New Werewoman Handbook Pt. 12

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And I was incredibly turned on to boot.

The New Werewoman Handbook
Part 12

by Werewomaniac

Copyright © 2009 Werewomaniac

 
Post transformation interlude...

I giggled, laughing out loud in uncontrollable bursts. Erin was just so happy to be complete once more. As thrilling as it was, lust like I'd never known overcame my senses. I couldn't resist touching myself. My fingers knew exactly where to go and what to do as I focused my mind on the encounter with Emily last month. Somehow, the passion I felt at this moment was different. With Emily, my arousal built slowly and rapture overtook me little by little. Emily looked so beautiful to me, I wanted that moment to last forever. But back in the present, I knew that getting off was the only imperative. So I worked fast, and in a few intense minutes my nether lips clenched tightly around my probing finger. My womanhood throbbed, and my whole being began to tremble.

All the amazing feelings that accompanied orgasm seemed to linger as I lay motionless in the tub, snorting a little as I resumed laughing like a hyena. The euphoria and joy I felt was indescribable, I was just so happy Erin was back. The lilac bubble bath covered the surface of the water in a thin film of suds. The layer of bubbly white foam concealed my altered form beneath. But I could feel the warmth around my new, curvaceous bod. The plumpness of my feminine rear pressing against the hard ceramic tub crept into consciousness. It provided a better cushion than my bony male rump. As I scootched down lowering myself into the warm water, I became aware of a difference in the articulation of my wider hip joints. As I moved, my nipples broke the surface of the warm water, responding instantly to the cold air. I cupped them in my hands, grinning ear to ear as I re-submerged my sweater torpedoes.

In a word, I felt marvelous. Shifting itself was an amazing process, entirely painless and somewhat quick. I figured it must get easier each time it happens. I'd even gotten through tonights change faster than the ones I experienced last month. And the end result was just as wonderful. Last month, I was caught off guard by something new and terrifying. Armed with the knowledge that it was going to happen again tonight, the event was less traumatic, but no less unsettling. In a way, it reminded me of baseball practice as a kid. When the time came to go, I never wanted to and I made up excuses to get out of it. But in the end, I always wound up being forced to go only to have a wonderful time once I got there. I liked baseball, I was friends with my team mates and instead of serious drills and scrimmaging, we usually ended up just goofing off. My situation now was the same but different. I loved having a female body, I liked my new pack-mates, and it seemed increasingly likely that I'd enjoy the time I was forced to spend as Erin. Since the manual indicated there was no cure for being what I am, my options were to embrace it or let it drive me crazy.
 

*          *          *

 
(In an apartment complex not too far away)

The sound of an angry keystroke echoed off the walls of Jerry's apartment. One of his on-line 'gurlfriends' had invited him to an outing at a club not far from his house. Sitting in front of the glowing monitor, running over the latest draft of the message intended to blow off the invitation, he could not bring himself to press the send key. Jerry was tired of playing it safe when it came to his female persona. He had gone to such lengths to prevent his secret from being discovered by everyone, and it brought him nothing but misery. Even though the outing was close to where Jerry lived and worked, a big no-no he'd sworn off long ago, it seemed like a better option than sitting alone at home. Something about witnessing Aaron the other weekend at the mall, so confidently purchasing all of those girly items, seemed to embolden Jerry. Why should he hide in the shadows when he felt quite certain nobody in the light would care how he was dressed?

Jerry deleted the brush off message. The message he sent to accept the invite took only seconds to write and send.


“Thanks for the invite, Nessa. I'll see you there at 10!
Hugs,
Jenny”

Invested with a new sense of confidence, Jerry unlocked the thick trunk in the back of his closet. Peeling back the lid revealed all of Jenny's belongings. It was his own, private girl-in-a-box, he could take her out whenever he desired. And that seemed to be increasingly frequent of late. Just like so many nights before, Jerry was going to make the switch to Jenny mode, to take the girl out of the box.. But unlike all the previous nights where secrecy was of paramount concern, this evening he was going out, risks be damned.
 

*          *          *

 
(Back in Erin's bathroom)

The water was beginning to cool, and my fingers were pruning up as I emerged from the tub. The gentle swat of my breasts as I pulled myself up from the sitting position caught my attention. I wondered to if their wild movements would ever become second nature, or if I'd always be especially aware of my wobbly bits. I grabbed the towel to dry my dripping body, carefully setting aside the bra and panties on top. When I was dry, I wrapped the towel around my chest and stepped out in front of the mirror.

My reflection in the candle-light took my breath away. A rounded face topped off with a gentle button of a nose stared back. My big. hazel eyes appeared luminous as they reflected the tiny, flickering flames. Wet brown hair clung to a smaller head, and for the first time I noticed my ears stuck out a little more than an average persons. 'Great, I have Dumbo-ears,' I thought, but hey nobody's perfect. My soft cupid bow lips curled upwards into a smile, 'Are all girls this self conscious?' It was a rhetorical question best left unanswered. Right now, I had to get ready to meet Emily.

So I picked up my new panties, looking for a tag to tell front from back, and stepped into them one leg at a time. As I pulled the waist band up to the proper position on my hips, the stretchy material seemed to hug the subtle feminine mound featured on my otherwise flat crotch. In a strange way, it was comforting to be tucked in so well. The feeling from the luxurious material seemed to rub me just right too. The garment was snug but not overly tight, breathable but insulating, concealing but revealing. Covering my nudity it was practical and ornamental at once, a girly blend of form and function.

Next came the bra. It felt like a crime to hide my lovely breasts, but society had rules and I had a sense of decency. So I picked up the slinky silk support system and held it up for a second. Quickly realizing I had no idea how to put it on, I remembered all my experience undoing them. But it was no help to me now. Of all the things Erin somehow automatically knew, sizes, styles, stores and shoes, somehow this knowledge evaded her. But I was an intelligent human being, as a college graduate and a business manager I was definitely capable of figuring this puzzle out.

After trying to hook the back together with the front in position and nearly dislocating my shoulders, an idea occurred to me. I flipped the bra around and lowered both hands. Right about belly button level, where my hips first began to flare out, I secured the latch in front of me and spun it around to the back. Then I gently lifted the elastic shoulder straps, pulling my arms through when they were in position. Tugging on the chest band, I made sure it was even before gently inserting my breasts into the cups. The twins were squished together, and suspended somewhat higher than their natural position on my chest. After a minor adjustment or two, my breasts were securely supported by properly adjusted shoulder straps, and a perfectly fitting bra. The constrictive chest band against my skin, which I thought might be unpleasant, instead felt like a gentle hug. I felt lighter, the garment seemed to distribute the weight of my breasts more evenly across my back and shoulders. The soft padding inside the cups guarded my nipples against irritation, and as I moved the material didn't shift against my sensitive skin. I was elated.

What's more, as good as it felt to wear, it looked even better in the small vanity mirror.

Running a brush through wet tangly hair, I turned on the blow dryer and went to town. Becoming softer under the brush, it fell straight down to my shoulders as it dried in the warm breeze. I'd need Emily's help to style it, but I could at least get it looking acceptable for public view. As the device hummed away in my palm, I remembered making fun of girlfriends past for spending so long in the bathroom. I now understood why they'd wake up so early to get their appearance right before work. Just blow drying my mop took 15 solid minutes. When the deed was done at last, I opened up a box of hair ties and deftly guided my chestnut locks into a tight pony-tail. It was easier than I though it would be, and didn't look half bad. All throughout my male life, I admired a good pony-tail. To me, both then and now, women always looked their best when they weren't trying to.
 

*          *          *

 
(Meanwhile, in the back of Jerry's closet)

Jenny picked out her favorite black dress, it came down past the knees and covered her bulky arms. She turned around placing it on the bed behind her. Her temples were pounding with excitement as she handled her silicone breast forms gently removing them from their container. Of all the accessories she'd accumulated, Jenny's forms were by far her favorite. She set them down next to the dress and fished out her derriá¨re. It was one of the more expensive items in the collection, a Veronica II, but it was worth every penny. She set aside some jewelry, underwear, and gently lifted the make-up box out of the larger trunk. Jenny was careful with the make-up box, remembering the time the lid fell off spilling all the powders into a cloud of noxious vapor. It stained the carpet below and poor Jerry was left to taste the stuff on his palette for a week afterwards.

While she selecting a wardrobe, Jenny plotted a make-up strategy. This was especially important tonight, she didn't want to be recognized if it could be avoided. Settling on a 'girl next door grown up' sort of look, which at a youthful 26 she felts she could pull off, Jenny headed off to shower and shave. Along the way, she switched on her i-Pod and set it to play Shania Twain's, “I Feel Like a Woman,” a ritual that helped to mentally wash the boy off. It would take a while to get ready, but the night was young.
 

*          *          *

 
(And we're back at Erin's...it's like a tennis match, no?)

After my hair was dry, I realized how positively starving the metabolic miracle of my transformation had left me. Making a bee-line to the fridge in nothing but my bra and panties, I simply couldn't wait another moment for food. Besides, why risk staining my dress? On the top shelf I found what I was looking for, a container of Chinese leftovers. Day-old, last night's Kung-Pow chicken. I didn't bother to heat it, and hungrily devoured the contents of the carton. At the bottom of the brown paper bag I was about to toss out was a small fortune cookie. I was still a bit peckish and opened it up. I devoured the cookie while reading the message to myself.

'Life's most rewarding journey is seldom one we choose.'

How... appropriate. Confucius never ceases to amaze.

As I entered the bedroom, my eyes were treated to the visage of my reflection in a full length mirror. Clad in the no-line panties and a push-up bra, I looked like a Victoria's Secret model on the job. My jaw dropped and I couldn't believe it was me staring back. But I was looking forward to slipping into my dress far to much to be distracted.

I pulled the little, black Anne Taylor dress up against my chest, and twirled around while holding it tightly. I'm not known for my twirling, and I fell hitting the ground butt first with a thud. After a second of being shocked by my own clumsiness, I recovered and stood up. That was embarrassing, I felt thankful that nobody was watching me right now. I pulled the dress on over my head, and adjusted it in the mirror. It hung just right and clung so tight in all places it should, as though it was sewn over a mannequin of my body. The silk threads grabbing my hips and waist firmly enhanced my hourglass shape. The tense material eased up around the buttocks, there the material was less grabby, and seemed to have more give. The straps of my shoulders covered my bra entirely, some women can pull off the 'showing a little strap' look, but I had too much class for that.

I looked myself over head to toe, well satisfied with the results of my endeavor, it was time to get moving. I needed to call Emily so she'd know to expect me. Tonight, after a make-up lesson and some hairstyling tips, she was taking me to meet up with a few other sisters I'd met last month. I asked her, “Where?” a million times throughout the month, but she refused to tell me. The only thing she said to shut me up was...

“It's a place you always wanted to go, you'll know what I mean when we get there.”
 

*          *          *

 
End of Part 12
 
 
To Be Continued...
 

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To the anonymous person who is beautifying my work,

A sincere and heart felt thanks. I appreciate your help, and the story looks and reads so much better with your added touch. PM me any time, and again thank you for helping me out!

Twas Me


Sephrena Lynn Miller
BigCloset TopShelf
TGLibrary.com
    who did the deed =^.^=

ty!
 
 
 
 

Jerry

An online girlfriend called "Nessa", an invitation to a club - during the full moon...

What makes me think Jenny will be this month's pack newbie? Possibly courtesy of Vanessa...

It wouldn't surprise me if we haven't seen the last of the movie couple either...
 
 
--Ben


This space intentionally left blank.

As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!

New Werewoman Handbook Pt. 12

I can't help but think that Jerry/Jenny is the wild card and might be able to deduce the truth about the Werewoman .

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