to form a clear area in the center with wires and cables strewn
everywhere. Wires were laid out on the hardwood floor and stapled down to
form three precisely measured pentagrams arranged in an equilateral
triangle. Each pentagram had little LED lights at each of the five points
of the star design. All the wires ran to an improvised junction box which
was in turn connected to a serial computer cable plugged into the com port
of Bob's computer. The computer itself sat inside one pentagram. On the
monitor was a graphic of a digital clock, ticking down the seconds to
midnight.

"Well, it's all set. The program'll start automatically at midnight, all we
have to do is wait. Let's get a beer before we have to get into position,
Cathy. You look tense and it might relax you." Bob said casually. He'd
grown comfortable around her over the past weeks as they worked closely
together on the project. She was one of the very few women he'd known who
he wasn't afraid of, and considered a friend.

"This may sound weird, but I think we should be very careful here," Cathy
said almost in a whisper. "You know all the old stories about how demons
will try to trick you just for spite."

"Oh come on, Cathy!" Bob sighed in exasperation. He still wondered why an
otherwise intelligent girl took all that mumbo-jumbo so seriously. "This is
an experiment, nothing more. At most we might see some interesting natural
phenomenon brought on by the magnetic fields in the pentagram patterns and
maybe enhanced by a meditation trance from listening to the `spell'.
Everything will be under control of the program. We know a lot more than
the people who wrote that `spell'. We know how the laws of physics work and
we know how to control them, so there's no reason to worry about demons and
all that."

"Well, it can't hurt to be careful anyway. So I think I'll pass on the
beer." As if he's going to listen anyway, but at least I tried to warn him.
God when he goes off on his scientist trip he sure can be pigheaded, Cathy
thought. Damn shame he couldn't be that confident in the rest of his life.
She had grown to like him and wished she could get him to open up more and
maybe others would see him as more than a big dweeb.

"Suit yourself." Bob wandered over to the kitchen alcove and got himself a
beer from the fridge. He flopped down in a chair and sipped it moodily as
the countdown crawled by. Finally the screen's graphic changed to a red
flashing pattern and the speakers chimed.

"Thirty seconds until program initiation, please assume your positions" the
computer's artificial voice said.

Bob and Cathy got up and stood in the center of the two unoccupied
pentagrams. They fidgeted nervously then stood still, staring at the
monitor in anticipation as the final seconds ticked off.

Just as the timer hit 11:59:59 all fifteen of the LED's at the points of
the three pentagrams lit up. Then the screen went blank. From the
computer's speaker came rhythmic sounds which rose and fell, becoming
guttural one moment then changing to a hauntingly melodic pattern. The
sounds were being created by a fractal generating routine which used the
demon summoning incantation as its kernel. There was no recognizable
language but the sounds had a strangely hypnotic effect and both Bob and
Cathy felt themselves drifting along while the computer generated "spell"
echoed in their minds. Meanwhile the screen had come to life in a
constantly changing pattern of swirling colors which added to the sense of
detachment they were feeling as a result of the incantation --- an
embellishment Bob had made on the original instructions for the spell
caster to picture a repetitive series of geometric shapes in his mind.

Bob and Cathy were both swaying slightly in time to the rhythm of the
"spell". Their eyes were riveted to the computer screen as the patterns
flashed and faded and metamorphosed constantly. Slowly the tempo increased
and the sounds seemed to assume an air of supplication, almost pleading.
Imperceptibly the lights in the apartment seemed to dim, until only the
light from the computer and the small LED's at the starpoints of the
pentagrams remained. With a tiny remaining rational portion of his mind Bob
noticed the fading light and dismissed it as most likely a result of his
concentration on the computer program.

After an indeterminate time, the chanting from the computer built to a
fever pitch and died abruptly with a final crescendo of sound. At the same
time the screen went black and the room was bathed in near total darkness
with just the tiny red light from the LED's creating a weird shadowy
universe of indistinct menacing shapes.

"Wow. Too weird." Bob felt a cold draft run up his spine and he shook
himself as if waking from a dream. "Must have blown a fuse. I'll check the
circuit breakers."

"Stop!!" Cathy nearly screamed before he could take a step. She continued
in a voice trembling with both terror and unbelieving awe, "Don't move a
muscle or you're doomed."

"Huh? What're you talking about?"

"Look where the computer was! And whatever you do, don't leave your
pentagram!"

Bob turned back to peer through the gloom at the center of the other
pentagram. His eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness and he made out a
swirling red tinged figure where his computer had been only seconds before.
It was in constant flux like a swirling gas, yet appeared to be solid. It
had the general outline of a person, but there was nothing human about it.

"What the hell is that?" Bob blurted.

"You should know, human, you summoned me here." said a voice dripping with
disdain from the strange apparition.

"Holy shit! It worked! I don't believe it!" Bob felt his heart hammering in
his chest.

"Believe it. You called, I'm here." the weird creature said.

"Is it... Are you... really..." Bob was having trouble accepting what his
senses were telling him.

"Am I really... what? Humans are so predictable. They always ask. I am what
your ancestors called a demon. You've trapped me here with your little toys
and now you get a wishes fulfilled so I can go free."

"A wish? We can wish for anything?" Bob remembered Cathy's caution about
how demons were tricksters. "And what do we have to give up in exchange?"

"No you can't wish for anything you stupid creature. My powers are limited.
I can't affect anyone or anything except what has summoned me and fed me.
So I can't make you rich and I can't make another love you. But I can alter
your own physical bodies --- quite a lot, in fact. In the past there has
never been sufficient energy remaining from a summoning to do more than
restore youth and health to those who summoned me, but your mechanical
devices seem to have provided a surfeit of power. In other words I can give
you the body you have always desired. And to answer your other question,
you don't have to give anything in exchange. No souls, no damnation.
Nothing."

"But then why do you grant wishes, what's in it for you? And why should we
trust you?" Bob asked, immediately suspicious.

"Let's just say that my kind exists on the chaos generated by human
emotions, among other things. Most of the time you never realize we're
around. But the energy pattern you created tonight charged my being with
incredibly more energy than normal --- you might say I'm bloated. It raised
my energy level to the point where my `body' has manifested itself in a
state which you can perceive with your physical senses. But this high
energy level is awkward for me and is capable of being manipulated and
constrained by the same mental-electromagnetic field which raised me to
this current level of energy. To make an analogy --- you have force fed me
so much that my belly has swollen to an enormous size, and now I can't move
from your pentagram unless I digest this energy and excrete it. Fulfilling
a wish will require expending some of the energy I have consumed, and thus
free me to go about my life. And, before you ask, your free will acceptance
of the energy is the only way to trigger my release. Once I have
accomplished that, my balance is restored and the force holding me here is
nullified, and I can go back to grazing on your emotions. Think of me as a
kind of mental symbiont."

"You mean you can't leave until you fulfill a wish?" Cathy asked.

"No. Didn't you listen? I have all this excess energy anchoring me here.
The only way I can discharge it is through your voluntary acceptance of it.
A wish, two wishes in fact, since each of you must accept the discharge for
symmetry. Otherwise I'm stuck here until my energy level dwindles -- which
could take years -- or there is a disruption in the magnetic field holding
me, such as a power failure or someone crossing one of the lines in the
pattern."

"Bob, we've got to do this --- there's no way we can wait him out in these
pentagrams. But be very careful what you wish for." Cathy cautioned.

It made a weird kind of sense, Bob had to admit. "Okay. What do we have to
do to get this over with then?" he asked the demon.

"Just close your eyes and picture in your head the kind of body you've
always wanted and I'll take care of the rest. You'll have to concentrate to
get exactly what you wish for."

Bob still wasn't sure he should trust this creature but the thought of
being able to change his fat unattractive body into a babe magnet was
extremely tempting. So he slowly closed his eyes.

"Good. Now just let your mind go blank," he heard the demon saying. "You're
both doing fine..."

Suddenly, inside his head he saw the whirling pattern of dots before his
eyes coalesce into the indistinct shape of the demon. It looked both ways
in a weird pantomime of checking to make sure they were alone and leaned
upwards and spoke in a stage whisper, "Okay, Bob, this is just between you
and me. Before you start picturing your perfect body, how'd you like to get
the chance to redesign your partner, old tight-ass over there?"

The demon gestured and Bob saw an image of Cathy in his mind, standing in
the middle of her pentagram, just as he'd last seen her before the demon
appeared. "You can make her into your dream girl if you want, it's up to
you."

"Why are you offering me this? I thought the spell was constraining you?
And I thought you could only affect my body, not someone else's." Bob asked
suspiciously.

"I told you we live off the energies generated by emotions. Well, I figure
this way will generate more emotion than if she gets her wish and becomes
some lesbian superwoman. As I said, I can't affect anyone except those who
summoned me --- but she is one of those who summoned me, her mind is
interwoven in the energy field. But your mind is very strong and your
mental image of what you want her to look like might be able to supersede
hers. I'll simply replace her mental image of her wish with your mental
image of your dream girl when I initiate the change."

"But what if my mental energy isn't strong enough?"

"Then no harm done, she gets the body she wished for and nobody's the
wiser. But if it works, you get your very own dream girl -- a total nympho
sex slave all your own!"

"Sex slave? You also said you couldn't make another love me." Bob
protested, still suspicious.

"I can't make her love you, idiot," the demon seemed to be getting
exasperated. "But I can give her new body a very high sex drive, extremely
sensitive to arousal. With you in your own Greek god incarnation, all
you'll have to do is whistle and she'll be eating out of her hands."

The offer was extremely tempting. Wouldn't it be great to have the girl of
his dreams and a great physique? Plus the demon had hit upon Bob's main
vanity --- that his mental abilities were better than any woman's. It was
every dateless dweeb's conviction that he was smarter than all those
attractive people having fun and partying. "Okay. I'll try it. What do I
have to do?"

"Just imagine the perfect woman. Let her take shape in your mind. I'll help
you hold the image once you picture it, then we'll fill in the details..."

Bob thought about all the Centerfolds he'd ever admired and all the pretty
women he'd seen. He saw a woman's shape take form in his mind and he began
picturing all the things he found sexy about a woman. Firm breasts, their
shape...yes, just like that... A small pert nose... Sexy creamy smooth
skin... Very long silky blonde hair... Long tapering fingers... Full
sensuous lips Shapely slender legs leading up to a round, firm ass The
image seemed to hold its form in his mind with no conscious effort on his
part, leaving him free to fantasize and edit each tiny detail without
trying to hold the entire picture in his head. Finally he seemed satisfied
with his fantasy woman and could think of no way to further improve her.

"That is what you want, Bob?" the demon asked, breaking into his fantasy.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want." Bob said lustfully, aroused by his own
mental imagery.

"Done!" said the demon in a booming voice.

Bob's eyes flew open just in time to be blinded as the demon's `body'
disappeared in a brilliant flash of light. He felt suddenly very dizzy then
everything went black.

2. Chapter

Bob woke to a bright light in his face. It was the sun glaring in his
apartment window. He was confused when he realized he was lying on the
floor in his living room. Why? Last night was a blank, but he didn't feel
hungover -- in fact he felt pretty good -- so why had he slept in his
clothes on the floor. He blinked a couple times and raised his arm to
shield his eyes from the sunlight. The sleeve of his flannel shirt hung
loosely on his arm and draped completely over his hand, very strange since
it normally fit snug on his forearms and came a bit short on his wrists.

He wrinkled his nose -- the whole apartment smelled of burnt plastic and
charred wood. Was there a fire? He propped himself up on one elbow to get a
better look at the room. The first thing he saw was the smoking puddle of
plastic that was all that remained of his computer. His computer! Fuck!
Encircling the ruined computer and crisscrossing the living room was a maze
of ugly black scorch marks on the hardwood floor. Shit, the landlord's
gonna be pissed, he thought.

As his sleep-dulled mind slowly considered the damage to the apartment,
memory of the previous night returned to him. With a feeling of dread he
bolted up to a sitting position and frantically swept the room with his
eyes.

"Cathy?!" he called. His voice sounded strange to him. He cleared his
throat and tried again, "Cathy, are you okay?"

His voice was still strangely high pitched, but he ignored it for the
moment, because he heard a low moan coming from behind him and to the left.
Like a hyper-alert sentry dog he whipped his head around to locate the
source of the moan. Something weird was happening, for he experienced an
unaccustomed sensation of weight from long hair swinging with the motion of
his head. Stranger yet, his vision was suddenly blocked by a curtain of
blond hair which flew over his eyes and across most of his face. He
reflexively reached up and managed to push most of the mass of hair back
from his face although several stray strands still hung over his eyes and
clung to his cheeks and mouth. But he ignored this distraction as he took
in the sight of the other person in the room.

Cathy was sprawled on the floor on the opposite side of the room. She was
on her side facing towards him. Her face was clearly visible and it was
definitely Cathy. But a Cathy who'd been transformed into a real beauty.
The differences were subtle except her hair -- which was much longer -- but
all combined they resulted in a haughty beauty. She was slimmer, perhaps
even a little taller, he guessed, based on how her ankles stuck out from
the legs of her jeans. Lovely as she was, Bob was disappointed, for she
wasn't the fantasy woman of his imagination that the demon had promised
him. Wait a minute, Bob thought with a sinking feeling, if Cathy has been
changed to look like that, then what about me - what do I look like?

With a feeling of unreality he reluctantly tilted his head downward to look
at himself. The first thing to catch his eye was a rich mass of long red
gold hair that spilled over his shoulders and fell down his chest and
almost reached his lap. As for other differences, he couldn't really see
much at first because he was practically swimming in his clothes. But the
fact that his clothes were so big on him was further verification his body
had definitely changed. He was accustomed to seeing his large belly
protruding over his belt, stretching the fabric of his shirt and straining
the buttons. Instead his clothes -- they were definitely the clothes he'd
worn last night -- hung on him like a parachute.

Wonderingly, he raised his arms from his lap to get a better look at them.
The sleeves were so long his hands were completely swallowed by them, as if
he were a little boy trying on his father's clothing. Awkwardly he pushed
one sleeve down to his elbow and stared in shock at the sight of his hand.
It was a woman's hand, slim and feminine with long delicate fingers. His
nails extended half an inch beyond the ends of his fingers. His wrist and
forearm were slender with almost no visible muscle tone and without a trace
of hair anywhere. He pulled back the sleeve on his other arm and ran his
hand over his skin, feeling how silky soft it was.

As he moved his arms around to look at them from all angles, he felt his
shirt slip off his right shoulder and slide down his upper arm. He always
wore the top three buttons open for comfort, and now the neck opening went
all the way down his arm to just above his elbow. Most of the right half of
his chest was now exposed, revealing hairless satin smooth skin tanned a
rich bronze where formerly there had been pasty white skin sparsely covered
with coarse hair. Although logically he should have been expecting it, he
was surprised by the swell of soft flesh which pushed outwards from his
chest and held up his shirt, preventing it from sliding the rest of the way
down to his waist. He grabbed his neckline with a hand once more mittened
inside his shirt sleeve and pulled his shirt away from the front of his
body. He was staring down at two large, gorgeous, womanly breasts!

"Ho-leee shit!" he breathed in a whisper as he stared down, openmouthed.

He sensed their weight on his chest now, or rather identified the sensation
as being caused by the weight of his... breasts - the concept that he had
breasts was still alien to him. Like the feel of his long hair, he'd
noticed many different sensations since waking but his brain was still in
the process of assimilating everything. And of course, even more than his
breasts, the area his brain had to do the most interpretation of new
sensations from was...

He reached down for his crotch, already knowing, and fearing, what to
expect. His hand brushed soft pubic hair - blonde he'd bet - and a pubic
mound. No cock. No balls. He gingerly inserted a finger past the outer lips
of his pussy and cautiously explored by touch. His new equipment was very
sensitive to his touch, was extremely sensitive in certain areas, similar
to how his cock had been sensitive all over but more so at the head than
the shaft, except this was even more intensely sensitive than even the head
of his cock. A wild thought went through his mind that this was his very
first time to actually touch a pussy - and it was his own!

Bob removed his finger from inside himself. He sat still, gently cupping
his smooth new pubic mound, as if to verify it was real. He mentally
reviewed everything he could remember about last night. Impossible as it
seemed, he had to accept the only obvious explanation for what had happened
to him. The fucking demon had changed him into his own fantasy woman. He
lightly stroked his downy pubic hair, that seemed proof enough to confirm
his conclusion. Just then Cathy shifted slightly in her sleep, reminding
him that he wasn't alone. Embarrassed, he removed his hand from his pants -
he didn't know how long he'd sat there with his hand on his crotch and he
surely didn't want Cathy to wake up and see him like that, she might get
the wrong idea about what he'd been doing.

He stood up and, in doing so immediately felt his body was more supple than
previously. His joints seemed to bend farther and it required much less
effort rising from the floor than it had just yesterday. As he rose he
unintentionally left his jeans and underpants behind him, they were a 48
inch waist and had been getting a bit tight on him, but now, impossibly
huge on his new body, they just slid down to his ankles. He stepped from
the pile of clothes, clad only in a shirt that fell down to mid-calf and a
pair of socks so loose they barely stayed on his feet.

Experimenting a bit with his new flexibility, he brought his leg up behind
him, bent at the knee, and twisted around and pulled the sock off, then
repeated it for the other sock. Never in a million years could he have done
that before! He stretched his arms out and bent over at the waist with his
knees straight and laid his hands flat on the floor. While still bent over
he hugged the backs of his legs and touched his cheek to his shins, and
held that position for a slow count of ten before he straightened up. He
couldn't believe how easy it was. He stretched up on his tiptoes and raised
his hands in the air, reveling in the feeling of vitality of his new body.
He felt light and energetic, and... well, he felt great, possibly better
than he'd ever felt in his entire life.

He tried to mentally catalog the differences in his body, other than the
obvious one. Throughout his contortions he kept being reminded of his
breasts. He might brush one with an arm unexpectedly, or feel the weight of
them hanging down from his chest when he bent over. That would take some
getting used to. So would his hair, he thought. It had weight - much more
than he would have thought. And whenever he moved his head or bent over it
got in his face. He never realized how much trouble long hair was for
women. Another obvious difference: he was much smaller now, but he wasn't
sure exactly how much.

He glanced upwards at the ceiling and it looked higher than normal. He used
to be able to reach up and touch it flatfooted. Now, even on tiptoe with
his arms straight up as high as he could reach, it seemed impossibly high.
He wasn't sure he could touch it at all, even if he jumped. He walked over
to the front door and looked up, he didn't think he could even reach the
top of the door jamb without jumping. Bookshelves against the wall which
had been eye level were now over his head. How much had he shrunk, he
wondered.

The clock on the wall chimed the hour and Bob was startled to see it was
two in the afternoon. If it was Wednesday then the demon had knocked them
out for over 12 hours. They only had four and a half more days until
everyone came back from Thanksgiving. He needed to figure out what he was
going to do, what he was going to tell his roommates, how to change himself
back, or how to deal with things if he couldn't. Well, first things first,
he thought. See if Cathy's okay, then we'll try to figure out what to do
next. God, I wonder how she's gonna take this?

He went over to Cathy and gently shook her. "Cathy? Cathy, wake up!"

She moaned softly and blindly tried to push his hands away. "I'm tired.
Gonna skip class. Go 'way."

"Come on Cathy! You have to wake up!" he shook her more urgently.

Her eyes flickered open, slowly focusing on his altered appearance, and she
suddenly tensed. "Where am I? And who the hell are you?"

"It's me -- Bob. Remember last night? The experiment for class? Something's
gone wrong. We've got to do something!" his voice sounded overly shrill to
his ears. Up to now he'd somehow remained relatively calm, probably due to
shock, but seeing the lack of recognition on Cathy's face seemed to make it
all so much more real, and he felt a rising panic.

"Bob?!" she looked at him like he was crazy, "Girl, I don't know who you
are but you're sure not Bob."

"It is me, Cathy! I swear! Think. Last night. That demon did this. It
changed me. It tricked me - just like you warned me."

"Demon..." Her eyes grew big and she gasped in sudden realization. She sat
up and momentarily glanced around in shocked disbelief at the havoc in the
living room. Then she turned back to Bob, skeptically studying his new
face, "Last night... I remember... the demon. But you say you're Bob? You
can't be Bob?"

"Yes I am! I told you, the demon changed me. If you don't believe me, then
look at yourself - it changed you too. Maybe not like it did me, but you
sure didn't look like this last night. Just look in the mirror and you'll
see what I mean."

With a look like she was humoring a maniac Cathy uncertainly got to her
feet and went into the bathroom to see herself. Bob followed and stood
beside her, both of them staring into the full length mirrored door of the
linen closet. He was seeing himself as a woman for the first time, but it
was a familiar reflection - he imagined this face nearly every time he
masturbated. He had the advantage of expecting to see himself as he now
was, even though it was still shocking and fascinating all at once. Cathy
had no such prior warning and could only stare at her new image in
slack-jawed amazement.

Cathy hadn't been ugly before, merely plain. Now however, she was lovely --
but still recognizably herself. It was as if someone had taken a photo and
airbrushed away all the imperfections. She was now slimmer with fuller
breasts and a narrow waist. Her face had been subtly altered with finer
features, giving her an aristocratic air. Her hair had always been coarse
and tended to frizz, necessitating that she keep it cut short. Overnight,
her hair had grown at least six inches and now it shone jet black, and lay
perfectly straight and silky sleek, with no hint of frizzies, in an elegant
blunt cut so it fell at her jawline. Her skin was flawless, milky pale
perfection which contrasted beautifully with her dark eyes and hair. Cathy
gasped in disbelief. It was as if all the tiny flaws she'd agonized over as
a teenager had been erased.

"This is just what I pictured in my head last night." She whispered while
putting a hand to her face, not quite sure if she were dreaming. "It's
real! I don't believe it! But it's real. This is exactly how I used to
imagine myself, I dreamed as a teenager that someday I'd grow up to look
like this. And it's real... I can touch my face... I can feel myself
touching my face... It must be true..." she sensed herself babbling and
stopped, self-consciously. Then the full implications hit her and she said,
doubtfully "then... you must really be Bob?" She spoke to Bob's reflection
in the mirror, totally awestruck by her own reflection and unwilling to
turn away from her idealized self for even a moment.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," he said softly.

"But... you're a woman... you look like a woman... are you?" she looked
more closely at Bob's image in the mirror.

He nodded, and said ruefully, "Completely. At least I think so."

"Then... let me get this straight... you wished for the demon to make you a
woman?!?!" she turned away from the mirror to look at him incredulously.

"Well... not exactly..." Bob wondered what he should tell her, then
realized she was the only one who could help him, so he decided to be
honest. "Um... like I said, the demon tricked me... you warned me about
that, I know, but I didn't listen."

"Tricked you? How?" Cathy was beginning to suspect something.

"Well... it offered me a chance... to umm... have some... input into how
I'd like you to look." Bob mumbled while watching Cathy's face for her
reaction.

She was silent for a moment, chewing over what he said. Then in a sarcastic
tone she said, "How you'd like me to look?"

"Umm... yeah, that's right," Bob replied meekly.

"You mean to say you thought you had the right to decide how I look? Of all
the arrogant..." Cathy was nearly sputtering, incoherent with rage. She
chopped off her tirade, made a visible effort to collect herself, then
leaned back against the sink and insolently looked at him, letting her gaze
slowly move from head to foot and back up again. Finally, in a voice filled
with scorn, she continued, "And you thought I wanted to look like that?!?!
A simpering little tart? A blonde bimbo whore? You've spent too much time
with centerfolds instead of real women. And that's where you belong now -
with a staple in your bellybutton. Ha! Well you got your wish, Asshole -
now you can live with it!"

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I was wrong. I guess I got what
I deserved." Bob felt himself wilting under Cathy's anger. His lip began
trembling uncontrollably, his chin was quivering, and he started to cry. He
was mortified to show such weakness; through many years of taunting and
slurs about his weight he'd never cried in front of anyone - he'd never
given them the satisfaction of seeing his pain - but now here he was
weeping like a baby, and he couldn't stop himself.

"Oh stop it. Tears won't help you now." Cathy tried to cling to her anger -
she felt justified - but she sensed his pain and her heart went out to Bob.
They'd become friends over the past months. He was basically a decent guy,
even if he was retarded when it came to women. He meant well. What he was
going through, well she just couldn't imagine the trauma of waking up as
radically changed as he was now. Finally she couldn't pretend aloofness any
longer and she put her arms around him and hugged him, feeling the sobs
wrack his body.

"It's okay. Shhhh." Cathy felt her anger drain away as Bob's tears soaked
her tee shirt. As she calmed down, she began to think more coherently and
guiltily remembered her own dealings with the demon last night. She'd
nearly been suckered just like Bob. "I'm sorry for yelling. I'm not mad
anymore. Calm down and listen to me a sec. I've got a confession. I was
offered the same chance as you -- to decide how you'd look. I was tempted
too. The only thing that stopped me was I kept thinking of all the stories
of how demons tricked people. So I was too scared to do anything but play
it totally straight and send that thing back to where it belonged."

Bob looked up at her. His big blue eyes were glistening and his cheeks were
streaked with tears. He searched her face, hopeful that she was truly
offering forgiveness. He sniffled once, then squeaked in a tiny voice,
"Really?"

Cathy smiled. "Really. If not for pure luck and me being scared out of my
head I might look like Antonio Sabato right now."

Bob grinned, feeling relieved she could joke about it. He wiped the tears
from his face and became very solemn. "I'm sorry Cathy. It was presumptuous
of me to think I could... well anyway, I'm sorry. You're a good friend for
understanding."

"No harm done... at least not to me. But we need to think about what we're
going to do with you." Cathy drew a deep breath and reluctantly continued,
"Much as the idea scares me, maybe we can run the spell again and change
you back? Unless... well, to be honest that demon scared the shit out of
me, and maybe it might be for the best if we didn't play with fire. You
might have fun being a woman..."

"Of course we have to change me back!" Bob was dumfounded that Cathy
apparently didn't see that was the only alternative. He sighed. "But, did
you get a look at the living room? My computer's hopeless - we need to get
a new one before we can rerun the program. And like an idiot I never made a
backup of the data for the demon program. Once I get a new computer it'll
take days to recreate everything - and I'm stuck like this till we do!"

As he spoke, Cathy looked at him standing there in a ridiculously oversized
shirt that hung down below his knees. She voiced her thought, "Well, if
you're gonna look like that for a few days, we need to get you something to
wear that you won't trip over." She studied him critically a moment, then
continued, "You're so tiny, I don't think I have anything to fit you. And
there's sure nothing of your own that will fit. You can't go out looking
like that... I should probably run out and pick you up something that you
can wear for now. Then, if we need anything more, we can go together and
you can try stuff on before we buy anything else."

Bob looked doubtful, how could she think about clothes at a time like this?
But he couldn't argue with her logic - he couldn't spend the next several
days wrapped in a sheet. "Okay... I guess. I suppose while you're gone I
can start cleaning up and see if anything's salvageable."

"Good idea. But first, we need to take your measurements so I can get your
size." She glanced at herself in the mirror appraisingly, pulled the
waistband of her jeans out, noted how much excess material she now had and
continued, "And while we're at it, you can help me check my new
measurements too. Maybe I'll buy something for myself that'll fit me a
little better."

"I suppose you're right. But do you need to go right this minute? We should
start working up an action plan on how to resolve this whole situation.
Going shopping seems a little trivial, don't you think?" Bob wanted her to
focus on the main issue and stop going off on irrelevant tangents.

"Yeah, right. You want an action plan, Bob? Okay, I can give you an action
plan. Step one, state the problem to be resolved. I'd say the problem to be
resolved is: that thing turned you into a woman! A naked woman who's
wandering around wearing a tent! You can't get into the University computer
center dressed like that. You can't go to the library. You can't go buy a
computer - which you need in order to change back. You can't even go pick
up a box of tampax, which if you dither around long enough you're gonna
need, Bob! So I say priority one is to get you something to wear so you can
take care of steps two, three and so on. Now it's the day before
Thanksgiving, Bob, and the stores will be closing down real soon and won't
reopen until Friday. So I think going shopping right now is a little more
than a trivial whim, Bob. Duh!" Cathy rolled her eyes.

Bob blushed and said meekly "I'll go find a measuring tape."

They took each other's measurements, weighed themselves and wrote it all
down. Bob was now just barely 5 feet tall, weighed all of 92 pounds and
sported a sexy 34-20-32 figure. He'd lost 16 inches of height and over 200
pounds. When Cathy read off his waist measurement Bob could hardly believe
it, his neck had used to be 20 inches! Cathy's measurements weren't as
drastically changed. She had grown an inch and a half taller to 5'11-1/2".
She'd lost nearly 30 pounds and now weighed 135. Her measurements were the
classic cliche 36-24-36, much better than yesterday's 34-28-38. She preened
in front of the mirror while Bob fussed with the tape, still not sure she
wasn't dreaming.

After they finished measuring, they stood side by side and looked at
themselves in the mirror. They made an interesting pair -- a study in
contrasts. Bob came up about even with Cathy's shoulders, she could rest
her chin on the top of his head. Cathy was long legged and svelte, with
full breasts but having the overall impression of slender elegance. Bob was
tiny and fragile looking, his bust measured two inches less than Cathy's
but appeared to be much larger on his small frame and minuscule waist. Even
their coloring was radically different. Cathy was pale, accented by
midnight black hair clipped in a precise coif with each strand naturally
falling exactly in place and eyes so dark and deep they promised mysteries
unimaginable. Bob was bronze, like he'd been working on the perfect tan all
his life, with sapphire blue eyes and golden blonde hair glinting with
coppery highlights that cascaded down to the small of his back in unruly
waves. Cathy's overall look was cool and polished, supermodel sleek,
sophisticated, and refined elegance. Bob's look was more winsome, playful
exuberance, wildly unbridled and wantonly sexual.

"Wow. You're gorgeous, Cathy" Bob broke the silence which had descended as
they stared at themselves.

"Don't you mean we are gorgeous, cutie? You make one sexy looking babe."
Cathy teased. "Now I better get going or we'll never get you anything to
wear."

                                   *****

Bob tried to do something constructive while Cathy was gone. He started
going through the mess on the table where his computer was. Everything was
ruined. It was so discouraging. The melted plastic from the computer had
even run all over their notes, like lava from a volcano and singed them so
badly he couldn't make out but one word in ten. The worst was when he pried
up a congealed blob of plastic and discovered the remains of Cathy's
Grimoire. Some chemical in the plastic must have reacted with the book. It
looked like someone had dipped the thing in acid. There was nothing left
but the frayed leather binding. The original spell was in that book. If
Cathy didn't have another copy then all was lost - they'd never be able to
recreate the summoning spell from memory.

It felt like the entire world had turned against him. It was all so
hopeless. Slowly Bob sank to the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest,
hugging his legs, laid his head on his knees and started to cry again.
After a while he was cried out. Strangely, he felt better. As if the
pressure of stress had all drained away. When he'd been male he used to
masturbate, whenever possible, if pressure got to him. Was he going to
start crying from now on? God, what is wrong with me, he thought. I can't
control my emotions. Is this what my life is going to be from now on?

He tried to put those thoughts out of his mind. He walked back to the
bathroom and washed his face. He stood leaning over the sink with water
dripping down his face mesmerized by his reflection. He was staring at the
face he fantasized about every time he masturbated. Even though he wasn't
feeling particularly aroused, curiosity got the better of him. He
straightened his body and shrugged off the shirt he was wearing -- not hard
to do - he just unbuttoned a couple top buttons, dropped his arms to the
side and wiggled his shoulders and the monstrously oversized garment
slithered down his body and puddled around his ankles. He took one step
forward, kicked the shirt behind him, and voila - nude blonde. He giggled -
talk about your fantasies coming to life!

He stared at himself in the full length mirror. There was less shock, more
familiarization in his examination now. He wasn't yet comfortable with his
new appearance but he no longer felt totally in denial either. He studied
himself more like someone experimenting with combing his hair differently
than someone who'd woken up to find his head shaved bald.

He tried imitating some of the things he enjoyed watching women do. Tossing
his head to see his hair fly about. Standing profile on tiptoes to see how
his ass and legs looked. Leaning over to watch how his breasts hung and
jiggled on his chest. Cocking his head to one side and smiling seductively.
Blowing air kisses. Posing with one hand on hip, one leg slightly cocked.
Soon he was posing more and more provocatively. He felt silly, exhilarated,
and a little embarrassed, all at once, and was also starting to feel a
little turned on. As he continued posing, his touch on his skin became more
languorous. He began touching himself more for the pleasurable sensations
he was eliciting than for the visual impact of the poses. Before long, he
stopped posing altogether and simply stood still and caressed his body.

Slowly Bob traced the outline of his breasts with his fingertips. God, that
felt so good! He cupped them in his hands and felt their weight. The skin
was soft and satin smooth. He gently stroked his nipples with just the tips
of his index fingers. Oh! He felt his nipples crinkle - hard. He'd felt a
similar sensation of arousal when he'd been a man and had curiously played
with his own nipples, but that wasn't even close to this powerful feeling.
His knees grew weak and he felt a stirring in his crotch. He traced his
right hand down his belly, savoring the downy softness of his new skin, and
lightly brushed his silky pubic hair. Feather soft he grazed the outer
folds of his new sex with the tips of his first and second fingers. It was
too much -- he moaned aloud, aching with desire. His nipples grew even
stiffer, as if they would burst. Bob felt overwhelmed with sensations which
were vaguely familiar, similar to male arousal, but also different,
strangely wonderful and enticing. With an urgency akin to penile erection
his new vagina seemed to swell and blossom, tingling, ultra-sensitive,
straining for a touch, impelling him to...

DING DONG!

"Oh shit!" Bob moaned in frustration. He guiltily snatched his hands away
from his body and tried to calm his breathing and slow his pounding heart.
Cathy was back awfully early, she probably forgot something.

DING DONG! DING DONG!

"Hold on, I'm coming!" He called, irritated. "Well, I almost did," he
muttered to himself.

He looked around for something to put on so he could answer the door. The
last thing he wanted was to give the neighbors a thrill. He rejected the
shirt he'd just taken off as way too big -- likely to slip open and reveal
his newly acquired charms to anyone in the parking lot. Cathy was right,
all his old clothes would be like wearing a tent, so he decided to look for
something in his roommate's room. Jim was in much better shape than Bob had
been and might have something that he could wear in a pinch. Jim was a
men's medium as compared to Bob's 4Xlarge. Jim wouldn't mind if he borrowed
his clothes Bob reasoned, they were best friends and he'd have done the
same for Jim if ever he was suddenly turned into a woman by a demon.

On top of the bed was a basket of clean laundry. Bob grinned, it was so
typical of Jim to do laundry before going to visit his parents, Jim was too
considerate for his own good. Quickly he rummaged through the
clothes-basket and came up with a yellow tank top that Jim used for
running. It was loose on Jim so it should fit his new body almost like a
dress. He pulled it over his head, glanced in the bureau mirror and saw
that he was 'decent' -- barely. It came pretty high on his thighs, and his
breasts were rather prominently displayed, but there wasn't time to look
for anything better. Besides, he'd be changing into the clothes Cathy
brought once he opened the door for her.

DING DONG! DING DONG! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"I said I'm coming!" Bob yelled. Exasperated, he stomped over and yanked
open the door without bothering to check the peephole. "What the hell's the
rush..." his angry comment trailed off when he saw who was at the door.

Leaning against the door frame with his back mostly turned so he was facing
the parking lot was Brad Franklin. Brad was everything Bob had not been as
a man. He was handsome, self-assured, athletic, rich, and had a way with
the ladies - he seemed to always have a gorgeous woman hanging on him. He
and his friends were the social elite on campus. They belonged to the best
fraternity, drove the hottest cars, threw the wildest parties, and fucked
the most beautiful women. Bob hated him. He lived in the next apartment
over and saw Bob all the time, yet hardly even acknowledged his existence.
He'd drive past Bob walking to class and never offer him a ride, even when
it was raining. The only time he ever spoke to Bob or any of his roommates
was when he'd throw one of his parties and come over to bum some ice.

In no hurry, as if he was accustomed to people waiting on him, he
straightened up and began turning toward Bob. "I was afraid you'd all gone
for the holiday. Hey, man, I need some..." He paused and broke into a wide
grin as he got his first look at the new and improved Bob. His eyes
leisurely wandered downward, oozing over Bob's body, gliding down his legs
to his bare feet, then crawled back upward and came to rest squarely on his
breasts. "...n-i-i-i-i-i-c-e... No, Ice. I mean. I need some ice. Got any?"

With Brad's attention so obviously focused on his chest, Bob became acutely
aware of how stiff his nipples were and how they pushed out the thin fabric
of the tank top. He also remembered how flushed and excited he looked in
the mirror just before he came to answer the door. Realizing how he must
appear to Brad, Bob blushed deeply, let go the door knob and
self-consciously brought his arms up to hug his chest.

Brad grinned even wider as he watched Bob's reaction, obviously
interpreting it as appreciation for his own manly form. When Bob released
the door to cover his breasts Brad, ever opportunistic, took advantage of
this to push the door open a bit wider and take a step across the
threshold, thus preventing Bob from closing the door. "Hi, I'm Brad, I live
next door. You're new. I thought three guys lived here... Jim... and um...
Scott... and... Bob? I've never seen you before." He flashed a friendly
smile and offered his hand in greeting.

Reflexively, Bob reached out his hand and said, "I'm Bob... uh... Bob's
sister... Bob's sister... uh... Robyn. Yah, Bob's sister, Robyn. Nice to
meet you, Brad." Smooth, very smooth, Bob mentally kicked himself for being
an idiot.

Before he realized what was happening Brad had taken his hand, but not in a
normal handshake as Bob expected. He enfolded Bob's fingers and held them
loosely, horizontally, as though he were about to raise Bob's hand to his
lips and kiss it. Bob had never realized before the subtle difference in
the way a man takes a woman's hand - and how it made the woman feel vaguely
vulnerable - it was not the handshake of equals. Flustered, Bob blushed all
the more, and tried to draw back his hand. But Brad squeezed his fingers
lightly and held on with just enough pressure to prevent Bob from
graciously withdrawing his hand. Unconsciously, Bob's free arm had dropped
to his side to counterbalance the extension of his right arm, so he stood
there feeling awkward and trapped, his right hand captured by Brad while
his left hand fluttering ineffectually near the hem of his tank top.

"Very nice to meet you, Bob's sister Robyn. You have lovely... hands." As
he spoke these words, his gaze moved from their joined hands up to Bob's
breasts -- which were barely concealed by the thin cotton tank top.

3. Chapter

Cathy strolled idly through the mall looking in the store windows, but her
mind wasn't on the displays. She kept worrying over the situation with Bob.
She was troubled about how to handle him. A part of her saw it as poetic
justice that he should have to live as his own male fantasy. But he was
also a victim of how society treated unattractive people. If he hadn't been
shunned all his life then he might have a more realistic conception of
women.

At first she'd thought of him only as a dweeb and just barely tolerated
him. But she learned Bob was more than just a dweeb. He was a smart, kind,
generous guy. Once you got past his outer facade he was like a puppy just
aching for affection. As they'd grown closer Cathy had begun to gain
insight into how Bob ticked. Based on things he'd said and his general
attitude Cathy knew he regarded most women, especially pretty ones, as less
intelligent, good for little more than sex objects. But in reality, despite
his male arrogance he was afraid of women, and possibly hated them, hated
the power they had to hurt him. He envied the way everything seemed to just
happen so easily for attractive women. At least that's how Cathy reasoned
it would appear to Bob, but she knew there was a price to be paid for
everything.

In spite of his attitude toward women she'd grown to like Bob, once he
loosened up enough to be himself around her. Cathy was the only woman who
Bob felt comfortable with, the only woman who didn't instantly turn him
into a quivering, sweaty, tongue-tied dork. Which is why she felt so
offended when she learned he tried to transform her into one of the
brain-dead sex objects he expressed such disdain for. She felt betrayed by
him. Yet in a weird way it was almost a compliment that he'd want to give
her his own version of beauty. Even though she was pissed, he was still her
friend and she wanted to help him. It was a hell of a dilemma and she still
hadn't resolved how she was going to deal with it. In fact, while it was
true that getting clothing was a priority, the main reason she suggested
this shopping expedition was to give her some time alone to think things
through.

She was of two minds about how to treat Bob now. It would be so satisfying
to punish him. Shock him. Rub his nose in his new femininity. Maybe dress
him up slutty and dump him at a biker bar. Let him deal with the nasty side
of being female in a man's world with no help from her. But she also felt
inclined to make things easy for him, he had enough stress just looking in
a mirror without her adding to his problems. The big unknown factor in her
reasoning was how long Bob would have to live as a woman before they could
change him back, if they could even do so - the spell had worked once but
there were no guarantees it would work again. The one thing you could rely
on when dealing with the supernatural was that you couldn't really rely on
anything. Plus there was an added factor of danger if they succeeded -
would the demon be angry and maybe do something worse if they bothered it a
second time? It might be for the best if Cathy did all she could to get Bob
to accept his new womanhood and get on with his life. As a bonus, if he
ever did change back to a man, he might have a better attitude towards
women after having lived as one.

Cathy had been careful in picking out stuff for him to wear, deciding to go
low key on his wardrobe. She bought him a pair of jeans, and a rather plain
cotton ribbed top from the Gap as well as some socks and a pair of Reeboks
from Lady FootLocker. So far she'd resisted the urge to pick out anything
that might freak him out as being too sexy or feminine. She'd also picked
up a new pair of jeans for herself. She adjusted her bra strap and realized
she needed a new bra, thanks to her own transformation the one she had on
was pinching her something awful. She figured she'd also need to pick up
some panties and a bra for Bob, no matter how weird wearing women's
underwear might feel to him he couldn't be expected to wear jockey shorts
on his new form.

She looked at a display of casual evening wear. This store, like all the
others, had a sign announcing their upcoming "Fabulous After Thanksgiving
Sale!" She toyed with the notion of dragging Bob here on Friday and getting
him decked out in a sexy miniskirt. Then she caught a glimpse of her own
much improved reflection in the store's window. All her life she'd been a
conservative dresser. A realist when it came to her looks, she never
embarrassed herself by trying to be something she wasn't, preferring to go
for an 'interesting' rather than a sexy look. But she'd sometimes
daydreamed about having the kind of body that could wear revealing clothes
and be the center of attention. Now she had the body, but old habits die
hard, and she was hesitant to try anything that might be too flashy. She
put the thought aside and walked on to the next storefront. In this window
there was a rather daring bodysuit on display. She paused, idly wondering
what it might feel like to wear something so form-fitting.

"Cathy?" a man's voice broke into her thoughts, "Is that you?"

She turned and saw Greg Ewing staring at her uncertainly. Greg and she had
lived in the same dorm her freshman year. They shared many common interests
and had become good friends. Cathy had always harbored a secret crush on
him but she'd never pursued it, he had a girlfriend back home. Later, after
he broke up and became available she'd been reluctant to risk their
friendship by voicing her feelings. So she'd watched in silent frustration
as he became involved with an Economics major. After freshman year they
drifted apart when they were assigned to different dorms. He was pre-Law,
her major was Anthropology, so they had no classes together and almost
never bumped into each other on campus.

"Greg!" Cathy smiled broadly, enjoying the look of pleased astonishment on
his face.

"It is you! Wow! You look great! How've you been?" He hugged her warmly
then held her out at arms' length to look at her again.

"Thanks, I feel great!" She posed coquettishly, hand on hip, other arm
raised in imitation Vanna White flourish.

Greg clutched his heart and laughed. He was quite good looking with dark
hair and a lean athletic build. His face was clean shaven with a strong
chin and roman nose. His eyes were gray and very intense. When he was
talking with someone he focused on them alone, very direct and frank. This
quality made you feel he was sensitive and honest and deeply interested in
what was being said, and Cathy had always found it endearing.

"So how come you're still in town? I thought you'd be home for
Thanksgiving... or maybe visiting Susan?" Cathy fished for news on his
relationship with the Econ major.

"Sue and I broke up last spring," he said casually, tossing it off as
totally unimportant. "And I'm bagging the holiday this year. I decided to
hang around town. Sort of depressurize and get ready for the big push into
finals. Besides, I'm going to get enough bad advice on Law Schools from my
uncles over Christmas - I don't need it dished up for Thanksgiving dinner
too. What about you? What are you doing here, instead of home with your
parents?"

"What am I doing here? Oh.... Thinking about buying that catsuit." She
grinned and teasingly pointed to the window display. God, she was flirting
like a schoolgirl! She was feeling a thrill of possibilities opening before
her. "He's not seeing anyone!" kept echoing in her mind.

"Cool! That would look so hot on you! I can't get over how fabulous you
look, Cathy." He smiled appreciatively, all but drooling over her.

She blushed at the compliment, then changed the subject. "Actually I'm
staying on campus over the holiday too. I've got a project due and my
partner and me need to get some work done... but... we probably won't be
working the whole weekend..." She hesitated a moment, letting the hint
dangle hoping he'd decide to go for it.

"Well, if you're not busy maybe we could get together? Get caught up with
each other. That'd be great wouldn't it? It's been too long." He paused a
moment, as if considering taking a chance, then plunged ahead. "In fact,
some friends of mine were talking about taking a break and getting a beer
this evening down at the MouseTrap. If you get a chance, why not stop by?"

Cathy considered his offer a moment. Greg obviously didn't want to pressure
her, he was keeping it cool by not making it seem like a date. But the
MouseTrap was the local meet market and she always felt out of place there.
She sure didn't relish the idea of having to fight off a bunch of losers
while looking around for Greg. And if something came up and he didn't make
it she didn't want to be stuck there all alone. But she didn't want to
totally blow him off either, she might not get another opportunity. Then
she remembered Bob, they could go together, she knew she could convince him
to go with her -- he owed her.

"I'll check with my partner, maybe we'll take a study break tonight too."

"Great! I'll look for you. But I gotta run right now, I'm late. Cathy, I
can't tell you how fantastic it is to see you again." He hugged her once
more, and started off into the mall. After a few steps he turned back
around. Walking backwards he called in parting, "I can hardly wait for
tonight! See ya!"

Cathy waved and smiled as Greg walked away. She was thrilled with how he
reacted to seeing her. She wanted to jump up and down and squeal and laugh
out loud, but she restricted herself to a little twirl and a half whispered
"Yesss!" Now she had to think about what to wear tonight, the jeans she'd
just bought were practically the only thing she owned that fit properly.
Jeans were okay but she had an urge to go totally wild to impress Greg. And
if she went for all out gorgeous, she'd need to pick out something more
than jeans for Bob too. In her giddy happy state she blew off her original
plan of keeping Bob's wardrobe low-key so as not to shock him. Wickedly,
she thought what an experience it would be for him to get a taste of how it
felt to be a lust object.

The bodysuit in the window caught her eye again. On impulse she entered the
store, practically dancing.

                                   *****

Brad looked around the living room and joked "Wow, must have been some
party. Remind me never to use your decorator."

"Oh. Yah. Well... it's the maid's day off... you know how hard it is to
find good help." Bob cringed at his lame come-back.

Bob was totally at a loss. He stood paralyzed with indecision as Brad held
his hand possessively and openly stared at his breasts. In his entire life
he had no experience to draw on for a situation like this. Previously,
whenever Bob had any interaction with a woman it had always felt like she
had complete control, she could freeze him out or accept his conversational
overture at her whim. Now, he was a woman and still he felt overwhelmed. It
was a matter of self-confidence, Brad was sure of himself to the point
where he didn't seem to consider rejection as a possibility. Bob knew this
intellectually. But knowing it didn't change the fact that he felt himself
swept along by Brad's self-assured commanding personality.

"So, Robyn, how come I haven't seen you before? Is this your first visit
with your brother?"

Bob's mind floundered for a simple cover story, he might be like this for
some time and he needed to explain his presence. "Um... actually, I'm
thinking about transferring here from Community College. So I'll be staying
around for a bit to check out the campus."

"Really? Well, if you need a tour guide, I'd be happy to show you around.
That is... if your brother's too busy. Where is he anyway?"

"My brother? Oh... he had to... go away. Something came up back home and he
needed to... take care of it."

"Oh? Then you're all alone for the holiday?" Brad openly made a show of
looking in the direction of the bedrooms as if to see if anyone else was in
the apartment.

"Well... just now. But I'm expecting a friend any minute." Bob felt
suddenly very vulnerable, reminded again of how the thin tank top he was
wearing concealed very little of his new body.

"Then we should use that time to get to know each other while you wait,"
Brad said with an ingenuous grin. He gently steered Bob over to the sofa.

Bob had the presence of mind to carefully smooth his shirt underneath him
as he sat down. He kept his knees together while he lowered himself to the
couch, then cautiously crossed his legs to prevent any inadvertent beaver
shots. He tugged on the hem of his shirt, attempting to pull it further
down his thighs. All the while he was intensely aware of Brad's eyes
watching every move he made.

Brad slowly began to draw Bob out. He had a practiced wit and disarming
charm. Bob was experiencing first hand what so many other women before him
had, Brad was employing the full force of his personality to make Bob feel
at ease. Never in his life had anyone paid so much attention to him. Bob
was totally defenseless against Brad's flirtatious flattery and attempts to
amuse him. It was a heady experience and Bob soon found himself giggling at
Brad's jokes and feeling clever himself thanks to the way Brad seemed to
enjoy his feeble attempts at humor.

Brad sat close to Bob. Too close for Bob's hyper alert senses. Bob could
feel the heat radiating from Brad's thigh as it occasionally brushed his
own. He somehow managed not to flinch the first time Brad touched him,
which he seemed to do often. He would compliment Bob on his hair and reach
up to lightly stroke it, or make a joke and gently brush Bob's forearm or
the back of his hand to signal the punchline. The touches weren't overtly
sexual, or even overly familiar, but Bob felt each one almost as an
electric shock. He was more used to the unconscious space maintained by two
men talking, or the even greater distance which he kept when talking to a
woman. But Brad was relaxed with the intimacy, as if it were natural and
expected. And as they continued talking, Bob found himself feeling more
comfortable with each casual touch.

Bob heard someone at the door and glanced at the clock, surprised to see
they'd been talking for over an hour. In very short order Brad had somehow
maneuvered him into a friendly, even flirtatious mood. Yesterday Brad
wouldn't have given him the time of day, and now here he was virtually
dripping charm and friendliness. Bob would never have believed how much he
was enjoying himself.

The front door swung open and Cathy came clattering into the apartment
loaded down with more than a dozen shopping bags. She came in backwards,
having pushed the door open with her hip while she struggled with the
packages.

"Hey! I'm back!" she yelled over her shoulder, "Guess what? We're going to
the 'Trap tonight so we gotta hurry and get ready... Oh! Why Brad Franklin,
as I live and breathe... what are you doing here?" Cathy shot a scathing
'what-the-hell's-going-on?' look toward Bob.

While Bob was still collecting his thoughts, Brad smiled at Cathy, slightly
confused that she apparently knew him, and said, "Hi. I'm sorry, I know I
should remember meeting someone as lovely as you but..."

"We never actually met. I was Beth Simpson's roommate in sophomore year."

"Oh. Beth! Nice girl. How's she doing?" Brad seemed pleasantly interested.

"She's fine... now." Cathy answered, deadpan.

"Good. Good. Anyway... um... it's nice to meet you, uh...?"

When Cathy remained silent several heartbeats, Bob suddenly came to life,
breaking the mounting tension. "Cathy... this is Brad. Brad, Cathy. She's a
... um... friend of my brother."

"Yes... a friend of your brother. So. Well Brad, I hate to be rude but
you'll have to excuse me and... me and... you'll have to excuse us girls.
We've got lots to do. Another time, perhaps." Cathy dumped her shopping
bags in a pile then stood expectantly holding the door for Brad.

Brad stood up. "Oh I should be going anyway. Nice to meet you Cathy. And so
very nice to meet you, Robyn. Maybe I'll see you tonight... you did say you
were going to the MouseTrap?"

Cathy narrowed her eyes at Brad. "Yah. Maybe. Anyway... um... Robyn. We
really do need to get busy."

"Well, ladies until later." Brad leaned down and took Bob's hand again,
giving it a farewell squeeze. He nodded to Cathy and walked out.

"What the hell was that about?" Cathy blurted as soon as the door closed.

"He... um... dropped by to borrow ice and we just got to talking." Bob
said.

"Well, he's trouble. Big time."

"Oh, I don't know. I used to think he was a major asshole too. But once you
get to know him, he's actually kind of... nice." Bob blushed, remembering
the feel of Brad's hand stroking his hair.

"Well he really pulled a number on my roommate. So you better watch your
ass around him cause I guarantee that's all Mr. Brad Franklin is interested
in... a piece of ass."

"Stop worrying Cathy. No way is something like that going to happen to me!
I'm a guy, for godsakes."

"Just remember what I said... Robyn. Nice choice of name, by the way. I
like it, it suits you."

"Spur of the moment," Bob said. "I can't go around calling myself 'Bob' and
'hey you' is just too lame. But forget that for right now, this is more
important: that old book of yours, with the original spell... the Grimoire?
I found it, or what's left of it. It's totally trashed. I was hoping maybe
you had another copy?"

"Oh shit." Cathy paused, thinking rapidly. She could kick herself for not
making copies. The Grimoire was a one of a kind, something she'd stumbled
across in a tiny shop in Italy. In all her studies of the occult, she'd
never seen or heard of any other source that was so accurate and complete.
If she told Bob the book was irreplaceable he'd totally freak. She'd have
to let him adjust to his new situation before she gave him the bad news.
"That's bad... but... we can probably find enough different references in
the library and some shops I know to piece together the spell."

"Well... that's a relief. But how long do you think that could take?" Bob
hadn't a clue as to what reference works were available on subjects as
arcane as black magic or witchcraft.

"I dunno. I have to be honest... it could be a while, Bob." Cathy hedged.

Well, then I guess we need to start researching. Maybe we can make a list
of references to start?"

"Bob, Bob, Bob. The library won't be open tomorrow, it's Thanksgiving. All
that can wait. Besides, as I started to tell you earlier, we're going out
tonight. It'll do you some good, get your mind off... things."

"Out? Where?" Bob was thinking desperately how to get back into a male body
and hadn't caught on to Cathy's change of subject.

"I ran into an old friend at the mall and he asked me to meet him tonight
at the MouseTrap. I can't go alone so I figured I'd take you with me." Her
voice assumed a wheedling tone of appeal.

"I dunno Cathy..." Bob hesitated, "Go to a place like the 'Trap... looking
like this?"

"Oh come on, Bob. I really need you to do me this favor. I even bought you
something special to wear tonight. You're gonna love it. It'll be fun,
trust me."

"Well..."

Cathy sensed Bob was wavering, so she plowed on ahead. She decided her best
bet would be to give Bob no options. Just act like it was already decided
and he'd better follow along with her or else. She rummaged through the
pile of bags she'd dumped on the floor until she found what she wanted.

"Here's the outfit I picked out for you to wear tonight." Cathy handed a
flat red box to Bob. "Go ahead, open it."

Bob hefted the box, slightly puzzled at how light it felt. This couldn't
contain an entire outfit. He opened the box, unfolded the tissue paper
lining and saw shiny black fabric. He stroked the material with his
fingertips and felt soft sensuous silk. He lifted the garment from the box,
marveling at how insubstantial it seemed.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a dress, silly," Cathy took it from him, and held it up by two thin
straps. Now Bob could see that it was indeed a dress. A very small dress.

"I can't wear something like that... that... little scrap!" he protested,
"I've seen bigger handkerchiefs."

She ignored his protests, and chattered on cheerfully as if he hadn't said
a word. "It's called a slipdress. Some girls wear a tee shirt underneath,
but you don't need to -- you've got the body for it, so why not flaunt it."

Bob stared at her like she was insane. He shook his head vehemently, at a
loss for words.

Cathy grinned wickedly, "Don't be such a chicken... Robyn. Every girl needs
a little black dress. That's the First Commandment of Fashion. You'll drive
the guys wild in this. Don't you even want to see what it looks like on
you?"

"No! If you think I'm wearing that, you're nuts." He was all but shrieking
now.

Bob was starting to get hysterical. She needed to get control of the
situation. It was for the best, she rationalized, he needed to come to
grips with his new life and going out tonight would be a first step. Cathy
played her trump card. "Well, it's this or nothing, girlfriend. But either
naked or wearing this dress you'd better be planning on coming with me
tonight. If you won't do this one little thing for me then you can forget
about any help from me from now on."

Bob sighed, feeling defeated. Events were just moving way too fast for him.
"If you put it that way, what choice do I have?"

"Atta girl!" Cathy steered Bob toward the bedroom. "You'll have fun, you'll
see. Now let's start getting you ready for your debut."

4. Chapter

Cathy directed Bob to peel off Jim's tank shirt and disappeared into the
bathroom. Bob heard the sound of a bath being run. In a few moments, Cathy
was back. She looked critically at the unruly blonde mane flowing down
Bob's back. "I don't think there's time to mess with a shampoo. Do you have
any clean bandannas?"

Bob got her a large patterned workman's handkerchief. She took it and began
collecting Bob's long hair up in a massive coil. Using the bandanna she
tied his hair up on top his head and seemed satisfied. Then she ushered him
into the bathroom, where the tub was mostly filled.

"Try not to get your hair wet. And don't take too long getting washed, it's
after seven already." Cathy bustled out, evidently to start other
preparations.

Bob eased down into the steamy water. He couldn't remember the last time
he'd had a bath instead of a shower. The hot water was just what he needed.
He could feel the tension seeping from his body. So relaxing. He could stay
here forever.

"I don't hear washing," Cathy called from the other room after a few
minutes.

Bob considered briefly how tempting it would be to drown her. Then he
sighed, resigned himself to going along with her for now, and looked around
for soap and washcloth.

"What'd you do with the soap?" he complained.

"Oh! I forgot," Cathy came down the hall and tossed a box at him. "I picked
this up for you today. Use it instead of soap, it's good for your skin."

Bob caught it and saw it was Oil of Olay body wash. He opened the box and
found a pink plastic scrubbie and a tube of liquid soap. He experimentally
poured some in his palm. It was thick, not quite a gel, and had a fragrant
smell. Feeling a bit self-conscious at using something so obviously
feminine, he poured some on the scrubbie and began washing himself. The
liquid foamed up to a thick lather as soon as he started working it over
his body. He couldn't help but luxuriate in the feeling of the warm suds
sliding all over his skin. He rubbed his breasts, gently massaging them,
enjoying the sensual feelings so much that he slipped into almost a
hypnotic state. After several minutes he realized what he was doing and
reluctantly stopped. Now overly self-conscious about the feelings he was
arousing, he finished washing as quickly as possible. When it came time to
wash his pussy he perfunctorily made a couple quick swipes through his
pubic hair, and figured that was good enough.

Once he'd washed all over, he dunked himself up to his chin to rinse off,
then stepped out of the tub. There was a slick sheen of residue covering
his entire body. He assumed this was the moisturizing agent in the body
wash. It didn't bother him, on the contrary it felt pretty good. His skin
seemed even softer than before the bath. He stroked his skin, savoring the
feeling of being clean and fresh. He grabbed a towel and rubbed himself
mostly dry, wrapped it around himself and went out to find Cathy.

Once in the bedroom, Cathy had Bob finish drying off then she proceeded to
dress him as if he were a mannequin. She had him stand in the middle of the
room where she had room to move around. She directed him to face the
dresser mirror and said, "You'll need to learn to do all this yourself if
you spend much time in this body, but we've got lots to do to get ready
tonight so just relax and let me help."

First she pulled out a tiny bit of black fabric and handed it to Bob. He
looked at it a moment, completely confused.

"They're panties, silly. Put them on. Make sure you get the little cotton
strip in the front, that's supposed to go over your crotch."

Hesitantly Bob pulled the tiny panties up his legs. The material was
slippery satin except for a small patch of cotton lining sewn on the inside
right where it would lay against his pussy. The leg openings were cut very
high on the sides, with thin elastic straps that rode above his hips, then
dipped down in front to support a tiny swatch which barely covered his
pubic hair. The back was nothing more than a strip that slipped between the
cheeks of his ass - butt floss as he used to call it when he and his male
buddies would critique the photo spread in the latest Playboy. He felt
uncomfortable and overly conscious of the strip riding between his ass
cheeks and had to constantly resist the urge to tug at them and adjust how
they fit at his butt.

Cathy watched him a moment, squirming and clenching his ass muscles. She
grinned devilishly and teased, "Kind of feels like having a wedgie doesn't
it? It's called a thong, Robyn. We don't want any pantylines showing under
that sexy dress, now do we?"

Next she took a black satin bra and wrapped it around him, hooking it in
the back. It was a strapless type, with half cups that pushed his breasts
together and upwards. It felt strange, a little uncomfortable and
constrictive around his chest, but his breasts also felt restrained and
supported, less bobbly.

"I got you a size 34-D. I think you're a bit large for a C cup like I wear
now. The style with these little half cups is called a demi cup. This
strapless version is only for evening wear, so you won't have to worry
about your bra strap showing. It's not as comfy as a regular bra but it's
the price we pay for elegance. You'll get used to it, Robyn." Cathy
cheerfully explained, as she tugged on the bra to get it adjusted just so.

Bob was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by all the little fashion
lessons Cathy delivered with each new article of clothing. He also noticed
she seemed insistent on calling him 'Robyn' even though they were in
private now.

Cathy reached round from behind and circled his waist with a black lace
garter belt. The elastic material hugged his waist just at the level of his
navel with four suspender straps dangling down onto the swell of his hips.
Bob didn't offer any complaint as she snapped it closed in back, he felt
totally drained of resistance.

"Garter belts can be a real pain at times, Robyn. They're so awkward and
inconvenient. But we have to remember how sexy men think they look on a
girl." Cathy winked at him in the mirror.

"Now sit on the bed and put these on," she handed him a package of black
thigh highs. "Be careful. You need to bunch them up at the toe and slide
them up your legs slowly, kind of tugging them into place as you go. But
not too hard or you'll snag them."

Bob did as he was told, carefully sliding the nylons up his legs. His long
fingernails made the task more difficult. He was still getting used to how
he had to grip things with the pads of his fingers instead of the tips, and
he was a little disturbed to notice how it tended to make his gestures
appear more feminine, 'swishy' even. Weird how even the simplest things
were so different for a woman. Once he finished smoothing the little
wrinkles out the hosiery fit snugly, clinging tightly along the entire
length of his leg, yet at the same time it was insubstantially thin and
almost seemed to heighten the sensitivity of his legs. It was a very
sensuous feeling when he slid one leg against the other.

Cathy noticed how he slowly ran his hands up from his ankles to the tops of
his stockings when he was finished. She smiled knowingly. "They feel sexy,
don't they, Robyn? Even though they're a bother and you're lucky if you get
more than two days' wear before they run, they still make you feel sexy as
hell. And if you like the way they feel now, just wait till you try making
love with nylons on Robyn." She laughed as Bob blushed crimson at that
notion.

"Okay, stand up and hook up the garter straps," Cathy ordered. She pulled
the suspender straps through the leg openings of Bob's panties before
clamping each stocking top with the garter's little sliding tab and loop
arrangement. Bob hadn't given it a lot of thought before but he was smart
enough to realize this allowed him to remove his panties to use the
bathroom without undoing the garters.

Cathy now took Bob by his hand and led him over to his desk. "Sit down,
I'll fix your hair in a few minutes. But first I'm going to try on my party
outfit. While I'm dressing, you can do your nails."

Bob looked up at her in amazement. He thought he had been incredibly
good-natured to go along with her crazy plan up to now. To his mind he was
being done up like a whore on payday. But expecting him to put on nail
polish seemed to be going way too far. But there was Cathy standing over
him, holding out a little bottle of bright pink enamel. He took it from her
numbly and read the label: "Revlon Hushabye Rose".

"That color's perfect for you, don't you think Robyn? Now you need to be
patient to get your nails just right, it's not as easy as you might think.
You'll probably have an easier time of it if you rest your palm flat on the
desk to keep steady. First put on a coat of clear polish, that'll smooth
out any ridges in your nails. Then put on a couple coats of the pink. Be
careful or you'll make a mess. Don't try to use too much at once cause
it'll blob and won't dry right. A nice thin even coat looks best. And make
sure you let each coat dry properly before you start on the next."

Cathy had accompanied her advice with a collection of clear polish, polish
remover, cotton balls, an emery board and a nail buffer which she set out
on the desk in front of him. Then she gathered several of her packages up
in her arms and walked into the bathroom. After a bit Bob heard the shower
running.

Bob briefly thought about rebelling, but he worried that Cathy might follow
through on her threat not to help him change back. Then he figured what the
hell. Women do stuff like this all the time, and even though he might feel
like he was a man wearing drag he sure didn't look like a man. He might as
well go along with Cathy and keep her happy. She seemed determined that he
get fully into the role, at least for tonight. Well, he thought
philosophically, he was getting a unique opportunity to see how the other
half lived. So he bent over the desk and began painstakingly applying
polish to his long nails while Cathy got herself ready in the bathroom.

As he worked on his nails, he thought about everything that had happened
today. God, it was only a few hours ago that he woke up as a woman. Now
here he sat in sexy underthings painting his nails pink! Everything was so
different for a woman - more different than he'd have ever imagined. And it
seemed likely he was going to have to spend more than a little time in this
body. The more he thought about his situation, the more he realized he knew
next to nothing about women. He thought about how it felt when he touched
his new body. How he'd felt when Brad was looking at him so... hungrily.
How weird it felt to suddenly break down in tears.

By this time the shower had stopped running. "Cathy?" he called tentatively
across the hall, "I'm not sure if this makes sense but I was wondering how
you feel being a woman?"

"I dunno," she stuck her head in the door, "Normal, I guess. I've never
been anything else."

"I know. It's just that... well, I've been feeling really strange all day
long."

She laughed. "Gee, Bob, I can't imagine why? I mean isn't switching bodies
something you do every day?"

"No, no. I'm serious. It's weird as hell having an entirely different body.
But I meant other things. At first I thought it might be shock, or stress,
like my mind is having trouble dealing with this body. But it's not like
that, it's more an antsy feeling. I've felt anxious and kind of frustrated
all day long - sort of a standing in line at the DMV kind of feeling. Then
it's like I've got no control over my emotions, the least little thing sets
me off. I broke down crying twice today, and I've never done that before.
Is it like that for you? Is that something I have to learn to live with?"

"Bob... no, not Bob -- Robyn. Robyn, girlfriend, it sounds to me like
you're having your first case of PMS."

"Huh?" Bob couldn't believe this was happening to him.

"Frustrated. Weepy. Just feeling pissy in general. Classic signs. How's
your boobs? Are they tender? Do you feel anything like abdominal cramps?"

Bob considered how he felt, physically. "No... nothing like that."

"Wait a day or so. I'm betting you're pms-ing. We'll have to pick you up
something at the drug store just in case."

"Oh God! You can't be serious?!" Bob wailed.

"Chill, Robyn. It's no big deal. Sure it's an inconvenience but half the
planet has learned to live with it. You're not alone, girl."

For the first time, the reality of his situation was sinking in. The idea
that he was about to start his period seemed to hit Bob like a speeding
truck. It was like waking from a dream only to find that the dream was
real. He was a girl. He was going to have periods. He could get pregnant.
He could get raped. God, he never felt so vulnerable, so totally helpless.

"Cathy... You said you didn't know how long it could take to reconstruct
that spell, without the Grimoire. Weeks, maybe. I'm going to be like this
for weeks. I'm going to need help... learning how to live... how to live as
a woman. Will you help me? Teach me how to live in this body?"

Cathy heard the desperation in his voice. The indecision she'd felt earlier
at the mall over how to handle Bob's problems completely resolved itself in
her mind. For better or worse, Bob was female for the foreseeable future.
She would help him accept this fact and teach him to be the best woman he
possibly could.

"Robyn hon, I've already started. Why do you think I stopped calling you
'Bob'? But you need to help too. You've got to go with the flow, stop
getting all weirded out every time I ask you to try something feminine.
Just relax and leave everything up to me for a while. I think we'll have
fun too, you'll see."

"Okay Cathy. I'm Robyn for the duration. 'Bob' is gone fishing and we won't
be hearing from him till we're ready to get him back."

"That's the spirit girlfriend! Now, let me see how you're doing on your
manicure and you can tell me what you think about my outfit."

Robyn turned around to see Cathy model her new clothes. She had on a
charcoal gray sleeveless body suit. The knit fabric covered her from neck
to ankles but was so clingy it left nothing to the imagination. Every curve
of her body was faithfully traced - you could even see the slight bulge
where her pubic mound swelled gently outward from the flatness of her
abdomen. She wore a pair of suede ankle boots with four inch heels that
raised her to a truly imposing height. A black leather rope-like belt,
coiled around her three times, clasped with an ornate silver buckle, rode
low on her hips emphasizing her slim waist. Her only jewelry was a silver
and onyx bracelet on one hand and a pair of black onyx earrings carved in
the shape of corkscrews that dangled an inch and a half down from her
earlobes. The overall effect was breathtaking.

"Oh Cathy!" Robyn gasped. She'd never seen her dress so sexy before. "I
love it!"

Cathy was aglow. She checked herself out in the mirror, for the first time
in her life completely satisfied with her reflection. Not that she hated
her old body, just that she looked so perfect now. "Thanks, Robyn. I love
it too! I look pretty damn hot if I do say so myself. Watch out Greg Ewing
cause here I come."

Robyn giggled at Cathy's impression of a femme fatale. Briefly she felt a
flash of envy for this Greg person, but she firmly rejected that thought.
She wasn't a man in competition for Cathy's affection anymore, she was her
friend Robyn - her girlfriend Robyn. "You can't miss, Cathy. Take it from
someone who knows, no man alive could resist you in that outfit."

"Let's hope not." Cathy allowed herself a last look in the mirror then
turned to Robyn. "Okay, how're you coming with your nails? We still have to
get your hair done and get you into that dress."

Cathy had been right when she said polishing her nails was harder than it
looked. As they'd been talking she'd carefully done her nails - twice.
Doing her left hand hadn't been all that difficult, since she was right
handed. But when she started on her right hand Robyn botched a nail, making
a gloppy tacky mess. She used a cotton ball soaked with remover to blot up
the mess. Once the nail was clean, she saw that her whole left hand was
ruined because she'd foolishly handled the remover-soaked cotton. So she
did both hands over again, being very cautious not to repeat her mistakes.
Now she gently blew on them to dry the final coat. She felt proud at how
well she'd managed - weird considering she nearly blew a fuse when Cathy
first handed her the polish. As Bob she'd loved long sexy nails, which was
why hers were so long of course, and they looked even better with a
gleaming coat of polish. A professional manicurist could have done better,
but she'd done a respectable job. She held her hands up for Cathy to see
and wiggled her fingers.

"Perfect, Robyn. Your hands are so delicate and that shade goes well on a
blonde. Be careful not to touch them for a bit, you don't want to leave a
fingerprint and ruin the gloss. Now let's do your hair. Turn around and
hold your head up straight."

Robyn obeyed, staring at the wall while Cathy undid the kerchief and worked
at her hair with a brush. She pulled it back and did it up in a French
twist at the back of her head, using quite a few bobby pins to secure it.
Then she turned her around and used a rattail to pull several strands free
around the front of her face. These tendrils she twisted into corkscrews
that dangled from her temples. She finished everything off with a light
spritz of hairspray. When Robyn saw herself in the mirror she couldn't
believe how different she looked. Instead of long tousled bedroom hair she
had an upswept elegant coiffure, artfully disarrayed with spiral tendrils
framing her face. She felt air moving at the nape of her neck for the first
time since waking, and couldn't resist turning her head from side to side
to admire her new look, noting how it drew attention to her long swan-like
neck.

"Okay, time to put on your dress." Cathy interrupted her study of her new
hairstyle.

Cathy held out the slipdress, motioning for Robyn to extend her arms. She
slipped the straps over Robyn's arms and carefully slid the dress over her
head and let it fall down onto her body. She arranged the bodice a bit,
then turned Robyn about and zipped her up. The dress fit perfectly. It
draped from her shoulders by two tiny straps, revealing the upper curve of
her breasts. The bodice was gently fitted and smoothly flowed down to the
waist which was narrowed but didn't cling then flared at her hips to a
flippy loose skirt which fell a daring six inches above her knees, barely
covering her stocking tops. The material was soft feather-light silk in
midnight black, classically simple, totally unadorned.

Cathy handed her a shoe box. Robyn noted they were size 6 before she opened
the box. Inside was a pair of black confections with stiletto heels. They
were little more than a curved piece of leather to rest her sole on with a
collection of tiny straps intended to crisscross over her toes and a little
strap to slip over her heel. Uncertain if she could walk in them, she
slipped them on her feet. The heels were about three inches, which was
quite high for her tiny stature. She shakily took a few steps and looked
over at Cathy, grinning broadly.

"Wow, I feel like I could break an ankle," she joked.

She really did feel very unstable in the shoes. They strained her arches
and she found she needed to change the way she walked, balancing more on
the balls of her feet and taking shorter steps. But she was determined to
get used to them. A part of her was beginning to feel pride in how she
looked as a woman rather than being freaked out by the thought that she was
dressing and acting like a girl. She remembered how much she loved seeing
women in heels when she was a man. She wanted to look that good herself.

"Takes getting used to, Robyn. Be careful, don't try any complicated dance
steps, but it'll come to you as you get practice. Now for the finishing
touches."

Cathy gave Robyn a tube of 'Nearly Nude' sheer pink lipstick, a delicate
gold chain with a tiny heart, a longer gold necklace with heart pendant, a
black satin clutch purse, a pair of gold hoop earrings, and a black satin
elastic band. Robyn put the necklace on, but when she started to fasten the
smaller chain on her wrist Cathy stopped her.

"No, that's for your ankle. Dressing is all in the details, Robyn. The
elastic band is a scrunchie, normally you put it in your hair to hold a
ponytail. But tonight put it on your wrist, it gives you just the right fun
kind of look to offset the rest of your outfit - we're going to a bar,
after all, not an embassy reception. Besides, you'll have it handy in case
you have a hair emergency... or you wake up in a strange bed and don't want
to be seen in public with evening hair on the morning after." Cathy teased.

Robyn blushed, she was trying to adjust to being a girl but the thought of
having sex was still something she wanted to put off for now. She slipped
the scrunchie on her right wrist, fastened the anklet on her opposite leg.
Then she looked at the gold hoops. "They're for pierced ears."

"Your ears are pierced, Robyn. I noticed this morning, err.. afternoon,
when we were measuring each other. You must have imagined your fantasy girl
with hoops. Here, let me help."

Cathy took the earrings and tilted Robyn's face to the side. Robyn felt a
tug on her earlobe then a weight. Cathy repeated the process for her other
ear. The hoops were large, about two inches in diameter and Robyn could
feel their weight pulling at her ears and felt them brush her neck whenever
she moved her head.

Cathy then put her fingers beneath Robyn's chin and gently raised her face
upwards. She uncapped the lipstick and carefully applied it. Robyn had full
sensuous lips resembling Jeanne Triplehorn's, which they should since Bob
had been thinking of the actress when he pictured the perfect mouth. Cathy
handed her a tissue and told her to blot. She placed the tissue in her
mouth and gently pressed her lips together as she'd seen other women do.
The tissue now bore a perfect imprint of her sexy lips in light pink.

Finally Cathy produced a small perfume atomizer and sprayed Robyn's neck
and between her breasts. Then she sprayed a few squirts into the air and
motioned Robyn to step into the little cloud. Robyn felt tiny droplets
touch her skin and was enveloped in the feminine fragrance.

"You smell so sexy now," Cathy said. She tucked the perfume, lipstick, and
a small brush and comb into the clutch purse and handed it Robyn. She
studied Robyn's face a moment, critically assessing her handiwork. "We
won't bother with your eyes for tonight. You're enough of a natural beauty
not to need a lot of makeup. Sometime maybe we can make a day of it and get
makeovers from a skin and color consultant so you can learn how best to
enhance your features. I've never used much makeup myself and I'd probably
not be a lot of help. But it's fun once in a while to get really done up.
Same as dressing up, Robyn. You'll see. Jeans are much more comfortable but
you feel so good when you look special."

Robyn's stomach growled, interrupting their conversation. Cathy heard it
and smiled. "Wow. What with everything that's happened today I've been too
excited to eat."

"Me too. I haven't had a thing all day." Robyn said.

"We can stop for something on the way. I guess we're ready to go now."
Cathy handed Robyn a large black silk scarf with thin white piping tracing
an abstract pattern. "It's chilly, wear this around your shoulders. You'll
need it."

They spared a few moments for a final check in the mirror. Both of them
could barely believe that the image staring back was their own reflection.
Each was a vision of sexy womanhood that would make any man rock hard with
desire.

Finally, Robyn wrapped herself in the scarf, enjoying the slippery feel of
the silk on her bare arms. Cathy slipped into a short jacket that matched
her body suit, grabbed up her purse and ushered Robyn out the door.

                                   *****

"I'm shivering, it's freezing out there!" Robyn said as they stood in line
at McDonald's. She had goosebumps from the chill November evening. She had
never been so sensitive to cold before. Just one more change she needed to
get used to.

"When we get to the 'Trap you'll warm up. Get out on the dance floor and
you'll work up some heat."

Robyn was silent. In a little while she'd be at the most popular singles
spot on campus. As a girl. A very sexy girl. Fair game for all the horny
guys who hung out in places like that, looking for one thing. She was
feeling a mixture of excitement, anticipation, and fear. Even here in the
restaurant she sensed guys looking at her. She and Cathy had created a mini
sensation when they arrived. They were far sexier than the average customer
and nearly every eye in the place was focused on them. She was unaccustomed
to feeling so exposed, overly self-conscious, and not sure she liked all
the attention she was getting.

When they reached the front of the line to place their orders Robyn was
starving. Through long habit she started to ask for three quarterpounders,
but Cathy interrupted and ordered them each one sandwich and a coke. Once
seated in a booth Robyn found she felt bloated before she even finished all
her food. She put her half-eaten burger down.

"I guess my appetite's shrunk to match my body" she said.

"Better keep reminding yourself that lots of things have changed, Robyn.
You don't want to slip up and try to use the Men's room by mistake - you
might give some guy a thrill. Anyway, if you're ready let's go. It's time
to break some hearts!"

Still feeling some lingering misgivings, Robyn slowly stood and followed
Cathy out the door, teetering slightly in her high heels.

5. Chapter

It was after ten when Robyn and Cathy made their way into the entrance to
the MouseTrap. The club was filling fast and the sound of loud music
throbbed in the air.

"Two, please."

Cathy handed the bouncer a twenty for the cover charge, then showed him her
driver's license. He checked her birth date then stamped the back of her
hand. Then Robyn stepped up and extended her arm to be stamped.

The bouncer looked her over critically then said, "ID?"

Cathy interrupted before Robyn could open her mouth, "My friend forgot her
license, okay?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, miss. Can't let you in without proof of age."

"Don't be silly!" Cathy blustered, "Anybody can see she's old enough."

"Look lady, I've seen high school kids who make themselves up to look older
than your friend here. I'm sorry. Club policy, no ID no admittance. It's
out of my hands."

"Cathy, let's just go " Robyn whined. She felt self-conscious enough
dressed like she was, now they were drawing even more attention to
themselves. She started to back towards the exit.

Cathy grabbed Robyn's arm, preventing her from leaving. She was determined
to get inside to meet Greg. "No. We're here to have some fun, Robyn!" she
turned back to the bouncer and smiled ingratiatingly, "Aw, come on. Give us
a break. She's twenty-three."

The bouncer was trying to hand Cathy back her money when Brad appeared.
He'd been watching the scene unfold from the bar. "Robyn! Hi! I'm glad you
made it." He appreciatively looked Robyn up and down and whistled softly.
"Wow. I thought you were gorgeous when I met you this afternoon but I gotta
say you really clean up damn fabulous. Wait here while I call Playboy to
tell them I just captured an escaped Playmate."

Robyn felt herself go all shy and awkward under Brad's teasing attention.
"Um hi Brad." she mumbled, eyes downcast.

Brad nodded to Cathy, received no response from her other than a cold
stare. He shrugged it off and waved to the club's entrance. "Shall we,
ladies?"

Robyn said "Um we can't."

"Oh? Is there a problem, Johnny?" Brad asked the bouncer, his tone
indicating a friendly familiarity.

"Yeah, your friend says she forgot her ID"

"It's okay. I'll vouch for Robyn," Brad patted the bouncer on his shoulder,
then shook his hand. Robyn couldn't be certain, but she thought she saw
Brad slide a bill into the bouncer's palm. "I've been coming here a long
time, and I've always treated you right, haven't I Johnny?"

"Well, I really shouldn't, Mr. Franklin " the bouncer hesitated a moment,
his eyes flickered down at what was in his hand. Then he slipped the hand
into his pocket and continued as if granting a major concession, " but if
you say she's over twenty-one then I guess I can let her in just this once.
But next time she better have ID"

"Thanks!" Cathy exclaimed in relief to the bouncer, then looked warily at
Brad, "And thank you, Brad."

Robyn held her hand out to be stamped, then said shyly "Thanks Brad. I
really appreciate this "

"No problem, girls. Why don't you let me buy you a drink?" Brad gestured
toward the bar.

"Thanks, but you've already done so much" Cathy demurred, "And we promised
someone we'd meet them here " she craned her neck, scanning the crowded
club. Then before Brad could object, she grabbed Robyn by her wrist and
pulled her off into the dimly lit interior of the club.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Robyn glimpsed guys tracking their progress
as she and Cathy walked across the room. Heads swiveled to follow them as
if attached by invisible leads. Several times she saw someone point at them
and lean over to say something to a friend. As Bob, he studiously ignored
any stares from people --- he assumed anyone who looked at him was doing so
out of morbid fascination, repulsed by his gross body. The stares she was
getting now, as Robyn, were entirely different. She felt overly displayed
by the tiny dress she wore, and was very self-consciously aware of what was
probably going through their minds. But also, she felt a weird kind of
pride --- that she was attracting so much attention gave her a little
thrill.

Cathy must have sensed the same watchful eyes on them. She leaned over and
giggled into Robyn's ear, "Did you see those guys checking us out? Get
ready for some fun tonight!"

Robyn looked at her horrified, "Cathy! I'm beginning to think this wasn't
such a good idea."

"Oh, relax Robyn. Loosen up and have some fun. You'd have turned me into a
walking wet dream, except it backfired on you. So now you're the one all
the guys are sniffing after. Why not make the best of the situation? Now's
your chance to really find out what that's all about. Here, let's grab this
table --- we're right out where everybody can see what we've got to offer."
Cathy steered Robyn to a table out near the dance floor. Robyn would have
preferred sitting further back where the lighting was lower and she didn't
feel so much like she was on display.

A waitress appeared, interrupting Cathy's little lecture. She was all
business, barely even smiling. She knew from long experience that two women
alone in a place like this would nurse their drinks all night until some
guy cut them out of the herd. Any tip would be minimal. The best customers
were always the lonely single guys hoping to impress her. She even
preferred a group out partying over a couple of women, partyers might run
her ass ragged but they usually pooled their cash and left a decent tip.

"What'll it be, girls?" the waitress asked.

Despite Cathy's advice to just go with the flow, Robyn was all but
trembling she was so nervous. She needed something to calm her down. Cathy
was right when she said she needed to loosen up.

"Whoa! Now that's the way to party, Robyn! I'll have one too. And bring us
a couple beers with that." Cathy said.

The waitress walked off to get their orders and Cathy scanned the crowd.
She didn't see Greg anywhere. She glanced back at Robyn and saw her
fiddling with a coaster, too nervous to look at the other people in the bar
for fear of seeming to encourage them. She reached over and put her hand on
Robyn's, halting her nervous twiddling.

Cathy leaned over and spoke directly in her ear above the roar of the
music. "Hey. You don't have anything to be afraid of. Every guy in this
place is probably more scared of approaching you than you are of them. You
aren't some nerd trying to fit in any more. Now it's the other way around.
People will be trying to impress you, hoping to win your approval. You're
beautiful Robyn. Enjoy it. Party on girl. Learn what it is to be beautiful
and have guys chasing after you. And if somebody tries something you don't
like, tell `em to go fuck themselves. It's your choice."

Robyn looked at her and smiled. Cathy made sense. She looked the part so
why not enjoy it. See what it felt like to be popular. Experiment with some
of the things that always used to make Bob envious about pretty women and
how they seemed to get away with murder.

The waitress returned with their drinks and Cathy paid her. Then they
grinned at each other, clinked their glasses together and gulped. Robyn's
whole body shuddered. She felt the liquor burn its way down her throat and
curl up in a warm pool in her stomach. She blinked back tears, grabbed her
beer and took a quick swallow. Her reaction was a bit of a surprise. She
used to be able to do a shot and hardly even feel it. She'd have to be
careful tonight.

"Whew! Sssmooth." She choked. Both of them broke out in peals of laughter.

"C'mon Robyn. Let's hit the dance floor." Cathy urged her to her feet.

Robyn cautiously followed Cathy out onto the hardwood square. She was still
unsteady in her heels. There weren't all that many people dancing this
early in the evening so she didn't need to worry about bumping into anyone.
Cathy started moving to the music and Robyn tentatively tried to imitate
her. In all Bob's 23 years he'd never before been on a dance floor, he'd
never even gotten up the nerve to ask anyone to dance. This was another
thing about women she'd envied -- their unself-conscious ability to dance
with each other or alone, something two guys would never try in a million
years. Women were more naturally exhibitionistic she thought, maybe it was
the wild styles of clothes, or maybe some evolutionary thing that drove
them to draw attention to themselves, but Robyn was beginning to suspect
the real reason women seemed to display themselves so readily was just that
men were always watching. It was going to take a real effort to forget her
shyness, ignore all the stares, and just let herself be natural.

They danced through several songs. Robyn found that if she just let her
mind focus on the music she didn't feel quite so self-conscious. She began
to feel the beat of the music and just let her body move. It was fun. She
felt energized and lighthearted. As she danced, Robyn caught an occasional
glimpse of Brad over at the bar watching her, but he didn't approach.
Several guys watched them closely while they danced, their eyes following
every move. Checking them out, smiling suggestively. Robyn smiled back.

Finally Cathy dragged her back to their table. She was breathing a bit
heavy but not winded yet, feeling warm from the exercise and the tequila.
They sat and sipped their beers to cool off. Then a couple of guys were at
their table. They asked if they needed refills and Cathy gestured for them
to sit down.

Robyn nervously looked them over. They were big football types. Seemed
arrogant, she thought. They introduced themselves but Robyn's dazed mind
didn't catch their names. The guys tried to make small talk while signaling
for the waitress to come over. Bragging about their chances to go to a bowl
game or some such shit they thought would impress Robyn and Cathy.

Cathy leaned across the table and said, "Robyn? Do you need to go to the
Ladies'?"

Robyn shook her head, she would need to use the restroom eventually but she
wanted to delay it until absolutely necessary.

Cathy rolled her eyes, flashed her an exasperated look and said, "Well I
need to."

"Oh? Oh!" Robyn suddenly got the hint. She smiled to herself as she thought
this was her introduction to the time honored female tradition of going to
the Ladies' Room in a herd. "Okay, let's go."

When they got inside both stalls were occupied and one other girl was
waiting ahead of them. Cathy looked in the mirror and fussed with her hair.
"Those two are dorks, Robyn. Let's ditch them, okay?"

Robyn was relieved. "I couldn't agree more, Cathy! I wasn't the one who
asked them to sit down in the first place. I was afraid you liked them."

"Get out!" Cathy feigned astonishment. "They're kind of cute but as soon as
they opened their mouths' you could see all the way to their assholes."

Robyn laughed. She was tentatively trying to touch up her lipstick and
Cathy's comment almost made her ruin it.

"So when we get back, I'll think up some excuse. Then you just follow my
lead okay?"

Robyn nodded agreement.

When the stalls were free, they used the toilets. Despite her worries,
Robyn didn't have any problems --- it wasn't all that different than it'd
been as a man, except she had to sit down, and remember to wipe herself
instead of shaking it dry. More inconvenient was all.

They got back to the table and found the waitress had already brought them
fresh beers. They sat and smiled awkwardly in thanks. The bigger of the two
guys started to tell a story about their last away game. Robyn sipped her
beer and stared at the table in boredom. Cathy distractedly scanned the
crowd. Suddenly she let out a little squeal of delight and was out of her
seat in an instant.

"It's Greg! Robyn, hang on just one minute, okay? I'll be right back. Just
wait one sec." Cathy babbled excitedly before she walked off across the
room.

Robyn uncomfortably sat and watched as Cathy ran up and hugged a guy over
near the bar. He wasn't bad looking, Robyn thought. The way she hugged him,
she figured he must be Greg and not part of a plan to dump the two jocks.
Robyn's heart skipped a beat when she lost sight of them in the crowd. She
fervently hoped Cathy didn't forget her in her excitement and leave her
stranded here.

The awkward silence that had fallen when Cathy suddenly ran off stretched
on for several minutes and still she hadn't returned. Robyn couldn't stand
it any longer. She gathered up her purse and shawl and Cathy's things and
stood up.

"Guys I'm sorry, but I better go find my friend um thanks for the beer "
Robyn nervously mumbled.

The football players had been sullenly drinking their beers, their faces
clouding up with anger. Now that Robyn appeared to be about to leave them
too, one of them stood up. He was absolutely huge. He loomed over her by
more than a foot. He reached across the table and grabbed her arm, circling
her wrist in one large hand, not roughly but firm enough that she couldn't
pull away.

"Aww, c'mon honey. She'll be back, she left her stuff. Why don't let's
dance?" he said. He sounded drunker than he appeared.

Robyn tried to pull her arm back but he tightened his grip. His arm might
as well have been made of stone for all she could move it. She began to
feel real fear, he could do anything to her and she was powerless to
prevent it. "Ow! That hurts! Let go of my arm!" she pleaded, hating how
weak she felt and how whiney she sounded.

He didn't release her, instead he began pulling her toward the dance floor.
"Jus' one dance, babe. Then you can go."

Robyn's struggles were totally in vain. Inexorably she was forced towards
the dance floor. She was overwhelmed by fear and frustration and felt her
eyes welling, a tear rolled down her cheek. Then suddenly the football
player stopped pulling her along and stood still facing Brad who was
standing there blocking his way.

"Let her go, Johnson." Brad said calmly.

"Aw, c'mon man. What do you care? I was just having some fun. The bitch got
me to buy her a beer and then she was gonna dump me."

"She's a friend of mine, Johnson. Let her go."

"Shit! Franklin if we weren't fraternity brothers I'd bust your ass."

"Just leave her alone. I'll pay for the beer. Chill out, man, okay?" Brad
reached for his wallet.

"Forget it, man. One beer. You can owe me. Stuck up bitch anyway." Johnson
waved off Brad's money.

"Hey Johnson, I think I saw Becky Moore at the bar. She's hot for you,
bud." Brad mentioned one of the cheerleaders who had a rather legendary
reputation.

Johnson released Robyn's wrist and mumbled, "Uh too many beers, I guess.
Sorry, I didn't mean anything." Robyn rubbed her wrist then irritatedly
brushed the tears off her cheeks. "It's okay forget it." She said sullenly.

Johnson gave a halfhearted wave, then went to rejoin his partner and they
both walked over to the bar. When he was gone Brad heaved a sigh and joked.
"Sad thing about Johnson. Too many steroids I think. Must have gotten to
his brain."

Robyn laughed, feeling immensely relieved. "Thanks Brad. That's twice
you've saved me."

                                   *****

Robyn was swaying gently in Brad's arms. The deejay was playing a slow
song. They'd already danced several songs together. Cathy had returned
shortly after the incident with Johnson and claimed her jacket and purse
from Robyn. Through mutual agreement they had separated into two couples.
Cathy with Greg, had gone off to a corner somewhere to relive old memories.
Robyn and Brad ordered new drinks and talked and danced, getting to know
one another.

Robyn pressed her cheek to Brad's chest. Dancing close like this evoked
strange feelings in her new body. She felt tiny next to Brad, but not
afraid like she'd felt when Johnson grabbed her. His arms around her felt
secure, safe, not menacing. Even in heels her head was below his eye level,
so it was natural to rest her cheek on his chest. And it made her feel
good.

"Robyn?" Brad whispered, his breath stirring in her hair. "I'm glad I ran
out of ice today."

"So am I."

She looked up at his face. He stopped moving to the music and held her
still. His expression grew serious. Slowly, watching her face closely for
any sign of rejection, he lowered his mouth towards hers.

Robyn felt dizzy, as if the world were receding from her in all directions.
She stared up at Brad as he slowly leaned over her, his lips growing
nearer. She closed her eyes, feeling her heart hammering in her chest. Ever
so gently his lips brushed hers, tenderly warm and soft, then drew back.
She felt his fingers touch her cheek, his hand cupping her face. After a
slight pause, his lips lightly touched hers again and then again. Tiny
butterfly kisses lingering only a moment before retreating, leaving her
lips empty and wanting, yearning for the next contact. Almost involuntarily
her lips parted just the barest fraction and she tasted his warm breath. He
tentatively probed her mouth with his tongue. She felt an electric thrill
as their warm wet flesh touched. She reached up clasping the back of his
head in her hand, feeling his thick hair against her palm. He slid his
tongue in further past her lips, gliding slick and slippery over her own
tongue. Deliciously, languorously their tongues danced together in her
mouth. For a brief instant the thought flickered across her mind that she
should feel strange kissing a man, but it felt so wonderful she didn't
worry about it. So this is kissing, she thought rapturously.

Her body was on fire. She felt her nipples stiffen and her pussy began to
tingle. Her knees felt weak, but she was so secure in Brad's arms. He was
so powerful, his muscles felt firm and strong underneath his skin. She
pressed herself against him, feeling her breasts yielding to the firmness
of his chest. She arched her body into him, surreptitiously rubbing her
crotch against his. He was hard, she could feel the heat and firmness
straining against her through his jeans. She felt as if she wanted to touch
him everywhere, feel him enfold her, feel him inside her. God, she couldn't
believe how wondrously excited she was.

He pulled back from her lips after a time and nibbled her ear, sliding his
tongue along the sensitive skin behind her lobe. She shivered in delight
and arched her neck like a cat. He slid his mouth and tongue down from her
ear tracing the tendon of her neck and planted a feather-light kiss at the
base of her throat. Then his mouth rose back up to meet hers and took her
lower lip gently between his teeth, pulling at it tenderly and sucking. She
giggled against his mouth and slithered her tongue out to trace his upper
lip, briefly touched the smooth hardness of his teeth. He released her lip
and planted a firm yet brief kiss on her mouth. He pulled his head back and
smiled down into her upturned face.

"Mmmm. Robyn, let's go sit down," he said hoarsely.

She nodded and he led her off to the table, holding her hand.

                                   *****

They sat close together in a dark corner of the club and kissed and touched
each other, occasionally sipping their drinks. Robyn didn't flinch at all
when Brad slipped his arm around her waist. She just smiled contentedly and
cuddled closer. For an indeterminate time they kissed and caressed each
other while their surroundings faded away. She didn't hear the noise or see
the other people in the bar, she was in her own private universe with Brad.
She could really get used to this! How much of life she'd missed out on up
to now. Until tonight she hadn't lived at all. She never wanted the night
to end.

"Robyn! There you are, I've been looking all over." Cathy's voice brought
her back to reality. "Greg and I are leaving. We'll drop you off on our
way. Let's go, okay?"

Robyn looked up at her in a giddy daze. "No. No. You guys go on ahead." She
turned back to Brad and smiled. "I'm sure Brad will take me home."

Cathy's jaw dropped. "Robyn "

"I'm okay! Go! I'll be all right." Robyn hissed. She didn't want Cathy
spoiling her wonderful mood.

Brad spoke up, hoping to reassure Cathy, and send her on her way. "I'll
make sure she gets home. I live right next door. We'll be fine."

"Well, you're a big girl. Suit yourself. But I hope to hell you know what
you're doing." Cathy flashed Brad a warning look and walked off toward the
exit.

                                   *****

They danced and drank and laughed on into the night. Robyn was having more
fun than she'd had in all the years of her previous life. She drank quite a
bit and events became blurry as the night wore on.

One exchange stuck in her memory mostly because of the brief look of shock
she saw on Brad's face. They were teasing each other about sex, and Robyn
drunkenly hinted about her unusual situation, thinking herself very clever
as she did so.

"You know I'm a virgin," she slurred, enjoying her private joke, "I've been
saving myself for the right woman and now I'm her."

Suddenly very serious, Brad asked, "You're really a virgin, Robyn?"

She hiccuped and nodded solemnly, then flashed him a smug smile.

He looked a little troubled. It was nearly impossible to imagine such a
pretty girl had never had sex. But he shrugged it off momentarily -- it
would only make having her that much more satisfying.

Robyn also remembered spending some time in a little coffee shop. It must
have been late because they were the only customers. She couldn't remember
leaving the MouseTrap but that didn't really worry her at the time. There
was more kissing and joking and Brad got her to drink some coffee and
swallow some advil.

Then she woke up outside the door to her apartment and Brad was asking her
something about keys. Things were moving jerkily and the world seemed to be
at a strange angle. Then she realized Brad was carrying her cradled in his
arms like a small child. That was so sweet!

She smiled up at him and tried to imitate Mary Tyler Moore as Laura Petrie,
crooning in a singsong voice, "Honey, we're hoooooome!"

Brad laughed and kissed her. He somehow managed the door without putting
her down. Then he asked which was her bedroom.

Robyn let her arm flip vaguely in the direction of the hall and said "Last
door on the right." Then she snuggled closer to Brad's chest and kissed his
neck. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder as he carried
her down the hall.

6. Chapter

Robyn woke feeling disoriented, uncertain where she was or how she got
there. She had a throbbing headache and an intense pressure in her bladder.
She was lying on her stomach with her face buried in a pillow. Blearily she
opened her eyes and saw she was in her own bed. Wow, what a nightmare, she
thought. Then she moved her head and felt long hair brush her cheek and she
realized the past 24 hours hadn't been a dream.

Moving woodenly, she crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Out
of long habit she stood facing the toilet and lifted the seat. When she
reached down to aim her penis at the bowl her fingers brushed the silky
thong panty and she cursed. She lowered the seat back down, snaked her
panties down her legs and sat. She sighed in relief as the heavy stream
splashed into the water.

Once she finished she glanced at herself in the mirror. The blonde woman
sitting on the toilet with her panties around her ankles looked sexy as
hell - - even as obviously out of it as she was. The only thing she had on
besides the panties was her bra. Her hair was a wreck, with big clumps
unfurled from last night's careful up-do, pieces hanging everywhere still
partially held together with bobby pins. Her face was puffy and her eyes
bloodshot. She had lipstick smudged around her mouth and on her teeth.

She stood, pulled her panties up, and leaned over the sink, staring in the
mirror, trying to decide where to start on making herself presentable. She
realized she still had on her earrings and reached up to take them off. Her
nails made it difficult to grasp the little clips, but she figured it out
and set the hoops down on the vanity. She ran her fingers through her hair,
locating the hairpins and removing them, wincing occasionally as she hit a
snarl that pulled painfully at her scalp. Briefly she considered combing
her hair, then settled for a rudimentary finger raking, not wanting to risk
renewed agony at each tangle - besides she thought the wild tousled look
worked for her. Satisfied with her hair for the moment, she started to
brush her teeth then regretted she'd unbound her hair first. Almost as if
it were alive, strands of hair kept finding their way into her mouth as she
brushed. Eventually she had to pull her hair back from her face and hold it
behind her head with one hand while she finished cleaning her teeth. She
rinsed her mouth then splashed some water in her face and briefly scrubbed
with a washcloth to remove the lipstick traces around her mouth. She patted
her face dry and toweled her hair in spots where it had trailed into the
water. She felt her jaw thoughtfully, then realized shaving was something
she didn't need to worry about -- that was one aspect of manhood she was
not going to miss. She stared at her face in the mirror - startlingly
lovely - and decided her morning toilette was sufficient. Finally, she
popped a couple advil from the medicine cabinet and hoped they'd take
effect soon or she'd never survive the day.

Feeling somewhat human again, she padded back to her bedroom to get
dressed. She wondered what clothes she would wear since the only thing
Cathy had shown her last night was the dress she wore to the club. Even
Robyn's male-oriented fashion sense knew that dress was inappropriate for
normal daytime activities. The thought of the sexy little dress caused
Robyn to look around for it, realizing she didn't remember taking it off...
in fact she was vague on how she got home at all. Then she spotted it,
carefully draped over the back of her chair in front of the desk. Her
stockings and garter belt were also hanging there, and her shoes and
handbag had been neatly placed on the seat of the chair. She walked over
and found a single rose lying on top of a legal pad placed in the center of
her desk. There was a brief note scrawled on the pad.

"Good morning Sweet Robyn! I hope you're not hurting too badly today. You
were quite a handful last night, so I put you to bed without any dessert.
I'll call you, but I promise not too early cause I know you're going to
need your sleep. Brad."

Robyn sniffed the rose and smiled. She had no idea how Brad had gotten it
in the middle of the night but it was a sweet gesture. She tried to
remember all they'd done last night but much of the evening was a blur. She
remembered a lot of kissing - did she ever! Her nipples tightened and she
felt excited, silly, happy, remembering the kisses and tender touches and
being carried in his arms. She briefly thought how strange it was to get
all giddy over a man, but she couldn't deny that the memories excited her.
Then it occurred to her that it must have been Brad who'd undressed her.
How embarrassing! She blushed all the way to her toes thinking of him
seeing her in panties and bra. But, he could have done anything he wanted -
she couldn't have stopped him -- and he just put her to bed. Cathy was
wrong about him, Robyn decided, he really was a decent guy.

Thought of Cathy led to wondering where she'd gone. With all these strange
new feelings and experiences she really needed someone to talk to. Someone
who would understand what she was going through, and Cathy was the only one
she could turn to. Robyn picked up the phone and called her dorm room. She
absently brushed her cheek with the rose as she listened to the phone
ringing.

"What?" Cathy blearily answered after 6 rings. Robyn had been about to hang
up.

"Cathy? It's me, Robyn."

"Robyn...? Oh, yeah. What time is it?" Cathy mumbled.

Robyn glanced at her clock and said, "It's almost noon. Wake up. We have to
talk."

"Noon?! Shit. I told Greg I'd meet him for lunch."

"Can't you cancel? Or reschedule? I really need to talk to you." Robyn
pleaded.

"I guess I can call him. I'll stop off at your place first and meet him a
little later on."

"Great! Thanks Cathy, I appreciate it. Um... one more thing... can you
bring something for me to wear? That dress you gave me last night seems a
bit... too much for just hanging around the house."

"Oh, look in those shopping bags. I picked you up some everyday stuff too,
besides that little black number."

"Okay. Thanks."

"See ya in a bit. Bye!" Cathy hung up.

                                   *****

She rummaged through the pile of shopping bags Cathy'd dumped in her room.
She felt a twinge of ominous dread when she found a box of tampons and
another of pads, but she put them off to the side, deciding that picking
out something to wear was the first order of business. Robyn was relieved
to see nothing was too expensive or outlandish in style. It looked like the
everyday casual wardrobe of an average coed. She'd been afraid Cathy had
only picked out a bunch of sexy items like the outfit she'd worn last
night. She separated out the receipts and put them on her desk, thinking
she'd need to repay her as soon as possible. If she didn't change back to
Bob eventually money might become a problem, but she'd worry about that if
and when. First she needed to get dressed before Cathy showed up.

She laid all her new clothes out on the bed to see what she had to choose
from. There was a pair of jeans, a cable-knit sweater in pink, several
pairs of leggings in patterns and colors that would match the sweater, a
knit cotton top with a simple crew neck, a package of bikini panties in
assorted colors, a plain white bra with a front closure, several pairs of
socks in various colors, a pair of Reeboks, and a simple shoulder bag. It
was a female version of the universal guy uniform of jeans and shirt, but
she could see that by mixing stuff around she could get four or five
different outfits from these few basic things. She decided on the jeans and
sweater, wanting to avoid for the moment either the form hugging leggings
or clingy knit top.

She slipped off the panties she was wearing and started working on removing
her bra. She reached round behind her, blindly fumbling with the bra's
closure. Silently she cursed whoever designed women's clothing - you needed
to be a fucking contortionist to get dressed and undressed. Finally she
succeeded in freeing herself from the garment and itched her skin where it
bore the reddened imprint from the bra's elastic. Ah, that felt lots
better.

She slid on a fresh pair of panties -- bright red and white diagonal
stripes, even her underwear was a fashion statement now. They were a normal
bikini style and didn't feel as alien as the thong had. Next came the bra.
This one was a soft cup front closure style and wasn't too much trouble to
put on. It was fairly comfortable too, not as binding as the strapless
push-up deal had been.

Next she struggled into the jeans. Her new body was tiny but the pants
Cathy'd selected were even smaller. She had to squirm and pull quite a lot
to get them over her hips. When she finally had them buttoned they fit like
a second skin, and really emphasized her sexy ass. She hadn't seen a belt
but they fit so snugly she figured the last thing she'd have to worry about
was her jeans falling down.

The sweater was a bulky cable-knit with a crew neck. She pulled it over her
head and had to pull her hair out through the neck opening. It was tunic
length on her but she arranged it so it bunched a bit at her waist with the
hem above the flare of her hips rather than covering her butt as it would
if she were wearing leggings. She liked the way her ass looked in the tight
jeans and she didn't want to hide it.

She finished by pulling on a thick pair of pink socks and the Reeboks. The
shoes were white with pink detailing. She was growing accustomed to the
various frills in women's styles and merely thought the shoes were pretty
rather than questioning the fact that she was wearing obviously feminine
shoes. They were lots more comfortable than the heels had been but she
missed the height boost. A few adjustments in front of the mirror and she
was satisfied with her look.

She wandered out to the kitchen and started making coffee. It was
frustrating to have to stand on a chair in order to reach her stuff. The
three roommates had logically given the topmost shelf to 6'4" Bob when they
divvied up kitchen storage space, and now she couldn't even see what was up
there. She made her usual extra strong coffee, using 5 scoops for a pot.
When she took her first sip she shuddered and made a face. Immediately she
poured out the entire pot and fixed a new one a bit less strong. She smiled
at the irony of how she used to laugh when other people tasted her coffee,
and now she understood their reaction. It seemed nothing remained of her
old self except her memories. There was so much to learn about her new
body.

Cathy arrived while she was finishing her second cup. They talked a bit
about inconsequentials over coffee. Cathy admired Robyn's outfit,
commenting on how cute she looked, noting she'd coordinated her socks with
her sweater and saying they'd have to get her more clothes as soon as
possible. Robyn thanked her and said it was nice to be in jeans, even if
they were so tight she could barely sit. Then Cathy brought up Robyn's
situation.

"So what did you want to talk about, Robyn?"

"Um... I've been wondering what's going to happen when I change back to a
man," she said a bit nervously.

"What do you mean?" Cathy asked cautiously. She studied Robyn over the rim
of her cup, wondering what she was getting at.

"I mean... Brad and me... well we sort of made out last night..." Robyn
fumbled for the right words.

"Get out!" Cathy burst out laughing. "Last time I saw you, you two looked
like you were doing lots more than 'sort of' anything. I tried to warn you.
Even offered you a ride home. But, no, you wouldn't listen."

"No. No. You don't understand. What we did isn't what's bothering me...
it's... well... I liked it." Robyn felt herself turning bright pink. "I
mean, I really liked it."

"Oh?" Cathy'd seen the look on Robyn's face often enough before. It was the
look of someone in the early stages of a hot romance. "Hmmmm. You enjoyed
fooling around with a guy. That's what's bothering you, right?"

"Well... yeah. Inside I'm a guy. Except I never did anything when I was a
guy. Nothing. I never even kissed a girl, except my mother. And last
night... well... that was fantastic. Better than anything. I don't know how
describe it...."

Cathy grinned at her. "Been there, Robyn. Your first kiss. It's wonderful,
I know."

"Duh! Of course you know what it feels like, I guess I sound silly." Robyn
sighed. "Anyway. I can't stop thinking about it. I keep replaying
everything in my mind. I got so turned on last night, and I got excited all
over again this morning just remembering stuff. Hell, I'm feeling all
tingly now just talking to you about it." Robyn blushed even deeper, and
grinned ruefully at Cathy.

"It's normal to have feelings like you describe, Robyn..."

"Yeah, normal for a woman. I look at you right now, and I see an attractive
woman. You're sexy as hell, Cathy. I feel like I should be turned on by
you, only I'm not sure if I am. But last night, what I felt with Brad...
wow! And I've never been attracted to guys before. Now I'm wondering if my
brain is going to associate sex with guys from now on... even when I change
back. Like maybe I'm gay or something."

Cathy thought about the problem a few moments before speaking. The fact
that she kissed Brad and liked it meant Robyn was learning to be a woman.
But she worried that things might be moving a bit too fast. Every girl
learns the intricacies of sex gradually as she matures. They don't just
suddenly awaken one morning in a fully adult and very sexy female body.
Robyn didn't have the benefit of growing up female so she had no natural
defenses against the Brad Franklins of the world. She still believed the
best thing for Robyn was to get her to accept being female, help her be
comfortable as a woman, since that was probably what she was going to be
for the rest of her life. But that didn't mean she should immediately start
fucking the first guy who came on to her. For the moment at least, a bit of
caution seemed in order. She only hoped she could convince Robyn and calm
her fears.

"I don't know if your idea is right, Robyn... I mean somehow I doubt it's
possible to turn yourself gay, if you weren't born that way already. And I
don't think just cause your first experience is with a guy that you'll be
permanently attracted to guys if you change back to a man. You'd never be
able to explain bisexuals if that were the case. I think what you're going
through now is just your mind adjusting to your new body with all the new
sensations. Your hormones and erogenous zones and all are completely
different now. And you don't have any experience in dealing with everything
you're feeling. It's like you've gone through puberty in a single day and
your mind hasn't yet adapted to all the physical changes. You might should
take things a bit slower right now, Robyn. Cool it with Brad especially,
he's only interested in one thing. At least until you're more familiar with
what your body is feeling."

Robyn was standing, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter watching
her intently. Cathy puttered in the sink, rinsing out her coffee cup while
she'd considered how to phrase her thoughts. When she finished speaking she
leaned over and gave Robyn a hug to reassure her. Robyn felt Cathy's
breasts soft and heavy against her own.

Impulsively, Robyn stood on tiptoe and kissed her. Her lips were soft and
warm and yielding. Not demanding, like Brad's. She pressed herself closer
to Cathy. There was no firm bulge pressing back against her softness, only
a smooth flatness like her own. She moved her hand to Cathy's breast and
felt it's plush resilience through her blouse. But her memory flashed on
how Brad's chest had felt under her palm, so broad and strong and firm. And
his smell, clean but with a faint trace of muskiness. She opened her lips,
darted her tongue out, found Cathy's tongue soft and agile. Their tongues
connected, tentative shy touches, quickly over with. Then they parted, the
entire encounter had lasted only seconds.

Cathy seemed shaken, uneasy. Robyn felt a vague disappointment, something
was missing. Kissing Cathy wasn't what she'd expected. It was... nice. But
there was no excitement, no electricity like had happened last night.

"Cathy, I'm sorry. I... um... I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's okay Robyn. Really." Cathy avoided her gaze a moment, then seemed
to collect herself. She tucked her hair back behind her ear and looked
directly at Robyn. "You're confused right now. You don't know whether to be
a guy or a girl. I understand. It's just that... I've never done that
before. Kissed another woman like that. It's not your fault. But... well, I
just can't think of you as a guy. Not now, anyway."

"I know." Robyn looked sheepish. "It's weird. I didn't really feel all that
much either. Not anything like last night. I mean, it might be fun,
probably would be, but I didn't feel the same sense of urgency. No sparks.
My nipples barely even twitched, and last night they felt like they were
gonna shoot right off of my tits."

Cathy laughed, feeling the tension dissipate. "Yah. I know that feeling!"

"Maybe I was right. Maybe I am fixated on guys now." Robyn said, a bit
morosely.

"It's going to be okay." Cathy put her arm around Robyn's shoulders in a
friendly, not a suggestive way. "Your body just craves something different
now. And your mind is just reacting to all the hormones and signals from
your new body. If - when -- we change you back, your male equipment should
take over and you'll be drooling over women in no time."

Robyn was unconvinced, but it was a moot point until she got her old body
back. And worrying about it too much just depressed her. So she changed the
subject, trying to lighten the mood.

"So you never did tell me how things went with you and Greg last night.
Obviously pretty good, or you wouldn't be meeting him today."

Cathy suddenly beamed. "Oh god! He's fantastic, Robyn. You'll get a chance
to meet him in a few minutes. He's coming over here to pick me up."

Robyn grinned at Cathy's infectious enthusiasm. "So, did you and him do it
last night, hmm?" She giggled wickedly.

It was Cathy's turn to blush. She replied in a saucy tone, "No, we didn't
'do it' little miss nosy britches." Then she grinned widely. "But I was
tempted. If things keep going the way they're going I might be giving in
awfully soon."

"Oh, I know how you feel" Robyn sighed. Then they both broke out into
laughter.

They both grew less serious, and the talk became almost silly. They talked
about their evening and Cathy made jokes about the way guys acted. Robyn
laughed along with her, remembering some reactions she'd gotten from guys
last night and realizing how truly lame men could be when they were trying
to impress women.

Greg showed up as they were joking about the two jocks who'd tried to pick
them up. Cathy re-introduced the two of them since they'd hardly exchanged
a word the night before. He sat and chatted with them a while. He seemed
nice, Robyn thought, witty, a good sense of humor, intelligent. He was
polite to Robyn and friendly but his face grew more animated whenever he
looked at Cathy. Robyn found herself watching him, the way his muscles
bunched under his skin when he moved, the strong line of his jaw and firm
set of his mouth, the way he touched Cathy, lightly resting his hand over
hers, or giving her arm a gentle squeeze. Robyn watched them together and
wondered what it would feel like for him to be touching her. When Cathy
first mentioned Greg the other day she'd expected to be somewhat jealous.
But she hadn't expected the jealousy to be directed at Cathy, for having
such a sexy guy. What a strange, strange turn of events, she thought to
herself.

Eventually Cathy and Greg left. They asked Robyn if she wanted to join them
for dinner, but she declined. She said she just wanted to be alone and
think. Maybe soak in a bath. Cathy made her promise to call if she changed
her mind or needed anything. As they were going Cathy and Robyn made plans
to meet the next day.

                                   *****

Robyn puttered about aimlessly, her thoughts drifting to Brad and last
night, wondering if they might grow as close as Cathy and Greg seemed to
be. It was dark outside when the phone interrupted her musing. She'd been
rereading his note for the umpteenth time, toying with the rose he left
her. She felt a flush of excitement when she answered it and heard his
voice.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Sweets. Did you sleep well?"

"Mmmm, like the dead. Happy turkey and dressing to you too." She was all
but purring into the phone.

"Well you sure looked dead to the world when I last saw you," he teased.

"Oh god. I'm so embarrassed you had to put up with me all looped out of my
mind like that! Thank you for taking such good care of me. And thanks for
the flower, that was so sweet of you."

"You're most welcome, Sweetie. I had more fun than I've had in a long time.
You're quite the party girl!"

Robyn giggled. Oh god, she thought, I'm acting like some love struck kid!

"I'm sorry to call at the last minute and all, but I just got home. I got
sucked in to watching the game over at the frat house and I thought you
needed all the sleep you could get. Anyway, I thought if you weren't doing
anything you might like to come next door for a turkey dinner?"

"Oh..." Robyn remembered Cathy's advice to take things slower, but her
stomach was fluttering and her nipples tingling just talking to him on the
phone, and she barely even hesitated. "I'd love to, Brad."

"Great. I'm home now, so whenever you're ready just come on over. It's the
apartment next to yours on the right."

"I'll be right there."

Brad gave her a kiss when he opened the door. He ushered her inside with
exaggerated courtliness. His place was a blend of sophisticated style and
frat guy mess. He had more money to decorate with so his stuff was better
than Robyn's place. The furniture was good quality, masculine in its
comfort and simplicity. The stereo and television were excellent, as to be
expected of a rich college guy. He had a large CD and video collection but
very few books. Robyn suspected he had porno tapes stashed in a little
cabinet below the VCR. There were various articles of sports equipment
lying carelessly about, baseball bat and glove, lacrosse stick, a pair of
skis standing in a corner. In contrast to the expensive electronic
equipment the walls were decorated in rather tacky posters, mostly models
in various stages of nudity.

At the moment the only lighting came from over a dozen candles spotted
throughout the living room and dining area. The stereo was playing a jazz
CD, the soft warm tones of a saxophone filled the air. There was a bottle
of red wine open on the table and two glasses. The table was set for two,
with fine china and linen napkins.

Brad pulled her chair out for her. "Just a moment Mademoiselle, while I
confer with the chef."

Robyn smiled. She felt rather special having someone go to all this trouble
for her. Brad disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned
carrying a pizza box which he sat in the center of the table.

Robyn burst out laughing. "That doesn't look like turkey to me."

"Oh mais oui!" He put a slice on her plate. "I'm almost certain they use
turkey pepperoni on Thanksgiving."

They ate and talked and drank. Robyn was careful not to overindulge in the
wine. She didn't want a repeat of the previous evening. After dinner they
slow danced in the living room to the soft music. She felt herself falling
under his spell. He seemed to know just how to keep her off balance and
pleasantly surprised. Her body seemed to tingle to his touch.

When he took her hand and led her down the hall to the bedroom she went
eagerly. His bedroom was like the rest of the apartment, a mix of expensive
taste and fraternity vulgarity. The king size bed took up most of the
space. There was also a dresser and two night-stands that matched the bed's
large ornate headboard. The sheets were very high quality linen and clean
-- Robyn silently gave thanks for that. There were six pillows piled at the
head of the bed and a down comforter folded at the foot. The room had
several mirrors, including one on the ceiling. In one corner there was a
tripod with a video camcorder which was connected to a small TV on the
corner of the dresser. Like the living room, this room was lit by fragrant
candles strategically placed about on the dresser and night-stands.
Auxiliary speakers brought the soft music from the stereo into the room.

Brad had brought the wine with him and he handed her glass to Robyn. She
sipped and put it on a night-stand. They danced very close for a time,
kissing and nuzzling each other. Soon they weren't really dancing any more,
just swaying gently and kissing. Robyn had been steadily growing more
excited all evening and now she felt herself nearly aching with
anticipation as Brad's tongue entwined with her own. She ran her hands up
his spine, clutched his shoulders. Her pussy was becoming aroused, she felt
a tingling need growing, demanding attention. She slid one leg around him,
pressing her body against him, grinding her crotch into his hardness.

Brad's hand was a teasing warmth sliding up her side, under her sweater.
She felt his strong hand cupping her breast, then he was tugging at her bra
between her breasts and in a moment he'd opened the hook, her breasts
bobbed free. His warm palm gently pressed her breast, feeling its weight,
fingers teasing her nipple. Then his other hand slid up underneath her
sweater and both her breasts were gently kneaded. In moments he was urging
her arms up and he quickly slithered her sweater over her head and tossed
it to a chair. Her bra was next, and she stood nude from the waist up.

Brad admired her breasts a moment then he tenderly traced his fingertips
from her hips up over her belly along her ribs, to rest on the sides of her
breasts, barely even touching her skin. She was breathing faster, her
nipples swelling, heating, aching to be touched. He drew his fingertips
along the side of her breasts, brushing her skin feather-softly, converging
on her nipples, gently tugging them outward. She gasped at the sensations
coursing through her body and tossed her head back, closing her eyes to
savor the feelings. Brad released her nipples then cupped his hands and
moved his palms forward till they were just barely brushing against the
very tips of her nipples. He slowly moved his palms in small circles,
gently rolling her nipples as he did so.

Robyn reached up intending to press his hands more firmly against her, but
just as her hands touched Brad's he turned his arms and gently but firmly
pushed her arms back down to her sides. He leaned over, softly kissed her
neck and whispered in her ear.

"Be patient, Sweet. Just close your eyes and enjoy."

He moved his mouth down her neck, his breath warm on her skin, occasionally
tickling her with lips or tongue or the tip of his nose. Then he was
sucking one of her nipples, his fingers teasing the other one
simultaneously. She gasped as his warm wet soft tongue swirled around her
sensitive flesh. He spent an unmeasurable time teasing her breasts with his
mouth and hands, while also tracing his fingers over her belly and back and
hips. Robyn was moaning in delight. She was only vaguely aware of what was
happening when Brad unsnapped her jeans and slid them down her legs.
Everything just felt so wonderful, she wanted more and more and more.

When Brad lifted her and laid her down on the bed she sighed with joy. He
continued to tease her, tracing his tongue down the line from her navel to
her crotch. She arched herself up as she felt his breath stirring in her
pubic hair, wanting his touch so badly. His tongue grazed the outer lips of
her pussy and she shuddered. But he moved on downwards, gently spreading
her legs and kissing her inner thighs. He positioned himself between her
legs and devoted several minutes to kissing all around her throbbing cunt
but never quite touching it. When she reached down to pull his lips to her
crotch he took her wrists in his hands and held them, pressed to the inside
of her thighs, holding her helplessly wide open while she thrashed her head
back and forth and bucked her hips in sweet aching frustration.

Just when she thought she would die of the demanding need in her pussy Brad
once more ran his tongue over her outer labia. She clenched her imprisoned
hands into fists and bit her lip to stifle a moan. He slipped just the
tiniest fraction of the tip of his tongue past her outer lips and slowly
licked her up and down. His tongue circled her clit, and she jerked as if
electrocuted. He let his mouth sag open and slowly ran the velvet smooth
inner surface of his lower lip upwards along her pussy lips. As he reached
the top his chin was pressed partially into her slit and his lips began
sucking ever so gently on her clit.

Robyn had been quivering at the verge of orgasm for a seemingly timeless
period. The feel of his lips sucking her clit sent her over the edge. She
gasped and felt her body go rigid, her back arched, her mouth open in a
silent scream, as waves of pure ecstasy rushed over her. She began
trembling and uncontrollably pumped her hips, pressing herself upwards to
Brad's mouth. She moaned in delight so loudly it was almost a scream. Brad
increased the pressure and speed of his lips and tongue, keeping her
balanced at the peak for an eternity, then slowed as he sensed the urgency
in her movements lessening.

Robyn couldn't believe how strong her orgasm was, better than any she'd
ever had as a man, it was a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. She
lay gasping, soaked with sweat, limp. It was several moments before she
became aware that Brad was busily kissing her thighs and her belly,
stroking her breasts, and she felt herself growing excited again. Robyn
halfheartedly tried to resist the reignited passion she was feeling. She
felt a bit selfish, Brad hadn't even taken his clothes off yet.

"Mmmm, Brad that was wonderful but rest a bit. I want to make you happy
now." She said languorously.

Brad glanced up from tonguing her navel and grinned. His face glistened
with her juices. "Sweets, I haven't even begun to make you happy!" he said,
then bent down and slipped his tongue inside her cunt.

                                   *****

Much later, they lay entangled together. Dreamily stroking a finger over
the swell of a breast, softly kissing, cheek brushing lightly against sweat
dampened chest hair. Robyn had lost track of how many times she'd climaxed.
She couldn't even guess how long Brad's skillful mouth and fingers had kept
her teetering on the brink of climax, punctuated by gasping orgasms that
seemed to go on and on, blending together. But she was no longer a virgin,
she was positive of that.

After the second or third bout of cunnilingus Brad had guided her hand down
to his cock. She stared at the erection in her hand and felt a strange
sense of displacement, as if something were missing that her mind was
expecting to feel, then she realized she wasn't holding her own penis, but
that of her lover. She fondled it delicately, as if it might break, not
sure she could ever get comfortable touching it. Then Brad's intake of
breath as she tentatively ran her finger along the shaft made her realize
his pleasure was dependent on her fully accepting her new role as a woman.
She tried to relax and open her mind to the new experience. She thought of
all the pleasure Brad had so recently given her, and felt a desire to
reciprocate. Brad's cock wasn't disgusting, she told herself, it was made
for pleasure. She gave it a tiny squeeze and heard Brad moan. Then she
gently pushed it up against his belly and released it, watching it bobble
in the air. It was really rather cute. She was amazed at how large it felt,
and warm. It was velvety smooth, thick, and seemed to throb under her every
touch. When she encircled the shaft her fingers barely met. This huge club
was going to fit inside of her? Her own penis had never felt so big, but
her hands were much smaller now, she reasoned.

She heard a ripping sound and Brad placed a rolled condom in her fingers
and moved her hand to position the condom at the head of his cock. He kept
his fingers over hers and guided her in smoothing it down his shaft. The
condom was lubricated, slick to her touch. She was growing more and more
nervous as the moment of truth drew near. He sensed this and kissed her
ear, whispering endearments. She felt his newly familiar touch in her
pussy, teasing her, arousing her, making her want more. Her worries faded
as his fingers performed their magic, exciting her more and more. When she
began arching herself to him he gently eased her legs apart.

She felt his fingers replaced by something larger, warm and slick. Gently
he eased himself into her. Oh, this was so different, she thought. She felt
herself stretching, wider than before, he was so big. He pushed a bit more
and she arched up then cried out as a sharp pain took her. He held still a
moment and the pain lessened, then pushed a bit deeper. It hurt but she was
terribly excited too. She felt a mixture of fear of the pain and desire to
feel him fully inside her - desire won out. She spread her legs as wide as
possible, reached behind him, grabbed his ass, and pulled him to her. There
was a final burning pain, not so bad as the first. Then she felt Brad's
weight grinding into her mound, he was inside her to the hilt.

Brad took things slowly, moving gently, watching her face for signs of
discomfort. All the oral stimulation had left her literally dripping with
lubrication which helped enormously. The pain faded and she began to feel
renewed excitement and he slowly increased his pace. Soon she was clenching
her vaginal muscles reflexively, squeezing his cock as it slid in and out
ever more rapidly. She hugged him with her legs, her heels pressing into
the small of his back, her hands clutching his arms, nails biting into his
skin. She felt herself nearing orgasm and voluntary control of her body
slipped away. She bucked and arched herself to meet his thrusts,
animal-like, savage in her need. Then she was there, climaxing, clinging to
him desperately, wanting to pull all of him inside her. Several seconds
into her orgasm Brad came also. His body spasmed and he thrust himself into
her to the limit of his shaft. He remained rigid a moment, frozen inside
her, then eased down from the peak, reflexively pumping himself slowly in
and out to extend the moment.

Robyn's orgasm faded and she regained control of herself. Brad was still
hard inside her, but unmoving. He was ever so slowly shrinking. She felt
his weight pressing her hips into the bed, but he balanced his upper body
on his forearms. She relaxed her death grip on his arms and hips and
tenderly ran her hands over his back and up to his hair.

"Ohhhh, am I still alive?" she murmured.

"Maybe not for long." Brad teasingly replied, leaning down to kiss her.

7. Chapter

Robyn felt she was in heaven. She'd never even imagined it was possible to
be this happy. Brad had awakened her early with teasing kisses to her
nipples and a probing finger in her pussy. She grew slick and ready almost
instantly and Brad mounted her. She eagerly spread herself wide for him.
The feel of his cock sliding in and out of her was a newly familiar joy.
They made love dreamily, both of them still in the warm shadowy place
between sleep and full wakefulness. She enjoyed the slow dreamy pace. It
was different from the hungry urgency of last night, seeming more intimate
and tender. She orgasmed before him, a slow blossoming pleasure rather than
the mind blanking explosions of last night, not as intense but very sweet
nonetheless.

Brad hadn't yet climaxed and he continued fucking her for several minutes
after her orgasm faded. She studied him as he moved over her, thrusting
himself into her, blindly striving for release. His eyes were closed and
his face seemed intent, as though concentrating. She held him, stroked his
back, matched his pace, met his thrusts with her hips, coaxed him towards
climax with whispered endearments and small moans of passion. This was
different from the first time too, more a sense of sharing, giving, rather
than just accepting. The previous night she had lost all control and had
felt like she was being buffeted by a force of nature. Now she could focus
on what Brad was doing. She could sense when he liked something -- a
movement, a pressure, a touch -- and she actively worked at increasing his
enjoyment of their loving. When Brad finally shuddered in orgasm she felt a
sense of joy in giving him pleasure.

During the night they had made love three times before slipping into a deep
sleep, both of them totally satiated and exhausted. Robyn felt a sense of
euphoria, practically bubbling with happiness over all that had happened
last night. Brad had treated her so special, given her so much pleasure.
But beyond the mere physical pleasure of sex, the intimacy of having
another person cuddle and stroke and touch her was something she'd been
starved for her entire life. She had never felt the loving touch of another
human before and hadn't even realized how achingly lonely she had been.
Now, while she lay clinging tightly to Brad as he descended from his
orgasmic heights, she felt tears welling in her eyes. She wept silently in
gratitude for what she'd just experienced, in regret for all she'd missed
out of life in her previous joyless existence, and in sorrow at the
unfairness of all those like Bob who never found someone to share this
wonderful contact with another person. She sniffled and blinked back her
tears, trying to get a grip before she lost it completely.

Brad noticed her sniffling and raised his head to look down in her eyes.
"What's wrong Sweets?'' he asked in concern.

"Nothing. I'm just so happy '' Robyn whispered through her constricted
throat. Oh how trite. She had never understood that old cliche. The closest
she'd ever come to what she was feeling now was when she'd get a bit misty
during the final scene of It's A Wonderful Life when everybody came to
Jimmy Stewart's rescue. But this inexplicable flood of emotion when she
should be feeling good was far beyond anything she'd experienced from just
watching a tearjerker movie. She was still unaccustomed to the way her
emotions seemed to run out of control so easily and it was disconcerting to
get all choked up so suddenly. The really strange thing was that she felt a
sense of release. She felt really good, sort of serene, possibly better
than if she hadn't had the emotional outburst. But her crying made her
vaguely embarrassed too, and she mentally castigated herself for acting
foolish. She managed a wan smile to reassure Brad, her eyes still
glistening with tears. Then almost involuntarily she let out an explosive
little self-deprecating laugh that was more than half sob, and hugged Brad
fiercely with her entire body.

Brad kissed her tenderly and said, "You're really something, Sweetie.''
Then he rolled over, cradling her to him, somehow keeping himself partially
inside of her, and gently pulled her head down to lay on his shoulder.

They lay for a bit, entangled together, their breathing returning to
normal. Both silently basking in the afterglow. She thought about Brad and
all they'd shared together. She felt a great tenderness for him. He was so
warm and caring, nothing at all like Cathy seemed to think of him. He knew
she was virgin last night but he hadn't made a big deal over it, careful
not to make her nervous or self-conscious. He had calmly guided her, being
slow and gentle so as not to harm her. He devoted himself to making her
first time truly memorable. And it had been. Better than she could have
ever dreamed. He seemed to know just where to touch her, just how to touch
her, to give her the most delicious sensations. The orgasms she'd had at
his touch were impossibly beyond the very best she'd ever felt from
masturbation when she was a man.

Besides enjoying the pleasure Brad gave her during sex, she felt an
attraction for Brad as a man. She realized that she saw his body as sexy.
Brad was large and strong and very masculine. When she'd been Bob she
hadn't looked twice at another man, never understood how sexy a man's body
could be, never really gave it any thought at all. But now she was very
much attracted by Brad physically. He was like a great powerful beast and
his physical power, compared with her own new, weaker, body aroused her
tremendously. She thought of how he'd held her during their lovemaking. How
he'd effortlessly manipulated her body, yet had remained gentle, never
hurting her, while making her feel totally overwhelmed physically. She
couldn't explain why she was having these feelings for a man, something
which would have been unthinkable when she was Bob, but she couldn't deny
how he made her feel. She was almost reluctant to admit, even to herself,
that what she was feeling might be what a normal woman would feel for her
lover.

After a bit Brad stirred, patted her hip and said he needed to take a
shower. He rose from the bed, leaving her to burrow into the last remnants
of his warmth in the rumpled bedding. She watched appreciatively as he
stretched a bit, enjoying the way the morning light played on his skin as
the muscles bunched and flexed. He grabbed a pair of silk boxers which she
figured he kept for just such occasions and walked out the door, leaving
her still laying in the bed. She hugged herself, remembering how Brad had
held her last night, and thought how wonderful it was to be alive.

She sat up and spent a few moments checking herself out for any changes or
signs of damage from losing her virginity. She really didn't know what to
expect. From stories she'd heard she thought it would have hurt a lot more
than it had and that she should have bled rather a lot. There was some
trace of blood dried on her inner thighs but not too much. She felt a bit
tender in her pussy, and slightly achy in her breasts. But all in all there
didn't seem to be any alarming aftereffects.

When she heard the water start running, Robyn tiptoed into the bathroom and
surprised Brad in the shower. She always thought the shared shower scenes
in movies looked like so much fun and now here she was living out one of
her fantasies, except as the girl instead of the guy. She was feeling
playful and impulsive and she indulged herself by tickling and teasing
Brad. She was learning to exploit the cultural bias that a beautiful woman
acting silly was considered endearing. After years of worrying what people
might think, she wallowed in the sense of freedom to just enjoy herself
without inhibitions. As Robyn she could get away with behavior that would
have earned Bob a punch in the nose. Hell, looking the way she did now she
was almost expected to be a ditsy flirt. She felt like a child again as she
tickled Brad. And she actually shrieked and giggled, sounding like a
teenage girl, when he trapped her arms and tickled her ribs in retaliation.

Eventually their frolicking became more languid and they began washing each
other with long slow passionate strokes over each other's body. It was a
sensual delight soaping each other and she felt herself becoming aroused
again. But Brad kissed her and moved her hand away when she tried to tease
his cock to erection. He said he didn't have any condoms left but promised
her later. So they postponed lovemaking for the moment and contented
themselves with lingering touches and passionate kisses. She was a little
disappointed but the sensuous thrill of his hands gliding over her skin,
their bodies sliding together wet and slick in the steamy warmth was an
experience to be remembered even without intercourse. With a sense of sweet
self-denial they pulled themselves away from each other before they lost
control, managed to put aside their desire for more, and finished washing
each other.

She hadn't washed her hair since the change and it was wet from the shower
anyway so she decided to use Brad's shampoo. But she had trouble managing
the sheer bulk of her hair. She'd thought it was heavy before, now it felt
positively leaden all soaked with water. She was discovering how much of a
problem long hair really was. Working the shampoo completely through the
volume of her hair with her long fingernails was difficult, tedious, and
time consuming, and rinsing all the lather out took forever. In all she
spent a good fifteen minutes just on her hair, which was maybe fourteen
minutes longer than it used to take Bob.

Brad left the shower while she was still rinsing her hair and was out of
the bathroom by the time she turned off the water. She toweled off as
quickly as she could and tried to dry her hair. She rubbed her head with a
towel and tried squeezing her hair into the towel. After several minutes'
toweling, her hair was still damp and it had become one great mass of
snarls. She decided she absolutely must pick up some conditioner as soon as
she had the chance. She dreaded the thought of putting a comb through the
rats' nest of tangles, so she wrapped a towel around her head, and another
one around her body and went out in search of Brad.

She padded out to the kitchen and found him sipping coffee in his boxers.
She poured herself a cup and sat next to him, affectionately running her
hand along his forearm down to his hand where it lay on the table holding
his mug. She felt so content, totally happy and ready to spend the entire
day just being with Brad. She kept waiting for him to suggest something for
them to do together, but he seemed lost in thought, sipping his coffee
silently. She couldn't understand why he seemed so pensive and withdrawn
and she began to feel apprehensive. All her efforts to draw him into
conversation were met with distracted responses and she soon gave up and
waited quietly for him to open up. Finally he looked at her and seemed to
force a smile.

"Sweet, you're fantastic,'' he said.

Robyn blushed and smiled nervously. She dreaded the "but'' that she felt
was surely coming. In an effort to divert him she said in what she hoped
was a sexy voice, "I can't believe how wonderful last night was.''

"It would be even better if we didn't have to worry about those damn
rubbers,'' Brad said. He hesitated a moment, then asked a bit hopefully,
"You're not on birth control, are you?''

"Nooo I never had a need to until now.'' She said cautiously.

Robyn felt her ebullient mood slip away and her smile faded as she
considered what Brad was driving at. His previous moody silence fed her
insecurities and she was expecting the worst, a "thanks for the fuck, I'll
see ya around''. When he hadn't come right out with a brush-off she
interpreted what he had said in the worst possible light. To her
hypersensitive mind he sounded suspiciously manipulative, just as Cathy'd
predicted. There seemed to be a suggestion in his question that she should
assume the full burden of responsibility for safe sex and possibly an
implied threat that if she didn't he would no longer want anything to do
with her. She was beginning to see some of the implications of how getting
involved with Brad could complicate her life. She hadn't really thought
beyond the pleasure of the moment. What about her commitment to changing
herself back to a man --- where would that leave her and Brad once she was
ready to change back? Was it wise to continue seeing him at all, even now?
Wouldn't it be easier in the long run if she just ended the whole mess
right now before things got totally out of hand? Her happy mood shattered
and her mind spiraled ever deeper into negativity.

Brad interrupted her despondent thoughts. "Why don't you think about it,
Robyn? I don't want to push or anything. It's just that I mean there's
always a chance of a rubber breaking. And you don't want to risk getting
pregnant.'' He lifted her chin so she faced him and flashed her his most
disarming smile. "I know it's like way weird to be talking about stuff like
this, but it's something we need to think about. I really like you, Robyn.
I'd like to see more of you.''

Robyn smiled broadly, her eyes sparkling once again. Like a yo-yo her
feelings soared up from the depths into which they'd plummeted just seconds
ago. When he put it that way, it made sense --- he was merely being
prudent, not trying to manipulate her at all. Besides, she should share
responsibility, it was her body after all. And best of all was that Brad
wanted to continue seeing her! She felt her doubts about continuing with
this crazy relationship melting under the radiance of his smile. Maybe she
could still go out with him as long as she kept her head and remembered
that it was only temporary. He was certainly fun to be with. And the sex
was out of this world, she wryly reminded herself. If she was stuck in this
body, she might as well enjoy it. No sense worrying about it until the time
came to change back, she rationalized.

In her relief that Brad wasn't dumping her she didn't even see how
strangely fragile her emotional state was. It was as if she were poised on
a knife edge and the slightest provocation could push her into despair or
anger or back into oblivious happiness. She couldn't analyze her feelings
for Brad, she wanted his approval and when he had withdrawn from her it had
made her insecure and frightened. It made her feel vulnerable and
uncertain. All the attention he gave her and the shared intimacy had left
her wanting more. She practically wriggled like a puppy each time he
complimented her.

"I'd like to see more of you too, Brad.'' She said shyly. "And I'll think
about birth control.''

"Good.''

Brad brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. His smile was broadly
triumphant. He thought to himself how easily the naive little bimbo had
fallen under his charms. It was still a wonder to him that such a delicious
piece of ass had kept her virginity so long. She was one of the most
beautiful women he'd known, and seemed totally innocent, unaware of how
easily she could use her beauty to manipulate men. That was so rare in a
truly beautiful woman, most were all too sure of themselves, knew exactly
how their bodies affected men. She was still shy and inhibited in bed but
Brad would change that. She seemed so eager and hot for his touch, he knew
he'd have her eating out of his hand in no time at all. But right now the
best plan was to keep her guessing, off balance and wanting more.

He gave her a sad smile and said regretfully, "I'm really sorry about this,
Sweetie, but I have to go out soon. Much as I'd rather spend the day with
you I need to take care of something at my fraternity.'' Yeah, there's
supposed to be a keg and a fooseball tournament this afternoon, he reminded
himself. "I'll give you a call later this evening, if that's okay?''

Robyn was disappointed but she tried not to show it. Even though she wished
she could stay with him, she realized he had a life and couldn't be
expected to just drop his previous plans. After all, he'd only just met her
as Robyn two days ago. And he did promise to call her, oh she hoped he
would!

"That's okay, Brad. Cathy said she'd stop by today anyway. But later on
yeah, I should be home if you want to call me.''

Brad grinned. The hopeful look on her face was assurance that she'd be
waiting by the phone for his call. Brad loved women, he was a real stud and
probably would have a difficult time remembering all the women he'd slept
with. He loved the sex, no doubt about that, but he loved the sense of
conquest best of all, the feeling that a girl was falling in love with him.
His ego would have rejected the notion that he used women, he prided
himself on being a fantastic lover and a fun date. To his mind he gave far
more to the women he became involved with than he took from them. It wasn't
his fault if a girl read more into their relationship than fun and sex, he
never promised more than that. He had been drawn to Robyn's beauty when he
first saw her but it was her innocence that appealed to him most. Within
moments of meeting her he knew she would be more fun than just a one night
stand for him. He figured it would be several weeks, maybe months even, of
great sex and good partying while he gently taught her her womanhood.

They finished their coffee and got dressed. Just before they left the
apartment he kissed her passionately, bringing her to panting arousal and
then broke away, leaving her feeling tingly and wanting. He sighed and said
"I'll be thinking about you all day, Sweetie.'' Then he got in his car and
drove off.

She went back to her place, head still damp and busied herself by trying to
unsnarl her hair. It was still early morning and she missed Brad already.

To Be Continued...

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