New Werewoman Handbook Pt. 9

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I didn't know how to answer her question. I found myself saying, “But, how? I looked totally different this afternoon.”

“When I saw you standing there, checking me out, I noticed your aura. I assumed you could read mine too, at first.” Emily said. “But then, after you said what you did and walked away, I knew better. You heard 'her' voice while you were looking at me, didn't you?” she leaned in close after asking.

“Yes, she was...I mean, I was critiquing your appearance. Your fashion choices, your hairstyle...” I admitted. “I heard it for the first time after looking at you, but it kept creeping into my brain as I walked past the department store window displays. It was even louder later on as I checked out other women.” I wondered what the significance of this was.

“That voice is your inner girl, you heard it tonight because your transformation was close at hand.” Emily said. “It's sort of an early warning of an impending change. And as the change draws nearer, the voice grows louder and more dominant. Once you begin to hear the voice, you've only got a couple of hours until it begins.” Emily was in professor mode. “It's just your inner-girl taking over, forcing 'her' way out. 'She' may even maker her presence felt in other ways as the change grows near, like making strange decisions or reading aura's without even meaning to.”

The more I thought about it, the more I related to what she was describing. I'd first heard the whisper of my female side in the record store, just a coupe of hours before I transformed in the theater. Even though I didn't see Emily's aura at the time, later on in the food court I was seeing them on everybody. And the voice did seem to grow louder all the while in between. When I purchased the ticket to see that crummy romantic comedy, it was as though my male side was on vacation.

“That's how we mentally prepare for a shift, kind of like our minds changing before our bodies.” Emily was making a lot of sense. “If you're like the rest of the pack, you'll only hear 'her' speaking around the full moons. It might happen a couple of other times, but in fairly predictable pattern.”

“Like the nights before and after the full moon nights?” I asked. I seemed to remember reading something about that in the book.

“Yes, some of the girls you met tonight gender-shift a total of five to seven nights each month. They don't have a choice in the matter, it just happens. Others only change for those magical 3 nights in the middle when the moon is at its fullest, like you did this month.” Emily confirmed. “That's how it starts with all of us who feel the pull of the moon, some just feel it more strongly than others.”

“And all that depends on how strong your female side grows?” I asked.

“Yes. And like Heather and I said earlier it's a combination of desire to be female and genetic potential.” Emily seemed to have a lot of answers. “After living as a werewoman for about a year, your sensitivity to the lunar cycle should be pretty well known to you. You'll know by then if you're a three nighter, or a full weeker, or whatever in between. Unless you're like me.”

“How did you become like you are?” I'll have to admit, I was dying to know.

“I was a regular guy with a great job, a young family and all of that. But I hid the fact that I was a cross-dresser from everyone.” Emily confessed. “I found myself getting deeper and deeper into the lifestyle, and I couldn't get enough. I sneaked around and planned some fake 'business trips' to dress up alone in a hotel, but that was it for a long time. One night, during one of my fake business trips, I felt I just had to go out.

I went to a TG friendly bar, and that's where it happened. I crossed paths with a young thrall like yourself. A newly turned werewoman with no idea what she was doing. All it took was one lapse in judgment, one infidelity and I ended up a werewoman.” Emily looked pouty.

“I felt as though I was hypnotized. One minute I'm having a ball at a crossdressers bar. Then I meet a genuine girl too beautiful to believe. Before I knew it, we were making love. I remember her riding me on the bed of a cheap motel room. It all felt so magical until these massive fangs slid out in front of her canine teeth, and she leaned down and bit me.” Emily gestured toward her shoulder.

“You can guess what happened to me a month later.” Emily said as she cleared her throat.

I was fascinated to hear about her past, but I had to know more specifics. “So when did you know you were different from other werewomen?” I asked

“That's a good question.” Emily thought for a moment before speaking. “About 6 months after I was bitten, I learned how to force myself to change at night without needing the full moon. I did it a few times for fun, and after a couple of months I started doing it more often.”

Emily looked slightly embarrassed but she continued. “Then it started happening on it's own. I'd be leaving the office when the whispering started, by the time I got to my front door I was fighting back the shift with all I had. Once I was inside and the door was locked, it just sort of took over. Half the time I couldn't even get my suit off fast enough. Girl time started taking up all of my nights.”

For a second I thought she was finished speaking, then she began again. “It was kind of scary how fast it happened. Within two and a half years of becoming a werewoman, I could force a shift and hold it any time, day or night.” she revealed. “Although a shift could force itself on me at any time too.”

I broke eye contact with her for a moment and reflected on all the experiences I had that evening. As fascinated as I was with Emily, I felt like I was missing an opportunity to bond with Heather. The dread I experienced earlier today seemed to evaporate as soon as I met up with her. As the evening wore on, I found myself having a lot of fun because of her. Heather had helped me with my make-up, made my introduction as comfortable as possible, defended me when I needed a champion. She wasn't even angry that I was late for our meeting tonight. As my thought turned to all that she'd done for me, I found myself scanning the room looking for her.

“I think your weremommy went home, kid-o.” Emily said. “But don't worry, I'll get you where you need to go.”

I was upset by Heathers departure, but she'd left me in good hands. Still I couldn't help but feel that there was something wrong between Heather and I. How could she leave me here without saying goodbye? I was on the third and final night of my first set of changing moons, I was sure I wouldn't see her for a while. She was responsible for turning me, and she just splits! What nerve. The more I thought about it, the angrier it made me. Despite myself, I felt like a lover scorned.

“OK lets leave, it's getting late.” my voice sounded slightly annoyed.

We strolled out to her car, and as I entered the passenger seat, she asked, “My place or yours?”

“Where do you live?” I replied with a question.

“Not far.” she answered.

“Your place it is.” I said. It was just past two in the morning as we began our drive. It was a quiet ten minutes, but as we pulled into a condo community in the business district Emily spoke.

“Home sweet home.” she stated proudly

“Swanky!” I jested. But in reality this place was really nice. Ultra modern design signaled it's new construction, in fact Emily mentioned that the complex was only 2 years old as we rode the elevator to her floor. We entered her condo, and I was astonished to see the stylish furniture and classy décor. This place was not only a primo location, but well appointed too.

“Back when I was living in a 'man's world' I managed to make a pile of money in the market.” Emily volunteered as if to she anticipated my question. “After I was turned, I quit my job at the brokerage house and went out on my own. I knew nobody at my office would understand or want to deal with what I was becoming. Still once you're trained to pick a winner in the market, it becomes second nature so I still do alright.” Emily was all smiles.

“It shows!” I said, marveling at the opulence around me. “Is this Italian leather on your sofa?” I asked enthusiastically.

“Yes, nice eye for detail.” said Emily

The living room also featured a fire place, above it was a framed picture of a family. “Yours?” I asked cautiously pointing.

“Yes and no. It's complicated.” Emily looked guarded. “At first, my wife was supportive when I started changing from 'Emile' (she pointed to the man in the photo) into 'Emily' (she pointed to herself). We became close girlfriends. She tried to understand it for a while, but when it really intensified and I started being Emily more and more, my baby decided she couldn't handle it. She left and took my two daughters. It was a bad time for me, but in the end surviving it allowed me to emerge as the happy woman you see today.” She smiled contentedly.

“Do you miss them?” I asked.

“Every day.” She replied. “We parted on good terms, and I support my children and ex-wife financially. I see her once in a while, but never the kids.” she sounded sad.

“Why is that?” 'Am I prying?' I thought for a split second. 'I hope not.'

“Not long after we separated, it became clear that 'Emile' was never going to resurface. So I faked his death and built an identity for Emily. I'm doing much better now but at the time I had a family to support and no job. So I killed off 'Emile' and my wife became 'his' widow. As such, she was entitled to a large sum of insurance money.” I was struck by her honesty. “Meeting my ex for lunch once or twice a month and hearing her talk about my little angels is as close to being a parent as I'll ever get again. Still maybe it's better that way.” Emily trailed off...

As I listened to her speak, I could feel Emily's pain in all the personal details she revealed to me. I'd never felt so empathetic towards another human being. Somehow I felt her suffering was mine. Perhaps it was another side effect of my present femininity, but one I was rather enjoying. There seemed to be no shortage of perks to the female condition, and tonight quite a few had revealed themselves. The compassion I felt for Emily's loss had somehow strengthened our bond and made us closer. But what to say?

“I understand why you did what you did, but I think your daughters deserve the truth. Maybe someday when the time is right....” I paused. Perhaps I'd overstepped my bounds, but I couldn't stop the honesty. “You obviously love them very much, and if you and your ex can be girlfriends after all that you went through, maybe there is a chance.” Damn my big mouth, Emily looked to be on the brink of tears.

“Thank you for listening. I didn't expect you to say that but I'm kind of glad that you did.” Emily wiped a lone tear from her eyes. “I've been thinking about them a lot recently. We've been apart for years now.”

“Better late than never.” I don't know why I default to chicle's at times.

“So tell me about yourself, Erin.” she asked smiling again now that the emotional moment had passed.

I told her about myself, where I grew up and went to school. My job and my hobbies, all the things that made me the person I am. It was going on three in the morning, but I felt energetic as I revealed personal details about my life to my new companion. It felt a strong connection to her, and even though I couldn't explain why, it was as though we'd know each other for years.

We talked late into the night about a range of subjects until at last we ended up in the bedroom.

Face to face on the King sized bed in her master bedroom, for the first time since the dance floor we were close enough so that I could feel her warm breath on my skin. We kissed tenderly, hugging one another close. I felt a growing warmth emanating from my midsection and within moments the symptoms of feminine arousal began to manifest. My nipples stiffened, visible through my dress and built in bra, I felt weak in the knees. I relished the sensation of my labia swelling as my inner walls began to lubricate themselves. I could feel Emily's hand rubbing on my inner thigh in small circles, getting closer and closer to my magic box.

Suddenly I could feel a tugging sensation on the bottom of my dress. In an instant the material encased my face, Emily was stripping it off of me. I wasn't wearing a bra or panties, and I found myself naked before the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I wanted her clothes off too.

As if she were a mind reader, she tossed off her shirt and fumbled with the strap in the back of her bra. My earlier claim that her knockers would sag to the floor without a bra to support them proved patently false. They defied gravity without having the appearance of being silicone-enhanced. They were similar in a lot of respects to my own pair, just ever so slightly larger. Magnificent.

We resumed our face to face position on the bed, fondling each others mammeries as we kissed passionately I could feel the intense hardness of my large feminine nipples contrast with Emily's soft cupid bow lips as she took the tiny pink length in her mouth. Gently sucking upon my chest produced a sensation throughout my body that felt like an electric shock. It was as though a new connection had been established between my nipples and the smooth flat womanly crease between my legs.

Emily ground her womanhood against my body, her sense of urgency apparent. I could feel the heat emanating from deep within her as she pressed her delicate flesh into my leg.. I kissed her marvelous breasts, and planted a trail of kiss-lets down her body until I reached her midsection. Teasing her for a while, I could feel her squirm beneath me. At last I dove into her hairless lotus patch head first. Swirling my tongue in a circle, I could hear my lover moan in ecstasy between breathy encouragement.

“Oh my God that feels good...Yes right there...You're so f*%#ing GOOD at this!” Emily was boosting my ego big time. Several intense minutes passed. More pillow talk, though increasingly incoherent, poured out of my mate. “You don't... even know.....I...Ahhh...Don't stop, don't you ever stop!” Emily squirmed wildly beneath my grasp, orgasm washing over her like a tsunami wave.

I guess I hadn't lost my touch!

Soon it was her turn to reciprocate. She was no slouch either. As her tongue flickered across the surface of my tender folds of female skin, I panted and bucked my hips wildly. Pangs of passion fired off in various parts all over my body. Emily sped up her pace, and I could feel a powerful force building withing the walls of my new girly organ. The pleasure increased to the point of being unbearable, and seemed to explode all over my body at once.

I was moaning and convulsing as muscles from my stomach to my finger-tips contracted in pleasure. And unlike the pumping, diminishing feeling of the brief male orgasms I'd come to know, I felt a gentle clenching and un-clenching in my loins and throughout my whole being. The pleasurable sensation lasted much longer and felt truly amazing in comparison. Waves of pleasure coursed all over my shaking body.

But Emily didn't let up. “Ready for another? Oh yeah, you are.” she said briefly. Then she buried her head in my lap once more and the awesome feeling continued unabated. I was on the brink of cumming for the second time in quick succession when I passed out. My body couldn't handle the pleasure Emily was inflicting upon it. But as I drifted off to sleep I couldn't help be pleased with the latest and greatest perk of my new condition. Better, and more frequent orgasms.

As I slept I dreamed of my male self. It was a strange dream, one in which I watched myself from outside my own body. It was as though someone was showing me a film of my life.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I watched myself walking into one of my favorite bars to meet up with some friends from work. I observed in the third person as I took my seat amongst them. We began to drain some beers and chat about the office and sports. It didn't escape my attention that I looked sort of bored and deflated. That's when I noticed my eyes kept wandering off of the conversation and onto to a woman at a table near the back. It was Heather.

It instantly dawned on my dreaming self that this was a replay of the night I'd met her, a night I remembered none too well. I saw myself stand up from my table as though hypnotized and move in the direction of Heathers table. Seated across from her was a woman I now recognized as Vanessa, the grouchy pack sister I met earlier. Vanessa stood and offered me her seat as I approached, saying, “Hold on tight now, Skippy.”

What a jerk.

I continued dreaming, and watched myself take Vanessa's seat across from Heather. I was clearly entranced by her. “How's it going?” I said in my pleasing baritone. “Do you come here often?”

“I don't want to talk to you,” said Heather in a direct uncompromising tone. “Let me speak to the girl within.” Her eyes locked with mine.

“This is she.”I could hear myself say in a voice a pitch or two higher than normal. I looked possessed.

“Tell me sister, how is your boy treating you?” Heather asked

“Not well.” I sounded sad as I answered. “He doesn't acknowledge my existence.” I continued in my strange hypo-voice. “He refuses to accept that I'm a part of him, and every time I try to emerge he immerses himself in macho activities or work.” Who was saying this? I don't ever remember having this conversation but here it was playing out in front of me.

“It's alright sister, I can help you.” Heather reached across the table and stroked my bare fore-arm. I was wearing short sleeves that night. “Do you know what I am?” she asked.

I watched the phantom of past-me nod yes before speaking. “You're a werewoman.”

“Do you know what I can do for you?” Heather and I were holding hands as she asked.

“You can set me free. You can make me whole.” Whatever force was speaking for me continued. “You can change me.”

“Is this what you want?” Heather sounded serious.

“Yes, more than I've ever wanted anything before.” It was like I was under her spell.

I was horrified as I watched myself being victimized. I started screaming at myself, “Don't do it! You don't know what you're getting into!” but it was no use. I felt like Ebeneezer Scrooge during his ghostly visitations in Charles Dickie's, A Christmas Carol . I was standing right there in the moment but I couldn't affect the outcome. I was a spirit in this dream, one who could not be heard, seen or felt.

Heather led me by the hand out the door and past my stunned co-workers. Their fellow worker bee was leaving with the hottest girl in the bar. I walked out behind 'myself,' on the way catching a glimpse of Vanessa kicking game to the female bartender on duty. As much as I wanted to see how that went, I was not here to be a ghostly voyeur. I had to see how this ended.

I followed myself home, planting my spectral rump in the back seat of Heathers car as she drove. When we reached my house, I watched my phantom self and Heather go into the bedroom together. I entered behind them.

After some kissing and feeling each other up, Heather began to strip. I followed suit. Soon we were naked before one another, rolling on the bed in a tight embrace. The moment of penetration approached, and Heather began to speak.

“What am I?” she demanded in a dominatrix tone.

“A werewoman” I answered obediently as Heather climbed on top. She was now straddling my washboard stomach.

“What do you want to be?” Heather pinned my arms down to the bed and hovered her opening just out of my erect members reach.

“I want to be like you.” I said half-heartedly.

Say it like you mean it!” Heather demanded, getting in my face as she shouted.

I want to be a werewoman, I want to change and be free like you.” I said with surprising conviction.

This seemed to satisfy Heather, and she smiled wickedly. I watched from behind as she bent her knees, easing my shaft inside her. As her pink lips slowly slithered over my manhood, I saw myself gasp. Heather continued to smile a knowing smile as she rose and fell, gently riding me to a girly doom.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I sat in the corner of my room, watching my former self consummate a curse it's giver had made me beg for. It seemed as though the entire time, I was under her spell, intoxicated by her charm, unable to resist. It was like watching a predator with it's prey. I was playing the role of the defenseless herbivore.

On top of it all, I suffered the rare indignity of actually seeing my own 'O-face.' As Heather cavorted on top of me, my eyes rolled into the back of my head, and I twitched ever so slightly. My face was contorted as though I'd had a stroke and simultaneously suffered a grand mall seizure. So that's what all the women in my love life saw staring back at them in the most intimate of moments. Creepy.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tears were streaming down my face as I awoke with a startling wail. Emily was laying next to me and sprang up when I shouted.

“What is it dear?” Emily begged.

“A dream, about Heather and I last month. Oh God Emily... I feel sick!” A wave of dizziness overcame me and I began to drip sweat.

“It's alright Erin, the sun is rising and your beginning to revert back to your boy self.” Emily sounded calm.

“What, no...I...” Quickly standing up, I felt a full on wave of panic. “Don't look at me!” I shouted as my body began to tingle all over. As much as I didn't want to change the previous evening in the movie theater, that's only a fraction of how much I didn't want to change back now. Emily looked concerned.

“It's OK, just try and relax. We usually sleep through this part. It's only natural that your girl side is reluctant to relinquish control, chances are she won't reemerge until next month.” Emily guided my trembling body to a laying position as the tingling I felt reached crescendo.

As I convulsed on the bed, Emily pulled me up into her lap. My breasts bounced as I shook, but less and less as they began to shrink and whither away. Soon they were completely flat and my nipples seemed to deflate as immediately afterwards. I was grunting in a deepening voice as my hips crunched together to form a slim male profile. I could feel my plump feminine rear melting away and hardening as my rib cage expanded. My shoulders ballooned outwards, forcing Emily to widen her grasp to accommodate them. My clitoris stiffened and seemed to grow as my labia fused together. I could feel my ovaries inside my abdomen sliding their way towards the pouch of loose skin formed by the fusing of my outer lips. Soon the familiar male configuration was back for another term as 'mayor of groin-town.' My frame grew to its normal size and any evidence of my femininity vanished without a trace.

I was crying, my head buried in Emily's lap. It wasn't the least bit painful, I just didn't want to go back yet. Even though she'd seen me as a boy in the music store, I felt ashamed of my maleness in front of Emily right now.

In an attempt to comfort me, she said, “Hush now it's alright. Erin will be back soon. Your special time of the month will be back before you know it.” She was running her fingers through my short boy hair which was both soothing and embarrassing at once.

'Next month' I thought to myself. 'What an awfully long time to wait.'

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Comments

So many questions!

How did Erin-not-yet-unleashed know what Heather was?
How did Heather mesmerize Erin?
Why did Aaron have such a completely formed girl side?
What will happen next?

Of course, the answer to the last question is - you just wait and see!
However, the other questions are more demanding than that.

Still, it is obvious that both Aaron and Erin share this body, and now, now both of them have an outlet for being themselves. However, I suspect that the daywalker syndrome is when the boy is suppressed by the girl, and, as such, is incomplete. It is still a struggle for power, as with the weremen. I wonder if Journey to The Depths of Mind will take place, to answer some of these questions and allow for an even more potent being, perhaps rivaling or surpassing the very first ancestor.

Faraway

On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Part parody,

Part Parody and yet this also has a lot of heart. It is making fun of the genre about magically turning into a woman, complete with the manual, but it is also about the battle many of us have within ourselves. That urge to just let that inner girl out and the horrible emptiness when it's time to stuff her and her stuff back into the closet. And, let's not forget the denial that we're actually looking forward to the next time even as we say we don't. I've enjoyed this from the start but the further we get into this tale the more I'm finding. Very very nice indeed Werewomaniac!!!!!

Hugs!

Grover

Thanks for the comments!

I promise to answer many of the questions in the chapters to come, but new ones will keep popping up. The comments so far have been awesome to read, it's good to know you are looking forward to more. It's been a lot of fun writing this and it's great to post it in a place where it's appreciated.

kisses and hugs,
Werewomaniac

New Werewoman Handbook Pt. 9

This story is getting very interesting.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine