[bane22]

Friday, 8:20 PM

The ride to the mall was quick and quiet. I spent most of it looking in the side-view mirror, going over the changes again and again. Sarah found a parking spot close to the entrance, we got out and headed to the main entrance. I stopped short of the door, as I could see through the glass that there were still quite a few people wandering around the various department stores. A sudden thought occurred to me: I was about to appear in public as a woman for the first time. I found myself feeling very self-conscious, and tried to straighten out my ill-fitting apparel as best as I could. My best friend must’ve sensed my nervousness, as she put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and guided me into the mall.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but our entrance went completely unnoticed. No one pointed and stared, there was no fanfare, and the roof didn’t fall in, so I guess we have that going for us. I took very deliberate steps, trying my best not to trip on my footwear. I hitched up my jeans as discreetly as I could, and fell in lockstep with Sarah. She guided me straight to a nearby boutique that seemed to specialize in young women’s attire.

To my mild surprise, she led me to a bench in the back of the store near the dressing rooms. “Wait here,” she said softly. “We don’t want you stumbling around here and drawing attention. I’ll pick some outfits for you, and we can see where it goes.”

She treks off into the forest of clothing racks, so I take a seat on the bench. I find myself looking around, worrying about being somehow recognized. Fortunately, it seems to be a slow night for the store, as the other customers are few and far between. After a few restless minutes, Sarah returns with arms full of various garments. “OK, I lets head into one of the changing rooms.”

I follow her in obediently. She leads me into one of the larger rooms (probably intended for handicap use) and locks the door. “Alright, let’s get the awkward out of the way. Shirt off, I have to figure out what I’m working with.”

I feel my cheeks flush again, and I realize I’m probably going to be spending a lot of this weekend red-faced. I pull the hoody off and hang it on a hook. Then after a deep breath, I lift my shirt up and over, tossing it onto the seat at the far corner of the stall. I stand there, shirtless in front of my crush. She simply stares at my chest while rubbing her chin thoughtfully. Finally I say, “Well, have you figured out what size I am?”

She seems to snap out of her reverie. “Huh? Oh sorry, I got distracted by something….well, two somethings anyway.”

My shoulders slump. “Come on, be serious about this.”

She grins. “Oh come on, it’s not like I wasn’t going to see you like this at some point anyways. This is just like a sneak peak of what’s to come.”

In the mirror at the far end of the stall I can see my face has just gone fire-engine-red. Sarah picks through some of the clothes she gathered, and retrieves a red bra. “This should do nicely,” she says more to herself than me. She helps guide my arms through the straps, then pulls it closed behind me. The silky fabric of the bra feels wonderful, and my breasts no longer feel like they’re either just hanging or about to bounce off my torso. In fact they feel kinda nice.

“Wow,” I mumble.

“Always trust you tailor!” Sarah replies cheerfully. She returns to the pile and retrieves a matching set of red panties. “I’ll give you a little privacy for this part,” she says, then covers her eyes with her hands.

I unlace my sneakers and slip my feet out of my shoes and socks. I once again undo my belt and unzip my jeans and let them drop to the ground, along with my over-sized boxers. I step out of my old pants and underwear, and promptly slip on the panties. They feel a little tight, but not uncomfortably so. There’s lace sown into the sides, which gives a feeling of little to nothing there. I look in the mirror, and realize I look pretty damn hot. I also realize for the first time tonight, I’m completely free of my old clothes. I turn to look at my rear, and am pleased with how the new panties show it off. Finally finished and pleased with the results, I say to Sarah, “OK, what else you got for me?”

Sarah opens her eyes, and her smile beams at me. “Hey, looking good! Turn around for me!” I give her a quick turn like I’m on a modelling catwalk. “Nice! I have a couple other sets of lingerie here; that should give us a few days’ worth of options.” She turns back to the remaining clothes. “We’ll only pick up two or three outfits for you, but I want to take the opportunity to play a little dress up with you.” She grins fiercely. “Hope you don’t mind.”

I decide now is the time to unleash the sexy smile I found earlier in the bathroom mirror. “Sure, why not?” Sarah positively glows, as she begins pawing through the garments. She hands me the first outfit; a white tank top and cut-off jean shorts. The top practically clings to my body, showing off every curve, while the shorts show off my legs. I look in the mirror while Sarah is positively giddy with excitement. “Damn, I look good!” I say. It’s not an exaggeration either; the woman in the mirror is the sexiest I’ve ever seen. I’m surprised how comfortable everything fits too. It really boosts my mood, and I find myself getting into this even more.

“Yeah, you do!” Sarah agrees. “But we probably won’t get this outfit. It’s a bit too cold for shorts. I just wanted a good look at those legs.”

I extend my left leg like I’m a hitchhiker. “Like what you see?” I ask, surprised at how playful I’m being.

To my astonishment, Sarah actually blushes. In the two years I’ve know her, I’ve never seen that happen. We look into each other’s eyes. For a moment, it feels like my heart is going to leap out of my chest. The room feels warm, and my right hand unconsciously traces a line up my left arm. After a moment, Sarah clears her throat, and begins looking through other outfits.

The next outfit is a slinky black cocktail dress, literally the definition of the ‘little black dress’ stereotype. Despite its simple appearance, this one takes a bit of help from Sarah to put on. There’s a zipper hidden along the side, and it clings tightly to my body. The struggle is worth it however, as the resulting reflection I see could be on the cover of a fashion magazine. The hem stops at my upper thighs, the neckline plunges down to give an ample view of my cleavage, and everything in between clings tightly enough that it leaves very little to the imagination about my overall shape. I spin around in front of the mirror several times, taking in every detail I can. Sarah seems even more pleased. “I’m not sure how often you’ll get to wear that,” she says lustfully, “but I’m buying you that one.”

“No argument here,” I reply. I realize in that moment just how into this I’m getting. I start to wonder if maybe my magical transformation is starting to get to my mind somehow. I picture what is generally accepted as a hot guy, but feel absolutely nothing. I turn to face Sarah, who is facing away from me, bent over the pile of clothes she gathered. I take a moment to admire her firm buttocks, and take solace in the fact that my sexual preferences seem intact at least.

Next on the dress-up menu is a pair of white leggings and an emerald-green sweater. This outfit isn’t as sensational as the others have been, but it’s quite a bit more practical for the seasonal weather. Still, the leggings show off my calves and thighs, and the sweater isn’t so bulky as to preclude my upper assets. I give my tacit approval for this one, and Sarah agrees.

The last outfit is a bit more traditional. A black t-shirt with hot-pink highlights, and a pair of skinny jeans. This feels more like a regular ‘walking around’ kind of garb, and I immediately feel comfortable. “I think this is what I should wear out,” I say, taking a few steps around the booth.

“My thoughts exactly,” Sarah nods in agreement. She hands me a pair
of ankle-socks, which fit just right. She tears the tags off everything I’m wearing, then puts all the clothes she’s buying into a pile. She folds up my old jeans, t-shirt, socks and boxers, and puts them with the clothes she’s buying. “There’s a shoe store a few doors down. Until then, you’ll have to hang onto your old sneaks for a bit longer.”

I lace up my sneakers one more time. The fitted socks help a bit, but it still feels weird wearing the wrong-sized shoes. We leave the changing booth, and stop at the counter, where Sarah pays for the dress, sweater, leggings, lingerie, and the clothes I’m currently wearing. The cashier bags up the outfits, and Sarah tosses my old clothes into the bag with them.

We head back out into the mall, and I immediately feel a lot less self-conscious. I begin to realize a lot of my anxiety was from wearing my old clothes. Now I feel like my old self, but like I’m wearing a mask, hidden and unrecognized by all around me (even though none of the strangers in the mall would have any idea who I was in my untransformed state to begin with).

As we approach the shoe store, a thought occurs to me. “You’re not going to get me like stiletto heels or something, are you?” I ask cautiously.

Sarah giggles. “No, for your first time out, we’ll keep it simple.”

She leads me into the store and we stop at the women’s section. After a bit of hunting, Sarah finds one of the foot measuring tools. I slip out of my old sneakers, and measure out a size 6.5 (a far cry from my usual size 9, though I’m not sure how that translates from men’s size to women’s). Sarah turns to the racks of shoeboxes, and returns with a pair of lady’s Chuck Taylors. Opening the box, I see to my surprise they’re a generic black. “No pink?” I ask, figuring I’d be in for the girliest shoes possible.

“These’ll match with more outfits. Good to go versatile for your first pair of shoes.”

I arch an eyebrow. “How many shoes am I going to need?”

Sarah laughs, then leans in and whispers, “I know you haven’t been a woman for long, but trust me, this is like a girl’s rite of passage. More shoes is better shoes.”

I smile, take the sneakers out of the box, and slip them onto my feet. The difference feels excellent, the sneakers fit snuggly, and for the first time since this adventure started, I feel properly dressed. My old shoes go into the box, and Sarah pays at the counter.

We step back into the mall, and I practically have a bounce in my step. I feel so girly I’m practically seeing unicorns and rainbows. “Wanna shop some more?” I ask cheerfully.

Sarah seems happy I’m enjoying myself. “Having a good time?” she asks.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m loving shopping!”

Sarah checks her watch. “Actually, I think the mall is closing soon.”

“Oh,” I say dejectedly. I’m sad the mall is closing, what is happening to me?

Sarah puts a reassuring arm around my shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of time to play. For now, let’s head back to your apartment.”

I slip on my hoodie, which feels a bit large on me. Before I can say anything, Sarah reassures me, “Don’t worry, wearing boy’s hoodies is in style right now.”

We head back out to Sarah’s car, and I strap in. As Sarah starts the car, she asks, “So, feeling more at home?”

I nod. “Yeah, it’s kinda weird. It’s like I know I’m not me, but I feel way more comfortable.”

Sarah laughs as she starts backing out of the parking space. “Retail therapy is totally a thing.”

“I’ll never mock it again.”

As Sarah starts the short drive home, I ask, “So what else are we doing tonight?”

“Nothing,” Sarah replied. “I’ll show you how to get ready for bed and all, but I want you to spend tonight getting used to your new body.”

“Really?” I ask, perhaps a bit disappointed.

“Trust me, I don’t want to crowd in on a new experience for you too much.” She gives me a quick mischievous grin. “Don’t get too used to it though. Tomorrow, you’re all mine.”

“Oh my god,” I mumble shyly as I look away, trying to hide the giant smile on my face. I catch another glimpse of myself in the sideview mirror. The new face is definitely growing on me, and I seem to be smiling a lot more. I find myself feeling I could get used to this.