[bane22]

Saturday, 9:57 AM

My eyes flutter open to the familiar site of my bedroom. Outside the wind is rustling through the trees, sending scattered autumn leaves to float lazily to the ground. I feel well-rested, and stretch my limbs underneath the covers. After lounging around, I finally push the covers off, and in my morning grogginess have the shock of my life as I see what’s underneath. It takes me a moment to remember what happened last night, and that the female body I’m sporting is normal.

With the panic subsiding, I take a moment to run my hands over my nightie-covered body. All the new curves are right where they should be, my breasts are as firm (and sensitive) as ever, and my ‘little buddy’ has been replaced with a ‘silken purse.’ I hop out of bed, surprised that the floor seems to take longer to meet my feet. It takes another moment to remember I’m several inches shorter than I used to be.

I skip over to the bathroom, and stop at the mirror (which I realize I’m spending a lot of time looking at myself, though it’s excusable under the circumstances). My hair is still tied into a pony tail from the night before, so I pull the hair tie from my head. My blonde locks spill free, and I flick them playfully around my neck. I run my fingers through my hair, pulling several knots apart that developed overnight.

I’ll spare the gruesome details of the morning bathroom routine. Suffice it to say, using the toilet was a new experience, and I spent much longer time in the shower, using hot and cold water at different times. I had to fight the urge to play with my boobs in the shower; the sight of water running down them was almost mesmerizing (I guess I can take comfort that I still have a guy’s mind). With my lengthy shower concluded, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around my body, then my spare towel around my hair. It took my two tries to get the hair-wrap down, but eventually I got it.

I had finished securing my hair in its new towel-prison, when there was a knock on the front door. Without a second thought, I walked over and opened it. As I opened it, I belatedly remembered I’m dressed in nothing but bath towels. Fortunately, it was Sarah. She grins at me. “Oh good, you’re up,” she says, noticing what I was wearing. “Did you follow my washing instructions?”

“Sure did,” I reply cheerfully.

“Great. Come on over to my place, I’ve got something set up for us.”

I look both directions down the hallway outside my apartment. “Can I get dressed first?”

Sarah looks impatient. “It’s literally down the hall, just come on!” She grabs my hand, and I have just enough time to pull the door closed behind me (in hindsight, I forgot my keys, but it doesn’t matter since I also didn’t lock up). There’s a soft pitter-patter as my bare feet thump on the apartment’s hallway. We get to Sarah’s place, which is literally down the hall from us, and she lets me in.

Her apartment is slightly smaller than mine, but she’s done more with it. There are several planters scattered about, giving the place a splash of green to break up the beige wallpaper. Her couch is slightly nicer than mine, and is a deep purple upholstery. There are also two loungers along the far wall. Some kind of new age music is playing softly from a source I can’t see, and there’s a fragrance of lavender wafting in the air; I notice the aromatherapy candles a moment later.

“OK,” Sarah says, sounding a bit like a cruise activities director. “I originally thought about taking you to a day spa, but I feel like that would be a bit overwhelming, what with having strangers giving you massages and whatnot. So, I brought the spa to you. I’m going to make you all pretty, so we can have a nice first date tonight.”

I feel genuinely touched at the thought of doing all this for my sake. “This is really awesome of you,” I say to her. “Alright, what do I do first?”

“Well, I have a few more things to prepare,” she replies as she walks over to a shoe box sitting on the couch, “so you can start practicing with these.” She opens the box and takes out a pair of stylish looking black heels.

I arch an eyebrow. “I thought you said you weren’t going to start me with heels.”

“That was last night. Tonight, I want you wearing that little dress we got for you. Wearing these will help complete the look.” She puts the footwear in my hands. “Don’t worry, we won’t do much walking around, or anything complicated. Just think of it like you’re balancing on the front of your feet, and you’ve got something stuck to your heels.”

After helping me put the shoes on, she heads off to her kitchen, and starts working on something. I awkwardly flail about for a few minutes, and come close to toppling once or twice, but eventually I’m walking well enough that I can at least make it short distances without falling on my face. I don’t exactly look elegant, but it’s not like this will be a long-term commitment or anything.

Sarah returns from the kitchen and smiles with satisfaction at my progress. “Looks like you’re getting the hang of it.”

“I won’t be entering any dancing contests, but it’ll do for the day. Are they supposed to pinch a little?”

“A little. They’re made to make you look good first, with comfort a distant second or third.” She walks past me to her bathroom, and emerges with a fluffy white robe. “This is my spare. I just washed it two days ago, and haven’t worn it since. You can slip into this one, and I’ll slip into my regular robe in the bathroom.”

I take the robe, and as soon as Sarah leaves I drop the towel from my body. I slip the robe on, and feel luxuriated in the softness. I don’t traditionally wear bathrobes, but I had one when I was a kid. If it had felt like this, I’d probably never take it off. It’s like wearing a fuzzy cloud, every inch caressing my skin.

Sarah walks out a few moments later dressed in a plaid robe of similar make as the one she gave me. “Just out of curiosity,” I ask, “is there something special about women’s bathrobes that make them feel this good, or is it just a girl thing?”

Sarah giggles. “Never underestimate the sensitivity of a girl’s body. Here, have a seat,” she says as she gestures to one of the recliners.

I take a seat in the recliner, and it seems to wrap around me. The robe rubs up on all the right places, and I feel incredibly relaxed. Sarah brings over a folding table and sets it next to my left side. Then she places two bowls filled with a white liquid in them. “First up, a nice paraffin treatment to prepare for your manicure.” She scoots a second table to my other side, and places another bowl. Finally she lifts my hand and gently dips it in the substance. It’s warm, but not too hot, leaving me feel soothed. I dip my other hand into the same substance. Sarah finally sits down in the other recliner, and dips her hands into her own bowls.

“Mmm,” I hum softly. “This is nice.”

“Glad you approve,” Sarah says, her own voice showing how relaxed she’s become. We relax and listen to the soft music in the background until Sarah asks, “So, how are you enjoying yourself, Madison?” She puts a little emphasis on the name she picked for me.

I roll my head over and smile. “I gotta be honest, I didn’t think I’d be enjoying myself this much.”

She smiles gently. “Did you sleep good?”

“Pretty well. Wake up was a bit of a surprise, like, ‘OMG who’s this in my bed?’”

Sarah laughs. “I’ll bet you never woke to anything like that before!”

“It took me a bit to remember what happened.”

We finish the treatment, and wipe the remaining paraffin from our hands. She brings over some red nail polish next. I sit patiently while she paints my nails with small delicate strokes. “Keep your fingers separated for a while,” she advises me. “Those need a chance to dry off.” She then does the same to my toes. I take a moment to admire my fingernails. The ruby-red polish looks striking, and really give my fingers more pop.

Once she’s done with the nails, she takes the towel off my head and starts working with my hair. I can’t really see what she’s doing, but I can feel brushes running through it, I think I saw a curling iron being used, and I see a few bobby pins in her hands. Finally, once she’s finished with the hair, Sarah walks out of the bathroom with a make-up kit. I can’t help but feel a bit apprehensive at this point. She senses my worry, and reassures me, “Don’t worry, it’s just make-up. It won’t hurt you.”

I close my eyes, and Sarah goes to work. I can feel lip gloss being applied to my lips, mascara brushed onto my eye lashes, and a soft pad dabbing my cheeks. After what feels like an eternity, Sarah proudly announces, “All done! Take a look at the new-new you.”

I open my eyes to a hand-mirror Sarah has produced. If I looked sexy last night, I look drop-dead gorgeous now. My lashes seem to accentuate my soft-blue eyes now. My ruby lips match the color of my nails. My face was already pretty smooth, but now it looks like it was painted by a master artist. The blonde locks on top of my head look sculpted, and make me think of the kind of style you’d see in classic Hollywood movies. My jaw has dropped at the amazing transformation I just underwent. “Wow,” I finally manage to eek out of my mouth, a massive smile forming on my face.

“Not too bad, if I do say so myself.” Sarah straightens up. “OK, so tonight, I ordered delivery from that fancy Italian place on 4th St. Your dress and heels are in my bathroom. You can go get changed there, than hang out for a bit while I make myself look pretty.”

I stand up, and saunter into her bathroom. The cocktail dress is hanging from a hangar, the heels are right below that, and a black bra and matching lace panties are sitting on the counter next to the sink. I manage to get the bra on (with a minimal amount of struggling with the clasp) and the panties soon follow. Both are much lacier than the red pair I wore last night, and they feel pretty nice. I slip into the slinky dress, and manage to zip it up on my own. Finally, I slide the heels back on. I walk over to her bathroom mirror, my heels clicking on the tile floor. The final look is enough to make any one drop to their knees and thank whatever deity they want for the creation of women.

I step out, but don’t see Sarah anywhere. “You done?” her voice calls out from her bedroom.

“Yeah,” I call back.

“Just stay in the living room until I’m done, I don’t want to spoil the surprise of how you look now until dinner.”

I walk over to the living room, and think about firing up a video game to amuse myself with. The truth is, I’m too anxious to focus on gaming right now. I practice some sexy poses, or at least what I think are sexy poses. I sit down on the couch and practice crossing my legs. My right leg crosses over the left, leaving my right foot dangling and pointing forward. I try some sexy sitting poses, though without a mirror I’m not sure how successful I am.

After about an hour, there’s a knock on the door. “Can you get that?” Sarah’s voice calls out, this time from the bathroom. I strut over to the front door and open it. Standing there is a guy dressed in a delivery uniform and carrying a warming bag. He’s about my age, probably even goes to the same school as me and Sarah. His eyes scan me up and down, and his jaw just sort of hangs partly open. It takes me a hot second to remember just what he’s looking at. “Yes?” I ask.

“Oh, uh, delivery for me…for you! I mean for you!” He fumbles. He reaches into the red vinyl bag, and brings out two Styrofoam take-out containers.
I take them, and say, “Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, uh no charge! I mean, ah, it was paid for by credit card over the phone.”

“Oh. Thanks.” I start to close the door.

The delivery guy must’ve been feeling gutsy, because he blurts out, “I’m Mike!”

I pause in surprise. “Oh. I’m…” I came THIS close to saying my real name. “Uh…Madison.”

Mike seems pleased with himself at his courage. “You, uh, doing anything later?”

I arch an eyebrow at him, then nod at the two meals he just handed me. “One of these is for my date.”

There’s no missing the disappointment on Mike’s face. “Oh.”

I take a moment to make sure that sunk in, then say “Goodnight.” I close the door before anything else can happen. I set the food down on the dining table in Sarah’s kitchen. The full weight of what just happened finally hits me. A guy just hit on me. Granted I look like a movie star crossed with a fashion model, but still! I felt a little bad for shutting him down like that, but still it was weird getting that from a dude. In fact, I don’t think anyone’s ever hit on me, I’ve always had to make the first move.

Just then, I hear a familiar voice behind me say, “Hi.” I turn, and there’s Sarah. She’s wearing a maroon dress that reaches the ground. A slit on the left side lets her olive-colored leg slip out as a tantalizing reminder of the beauty that lies beneath. A pair of stiletto heels are giving her claves the most sensual look I’ve ever seen. The neckline plunges gloriously downward, giving ample view of her magnificent bosoms. Her hair has been done up in a similar style as mine; the cocoa brown complimenting my golden blonde. Her deep red lips part to reveal a dazzlingly white smile that could light up the universe.

She puts her hands on her hips. “Well don’t you look like a tall drink of water.”

Even though I’m sure I’m blushing, I meet her stare with a smile of my own. “Same to you, beautiful.”

Sarah crosses the living room like a model walking a catwalk. She gets out two plates and we spread our dinners on them to make the meal look a little more authentic. Finally, she brings over two candles and lights them on the middle of the table, giving us a suitably romantic atmosphere.

As we begin our first date night together, I decide to mention the incident with the delivery guy. “So, in the interests of honesty, I have to tell you about what happened while you were getting ready.”

She looks up at me from her plate of veal parmesan. “Oh? What happened?”

“I’m pretty sure the delivery boy made a pass at me.”

Sarah laughs. “Get used to it honey, it happens to me all the time.”

I laugh myself, more at being called ‘honey’ than anything else. “How do you get used to it?”

Sarah shrugs. “Just let it go. A guy sees someone who looks like you, especially dressed like that, and the only reason he wouldn’t take a shot at asking you out is if he’s clinically dead. What’d you tell him?”

“That the dinners were for me and my date tonight.”

“Bravo!” Sarah gives me a little golf clap. “Way to let him down easy. You’d think you’d been a woman all your life.” She gives me a mockingly inquisitive look. “You haven’t been hiding something from me all this time, have you?”

I laugh. “Believe me, if I was, I would’ve asked you out a long time ago.”

There’s some more assorted small talk as you finish the meal. With the food gone, Sarah asks, “So I have to ask you something important.”

“Shoot.”

Sarah seems to consider her words carefully, then asks, “You’ve just undergone a major transformation. The appearance you’ve had your entire life has been fundamentally and completely changed. Yet this whole time, you’ve been rather okay with it. I mean, there hasn’t been any major freak out, you haven’t broken down crying, and you actually seem pretty happy. Do you mind if I ask how you’re feeling about this whole experience?”

I regard her with warmth and sincerity. “You know, I asked myself that very question last night as I was going to bed, and I think I have the answer.”

“Do tell.”

I smile. “You.”

She sits up a little taller, looking pleasantly surprised. “Really?”

I resolve to let it all out. “You’re right. Under ordinary circumstances, I’d be freaking the hell out. Every little sensation is completely different for me. This body is sensitive in ways I’ve never experienced. It requires exhaustive maintenance, and I won’t even tell you what using the toilet has been like.”

Sarah laughs again. “It must be quite the shock.”

I nod in agreement. “But this whole time, I’ve had someone who helped with the right fashion sense. Who’s given me instructions for cleaning and caring. Who’s made me look as beautiful as I can, and did so with patience and grace. You turned this from a potentially scarring nightmare into something I’ll treasure forever. Thank you, Sarah.”

Sarah smiles, and touches her lip with her index finger. Her eyes seem to scan me up and down. Finally, she stands up, blows out the candles, and says, “Follow me.”

I follow her into the open space of the living room. She puts her cell phone into a Bluetooth speaker dock. After entering some commands, Careless Whisper starts playing. She holds out her hands, and says, “Dance with me.”

My first thought is to protest. To tell her that I’m not used to moving around in heels. That I’m too nervous. But the room suddenly feels very warm, and Sarah looks so good right now. I reach out, our left hands clasp, her right hand goes around my waist, and mine goes around her back. The next thing I know, we’re slow dancing and looking into each other’s eyes. Fortunately for my sense of balance, she keeps the foot movement to a minimum. I still can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been fawning over her for almost 2 years now, and now finally it’s happening. We’re having a proper first date.

Granted the circumstances aren’t how I ever imagined, but I’ll gladly take what I can get.

As the song wraps up, I decide it’s time to make my move. I lean in, and to my surprise/utter relief, she moves in too. Our lips meet, softly at first, carefully probing each other. My head is spinning. Her left hand slides out of our grip, and smoothly snakes up my back. I feel like melting into her arms. My left hand moves around her shoulder while my right hand snakes down past her waist, firmly grabbing her rear. This seems to spur her on, as our tongues intermingle in our mouths.

She pulls back after a while, with a look of lust on her face. She grabs my hand and pulls me to the bedroom. We kick off our shoes as she unzips my dress, and helps to slide it down my body. It lands in a pile on the floor, and is soon joined by Sarah’s dress. Our bras and panties soon join the pile of clothing, and she pushes me down onto the bed. She straddles me and pins my wrists down, whispering “You are so beautiful,” into my ear. I only manage a soft moan in response.

My chest starts feeling like my insides are doing somersaults, as Sarah’s body presses into mine, her breasts pushing onto mine. I feel heavy and hot, my senses go crazy, and I feel my thighs growing damp. With my hands above my head, Sarah gently kisses my neck, then my ear, then my lips again. I gasp with pleasure, and she’s panting heavily. Her hands start slide down to my sides, and my hands work their way to her ass, squeezing and kneading.

“You feel so amazing,” Sarah says breathlessly. I want to say something, but the speech center has detached itself from my mind. All I manage is another moan. Her head drops down and starts to link my chest, slowly inching its way upwards. The electric fire I experienced last night dances across my body, my nipples stiffening in the process. My muscles lock in place, and my head swims in endorphins. I feel something warm, as her lips lock onto my nipple. The moan I let out this time is loud, as heat radiates between my legs.

Her head moves towards my nether regions, and my thoughts erupt into an explosion of ecstatic pulses. I could melt into this bed right now, and I just know Sarah could too. The rest of the evening is a jumble, as my vision blurs and my muscles explode with energy. I don’t know when I fell asleep, but it was the most wonderful I’ve ever felt.