Jerry awoke leaning up against the foyer wall of his apartment. His door was shut, but not locked. Glancing at his watch, he’d been unconscious for about an hour.
Jerry had not been himself since his encounter with the Jamaican. Whatever she had done not only cured him of the werewoman curse, but also stripped him of all transgender inclinations. Since their meeting just over two weeks ago, he hadn’t dressed once. While dressing lulls were nothing new, not thinking about it at all was. It simply never came to mind anymore.
‘How could something that gave him such pleasure; that defined him as a person simply disappear?’ Jerry wondered as he stared at the girl-in-the-box before him. ‘Is it better this way?’ he thought, staring at his formerly prized possessions and feeling nothing. And that’s what he felt most of the time now, nothing. He was emotionless and devoid of joy. ‘What have I given up?’ he asked himself. ‘Too much,’ he answered his own question. He closed the box.
‘But what could he do about it? How could he get it back?’ Jerry paced in his bedroom. ‘Should he go see Erin, or Emily? Should he beg to be bitten and turned?’ He wondered. ‘Would they even do it? And if they did would it work?’ Jerry began to feel like he’d blown his golden opportunity for happiness.
His head spun as he seated himself in front of the television once more. ‘Or perhaps I should just give being a ‘normal’ guy another chance...’
As he drove off towards his home, I asked Emily a question. “Do you think that it worked? Is he ‘cured?’” I made air-quotes around the word ‘cured’ for effect.
“I do believe he is, but at a terrible cost perhaps.” Emily answered.
“Do you think that ritual could work on me?” I asked out of curiosity.
“No. I asked her to cleanse me once, long ago. She said it was impossible. Once the transformation has occurred there is no going back. You’re doomed to werewomanhood for life. There is a cure for what we are, but once you've turned, there is no release.” She sounded almost sad as she finished her monologue.
But I wasn’t sad. Quite the opposite in fact, I was happy to be ‘doomed.’
Whoever burst into the room seemed to be having a tough time. Jerry could hear him huffing and puffing, as though they were having some sort of medical emergency. He was finished using the toilet, pants up and belt buckled. Cautiously he peered over the top of the cubicle wall, standing on the john for a boost.
What he saw amazed him. His boss, Aaron, was the man who burst in so suddenly. He’d splashed some water on his face as Jerry watched. His breathing stabilized, and Jerry was about to ask him if he needed help. But his boss spoke before he could.
“Oh my God! No, not tonight. Don’t change! Don’t change!” said Aaron.
Jerry wasn’t sure what he meant at first. But the answer became obvious; his boss was shrinking quite rapidly. His face also seemed to be softening, as his hair lengthened. Soon, other changes became obvious as he pulled off his shirt and his pants fell to the floor. Right there, in front of Jerry, Aaron was turning into a woman, and a beautiful one at that. Maybe the ‘New Werewoman Handbook’ wasn’t fiction after-all!
As the thought occurred to him, Jerry slipped ever so slightly. “SWOOOOSH” roared the toilet beneath his feet. The new girl looked in his direction, and Jerry smiled back meekly.
Emily appeared to be taken aback. "That won't be necessary" she said softly. "I think it's time I left this pack, and I'm taking Erin with me."
"Like hell you are." replied Heather. "You even try it and I'll gut you like I should have back in '91." she was hovering over Emily who was still seated.
"You can try, but I think you'll find it won't be quite as easy as it was back then." even Emily couldn't tell if she was bluffing as she spoke. She too had grown stronger over the years, but whether or not it would be enough to over-power Heather was a mystery to both women...
"Your attitude concerns me, Emily. I've tried to be patient with you, but all I get in return is insubordination." Heather began to speak her piece. "You continually undermine me in front of my pack, and I'm not going to stand for it much longer."
"Your pack?" Emily interrupted. "That's a laugh. All you've done is run around recruiting new sisters, and I'm always there to clean up your mess. Remind me, who was it that trained all of your so called pack sisters to accept their condition? Oh that's right, Becky and I took it upon ourselves. You just bite or bang, and hand them a book in the hopes that they'll figure it out on their own." Emily was audibly hostile.
Jerry awoke in his own bed that morning, not quite sure how he'd gotten there. All he seemed to remember was being at Queen Anne's Revenge one moment, and waking up at his place the next. Whatever happened in between was a total blur. What's more, he seemed to be wearing mens clothing that was not his own. Navy blue Adidas shorts and a bright yellow 'USC Banana Slugs' t-shirt adorned his body. He looked like...a dork.
"What's all this about the moon now?” Heath was confused.
“A werewoman, you know, like werewolf except not hairy and violent.” Tina was walking up to Heath, unfastening the remaining buttons on her Oxford as she went. Heath could see her stiff, pointy nipples pressing against the fabric of the strained white t-shirt beneath. “Instead of fangs and claws, I grow these” Tina cupped her breasts in her hands through her shirt. “And instead of howling at the moon, I like to moan at it.” she continued. “But that's not the best part.” Tina said with a wink.
Heath went for the set up. “What is?” he asked. He was already under her spell.
Tina smiled wickedly, she had Heath right where she wanted him. “I can make you one too..."
“I wonder if 'Tranny-Granny will be here tonight.” said Jessica as they made their way through the crowd.
“Odds are she will. She's never missed a night to my knowledge. Every time I've been here, she just sits at her stool from open to close. It's sad, like she's waiting for someone.” Katie answered. “But I hope I'm out and about at her age.”
“Who is 'Tranny-Granny.'” asked Jenny looking puzzled.
“She's this crazy old cross-dresser, and when I say old we're talking ninety, give or take a year.”
Heather sat on her stool still deep in thought. The quiet hours at the club were therapeutic for her. Everyone on the full-time staff knew about her condition, so there was no need to hide it here in her sanctuary. She had a couple of weremen on staff, like the large framed front door bouncer, Eric. He went by Erica during the day, but liked to hulk up most if not every night. She didn't have any werewomen on the staff, better to make pack sisters out of them than employees.
It felt like I was floating on air as I carried my make-up kit into the bathroom. I also brought along some products for my soon to be long and silky hair. I spread them about automatically, adjusting them as the strengthening girl voice in my head commanded me to. I even slung the push-up bra and a pair of no-line panties I wanted to wear after the change over my bath towel. Erin was preparing my house to suit her needs knowing that she would be unleashed again very soon. Aaron, on the other hand, was growing weaker as the day progressed. Somehow, knowing that the coming transformation was unavoidable allowed me to accept it.
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 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.
Did she recognize me? Well she walked right past me and took a seat without a word so I guess not. Now that the matter of her recognizing me was settled, I felt compelled to ask. In a shy, frail voice much higher than the one I was used to, I found myself saying, “You guys...what's a day-walker?”
“Oh for Pete's sake Heather, you said you covered the important stuff.” belted Vanessa. “And with melons like hers,” Vanessa stood and gestured to my ample breasts, “that should have been the first chapter you told her to read.”
I found myself fighting back tears on the drive back to my place. Questions sprang to mind, 'Why me? Why should I have to put up with this curse?' but no answers came. Pulling into my lot, I saw an unfamiliar car in my reserved parking space. Could it be Heather?
My front door was unlocked, I knew she was behind it. She looked up at me as I entered the apartment, I must have been a sight to see in those over-sized boy clothes. I expected her to be angry with me, but she seemed more concerned. That's when the tears came.
I cried myself to sleep that night after Heather left. I felt horrible for lashing out, but I was still upset with her for turning me into this.
“How can that be?” I asked, fearing her answer would match the one in the book. I remember reading something about opposite readings. I thought about Jerry at the office today. Then a sudden flash of recall. The tiny courtroom stenographer in my mind read back last night's transcript, 'These readings usually came from folks that identified as trans-gendered.'
Work was a total drag. Once again I was way off during the presentation, and it was embarrassing. I couldn't get my mind off the book, last night, the change...and tonight. If the book was accurate, and it had been so far, I'd be changing into a woman again at moon rise. Try working with that in the back of your mind!
Chapter 1 had a ton of information. It began by saying, “Chances are, if you are gazing upon this book, the information within applies to YOU.” Check.
I could scarcely believe what happened to me, but fighting the fire in my kitchen stole top priority.
This has to be the worst day ever. I start out by running late for work with no time for breakfast. I'd been kept awake all week by strange dreams, and today it caught up to me. I underwhelmed a valuable client, my boss and some co-workers during a really important presentation because I felt so distracted. All day I just couldn't focus on my work, and every time I tried my thoughts wandered back to those dreams.