New Werewoman Handbook Pt. 10

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Emily fed me a large breakfast and drove me home a little later that morning. On the ride back, as I drifted into and out of dreamland, Emily explained why I would feel tired for the next day or two. It's something all werewomen experienced. The strain of transforming so rapidly and dramatically finally catches up with a person on the morning after their last forced shift. Today was my hangover from a weekend of femininity. It would be the first of many to come.

I was so spent, she had to help me down the hall to my door. I was like a rag-doll, but luckily she was plenty strong for both of us. I remembered Heather's comments about having the strength of a male body builder. If she wanted, Emily could probably throw me down my hallway. When we got to my door, Emily assisted me with the key and then kissed me on the fore-head before saying goodbye. She left her number in my pocket, I'd written down mine for her as well. Once inside my castle, I dragged ass to the couch and plopped down, exhausted despite my racing mind.

As a day-walker living full time as a woman, Emily didn't experience these exhausting after effects because her body was no longer forced to endure the metamorphosis. Lucky her, I thought as I drifted off to sleep.

It was the middle of the afternoon when I woke up again, I still felt tired but incredibly hungry too. I raided my fridge and pantry, pigging out on junk food until I was topped off. After I was done feasting, I flipped on the afternoons football game but only half paid attention. Somehow, memorizing every detail of the game to regurgitate in conversation later in the week seemed less important to me than ever. Soon I was asleep again, and before I knew it my Monday morning alarm was ringing.

Work was a drag, I still felt drained from the weekend. My mind kept returning to that strange dream about Heather and I. Something didn't seem right about it. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being manipulated but I hated to think of Heather in such suspicious terms. I was used to feeling conflicted by now, so I just forged on ahead with my work.

I was half asleep at the desk in my office when a new instant message alert chimed in through my PC speakers. Snapping to attention, it appeared Heather was contacting me.
___________________________________________________________________________________

From-sisterHeather
: How is my favorite thrall feeling today?

To- sisterHeather
: Drained. Spent. Where did you go Saturday night?

From-sisterHeather
: On Saturday I had other business to attend to. Besides Emily and you didn't seem to notice.

To- sisterHeather
: You could have said goodbye :(

From-sisterHeather
: I'll make it up to you next month.

To-sisterHeather
: I had a dream about you and I...the night we met.

From-sisterHeather
: O really? Was it good?

To-sisterHeather
: Heather, what did you do to me that night? I looked like I was hypnotized.

From-sister Heather: In a way yes. Let's just say you were unable to lie.

To-sisterHeather: It wasn't me you were talking to, it was Erin. You channeled her somehow and she took over. Whoever asked you to do this, it wasn't me speaking!

From-sisterHeather
: You're still thinking about Erin as a separate person...

To-sisterHeather: She is!

From-sisterHeather
: ...and that is why you fail.

sisterHeather has disconnected
User logged out

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I fail? Who did she think she was, master tap-dancing Yoda?! I was fuming mad.

As the days ticked past on my calendar, I found myself somewhat withdrawn socially. I'd taken a big step back from everybody I was close to, everyone except Emily. As the days turned into weeks, I spent many an hour sitting on her Italian leather sofa confiding in her like she was a close relative. I told her everything I was feeling, including the details of my dream about Heather.

Emily didn't know what to make about the dream, and she seemed to change the topic whenever it came up. The one thing she said that stuck with me was that our dreams can sometimes reveal subconscious desires otherwise hidden from our waking self. It sounded like Sigmund Freud psychobabble, but Emily had no shortage of deep and thoughtful insights to offer.

Never in my life had I engaged in such emotionally enriching banter. It was a departure from my old self that I noticed happening in real time, but didn't struggle against. It was liberating to talk about my feelings with a kindred spirit.

But as the weeks rolled by, there were other subtle differences in my demeanor. Once or twice, I found my bodies posture changing from regular masculine to very feminine. I kept correcting myself when I noticed it happening and wondered how many times I had done it without taking notice. The swing of an elbow while walking, the hand on a hip while speaking, I even noticed myself crossing my legs in the typically female way on a few occasions. This is one change that I am not comfortable with.

Of course I told Emily, and she regarded it as perfectly natural. To her it was my girl side stepping in to assist my male self, integrating into my personality. According to her, all werewomen go through the process of balancing. My inner-female bleeding over into my male life would make shifting genders less jarring. According to Emily and the handbook, the transformation event itself would become less dramatic as this process advanced. Soon it would feel as natural as breathing. I still had my lingering doubts, but it was encouraging to hear that I was 'normal,' at least by werewoman standards.

In addition, during my male weeks there were several nights that I simply flaked out on plans to hang with my work friends. Instead of drinking and carousing, I sat at home alone and read the manual. I was just about finished with it now. In a way I missed the good times I could have been having with the guys, but I seemed to relate to them less and less since my run in with Heather. All they seemed to do was talk about sports and argue politics. It always devolved into a booze fueled ball-busting session. A pissing contest. Whose team had better pitching? Which candidate was more likable? None of it mattered because none of us agreed on anything. We were a younger version of the 4 old putz's that sat around the barbershop and argued in Coming to America.

I flashed back in my mind to a scene from that movie. “Joe Louis always lied about his age. He was 117 years old when he fought Rocky Marciano.” It sounded like something one of us might say. My group was a reduced in stature to a caricature of 1980's comic relief. But it was a fact.

The only other skill we possessed was collectively evaluating hot women in our vicinity. Ladies who they could not summon the courage to actually speak with. I never had a problem talking to women, it just came naturally. To me, watching my peers flounder their way through failed pick up attempts was the real entertainment. But now, I found their lack of confidence disturbing instead of merely amusing. Didn't they know that was a serious turn-off?

I was sort of neutral to developments concerning my friends. I seemed to be losing and gaining so much at once, they were just disappearing in the shuffle. There was no dramatic break, no 'F-you' moment between us, just a widening chasm with me on one side and them on the other.

But all of this was nothing compared to the most serious and alarming change. It happened about seven or eight days before I was scheduled to change into Erin again. I found myself at the mall, and before I could think my legs were moving in the direction of the Victoria's Secret store. No Game-Stop, no music store, I did not pass 'Go' or collect $200. I went straight into Victoria's Secret as though I belonged in there. I always liked to look at their catalog and window displays, but today I was drawn in.

A friendly young saleswoman in her late teens or early twenties approached me. “Hi My name is Kelly, can I help you?” she was chipper and cheerful.

Still unsure about my purpose in the store, struggled to find an answer. As my mind went blank in the face of her query, I found myself saying, “I'll need two body by Victoria braziers and a push up bra, all size 34-D. I'll also need a pair of No-line panties and two pairs of Intimisimi style panties, all in size four.” I guess a part of me knew exactly what it wanted, and even knew which sizes and style to ask for.

“You got it sir! Your girlfriend is a lucky woman to have you spoil her like this. Most men don't know the first thing about lingerie.” Kelly led me around the store handing me the garments I'd requested as we went. As the bra's and panties piled up in my hands, I fought the burning urge to hold them up against my body to check the style and fit. 'Later! Not here.' I found myself compromising with...myself. It was difficult to resist but somehow I managed.

As we approached the register, I handed my treasures back to the friendly sales associate so she could ring them up. Kelly was chipper as ever as she wrapped up my purchase 'gift style.' I didn't bother stopping her. Girlfriend, right. That's the ticket. Little did she know I'd be wearing this stuff in a few short nights, and it would fit like a glove.

The total was a bit higher than I'd expected. I knew women's underwear was expensive but wow. I only bought three days worth, and it set me back well over $100. Suddenly I missed buying packs of tighty whitey's and boxer briefs for $10. Being a woman sometimes was going to get expensive.

I hit a couple of other stores, and the same phenomenon repeated itself. I would stumble into the women's department, with no idea about what I was doing there. A female sales associate would approach me and ask what I needed and in which sizes. They were all very helpful, and upon hearing the sizes I requested all remarked about my 'lucky girlfriend.' Most of them commented on my purchases too, the lady at Anne Taylor even came onto me. She said something like, “I hope your lady knows how lucky she is to have a handsome man with good taste buying her pretty things. I know if I was her, I'd be very grateful.” She was holding me tightly by the arm as she spoke, making full on eye contact for each syllable. It looked like the 'irresistible to women' part of my condition was working now.

My arms filled up with bags as I wandered back to the entrance of the mall, winding my way past the Victoria's Secret store again. Cheerful Kelly was standing near the entrance with a co-worker, both were looking out towards the food-court as I passed them. Kelly smiled and waved to me as I passed, I returned the gesture even though I had to shuffle bags between my hands to pull it off. 'What a nice young lady' I thought to myself as I left the mall.

___________________________________________________________________________________

A young lass named Kelly Huchins watched the strange male customer from earlier pass by the store front once more. He'd been friendly in the store and all, but there was something about him she couldn't quite place. 'Better wave and smile, he's good business after-all' she rationalized.

He was waving back when the realization hit her. He was the man from the movie theater a couple weeks ago. She and her boyfriend had seen him there. But there was something else, something memorable about him that night. Kelly focused her mind on remembering what it was.

While he definitely walked in to the theater behind them, he appeared to be alone. Later on in the movie, she looked back again and saw his girlfriend getting up to leave, no sign of him what-so-ever. What's more, when his girlfriend left, she was wearing the same lame clothes that the strange man had worn into the show. Her boyfriend Kevin had said something about him too. What the devil was it?

Unbenounced to me, Kelly's mind was on the brink of making a connection that could blow the lid off of my werewoman secret. The lights were coming on within her mind, but then suddenly a tap on the shoulders stopped her in her tracks. It was her ironically named co-worker, Victoria.

“You want a pretzel or something?” Victoria asked. “I'm going on break for a few minutes.”

Kelly nodded no. Whatever she was just thinking about was important, but now the thought was gone. Victoria headed off into the food court and Kelly re-entered her store to assist a customer.

___________________________________________________________________________________

There have been so many little changes over the weeks, it's hard to talk about all of them. Emily was right about a lot of things, but especially correct about the time in between moons flying by. My next transformation was going to be soon, and I still hadn't heard from Heather. I was tempted to ask Emily if she knew where I could find Heather's male alter ego, but I didn't want to go stalker on her. I knew nothing about her male life, and there might be a good reason for that. So I focused on my work instead. Worst comes to worst, I'd see her at the pack meeting later in the week.

It was a Monday morning, I'd be transforming for the first time that month on Saturday evening. I had an interview scheduled with a hopeful employee to get through first. A youthful lad named Mr. Kevin Jones came to my office in a suit and tie, looking smart as he entered.

But as he looked at me seated behind my desk, an expression of faint recognition crossed his face. Come to think of it, he looked familiar to me as well. But I could not place his name or face. After the brief awkward moment at the start of the interview, it turned out this kid had all of the skills we were looking for. And a smooth personality to match. Plus being young, unmarried and childless with no experience, I could get him for a small salary. I decided to give him the job then and there, though I didn't say so directly because I had to clear it with Human Resources.

As he was leaving my office after the interview, Kevin turned to me and said, “I got it! You were at the movie theater a couple weekends ago, that's how I remember you! God that's been bugging me this whole time.” He was smiling, clearly proud of his detective-like memory. His right hand was out for me to shake.

I was mortified for a second until I pulled it together. “Yeah I was there the other weekend. We'll be in touch about the position.” I smiled rather weakly. He left my office without another word. How much of his movie-going experience did this kid remember?
___________________________________________________________________________________

A young lad named Kevin Jones strolled through a parking lot after nailing a job interview. Everything had gone astonishingly well, and he even managed to impress his prospective employer with a feat of memory. All he was thinking about was telling his girlfriend, Kelly as soon as he got home. Whistling a happy tune as he strode, Kevin couldn't help but think to himself, 'Damn I'm smooth.'

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Comments

Heather

Heather is a five letter word that begins with "B", no doubt about it. Looks more and more to me like Aaron was set-up, perhaps by a co-worker or former GF? (Maybe Heather is a co-worker?) We only have Heather's word for Aaron having a pink aura before, now that it's purple there's no way to know. There's something rotten in the State of Denmark (quite aside from "Hopenhagen").

m

Damaged people are dangerous
They know they can survive

Thrall

How is my favorite thrall feeling today?
Interesting, I double-checked to make sure, 'thrall' is an old Viking term for a servant slave. The Free Dictionary has the following definations:

1.a. One, such as a slave or serf, who is held in bondage.

b. One who is intellectually or morally enslaved.

2. Servitude; bondage: "a people in thrall to the miracles of commerce" (Lewis H. Lapham).
tr.v. thralled, thrall·ing, thralls Archaic
To enslave.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

And:

1. Also called thraldom (US), the state or condition of being in the power of another person

2. a person who is in such a state

3. a person totally subject to some need, desire, appetite, etc.
vb
(tr) to enslave or dominate
[Old English slave, from Old Norse]

Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged 6th Edition 2003. © William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003

So what does that say about Erin's position? Not much that's good, I suspect.

Damaged people are dangerous
They know they can survive

I thought it was a well-known word...

I mean, Thrall Frostwolf - Warchief of the Horde.

I have met mentions that subservient Vampires that were turned are called thralls. This is especially interesting due to Heather's fangs, don't you think so? Besides, she claimed that werewoman having intercourse with a male may make one a werewoman, did she not? However, with the possibility of becoming weremen, with the dream/nightmare of the turning, with the fangs - that particular tale seems less and less plausible, understatement much?

Faraway

On rights of free advertisement:
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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!

Not in the same way

I first heard the word in connection with an episode of Star Trek, "The Gamesters of Triskelion" (okay, I'm dating myself!). In it, the term 'thrall' quite clearly meant a slave. Since then I've encountered it as the root word in 'enthralled'. But I haven't a clue about this Warchief of the Horde. I don't normally read so-called horror fiction or watch the movies, so I'm not up on usages in popular fiction.

Anyway, the use of the term is suggestive, given it's original meaning.

Damaged people are dangerous
They know they can survive

Thrall

I assume you are referring to Thrall from WoW. He is named Thrall because he was at one point a slave. One of the 'dungeons' in the Caverns of Time was to go back in time and aid in his escape.

New Werewoman Handbook Pt. 10

What would happen if the public knew about the Werewoman?

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

This is worrysome... I mean

This is worrysome...

I mean having your female side turn on you... Not so cool...

Aaron is loosing all his friends, why? Is it this thrall thing from Heather-bitch?

Interesting story...

Thank you for writing,

Beyogi