Jesse takes a moment
to reflect on his changes.
By Taylor Ryan
Copyright© 2017 Taylor Ryan
All Rights Reserved.
Volume 1: Part 5
An old, musty smell greeted me, despite the cleanliness of the vast shower room. It reminded me of the showers in gym class. Selecting a spot close to the door, I quietly strolled over. I stood to the side, not wanting to get blasted with cold water. The vintage knobs creaked as I turned them. Water trickled from the shower head. Several spurts later, and it was flowing in a steady stream before me. Cautiously I pushed my hand into the stream, and found it to be suitably warm enough.
Stepping into the stream, the water cascaded over me. A slight bit of trepidation filled my body, and I could barely move. I stood for a long time; letting the water beat down on my head. My eyes held tightly shut. Only recently had I begun showering with the guys in gym class. Now I stood naked, in a female body, showering in a weird underground facility, beneath a magical theater that nobody could see.
I felt my body shaking. The water temperature seemed fine. This was something else. I exhaled in tiny little bursts. My lips curved into a smile. Then the shaking moved up from my stomach, past my lungs, and exploded out of my mouth in a fit of laughter. How in the world could I not laugh? Everything about this was insane!
"Are you okay in there?" Tory's voice echoed through the bathroom outside.
"I'm fine," I said, trying to subdue my laughter.
"It sounded like you were crying," Tory said, a little closer now.
"I'm laughing," I said.
Silence greeted me for a long while. Then, as if from just on the other side of the wall, Tory's voice returned. "Why?"
"I just realized," I said, between giggles. "How completely insane this all is."
"You sure you're okay?" Tory asked.
"Should I be?" I responded. "After what happened… is anyone here really okay?"
"Do you need anything?" Tory asked, after another long moment of silence.
"Yes," I said, smiling at myself. "Could you get my penis for me?" I couldn't hold back my laughter now, and let it echo throughout the shower room. Eventually it died down, and I started to worry I had made Tory mad.
"I'll be outside," she said, nearly a minute later.
I felt a little ashamed at my outburst. "Tory," I said, only to be greeted with silence. "Don't be mad."
I poked my head out of the shower room, but she was nowhere in sight. Groaning at my stupidity, I returned to my shower. The water felt different to me. Not like it was magical water, or anything strange like that. It simply felt different on my body. It felt like even my skin was new, and I was feeling water for the first time. This new sensation is what eventually caused me to examine myself.
Tory had been right about me wanting to explore. I knew she wasn't talking about anything sexual when she had said it, but I couldn't lie. I had thoughts about that as well. My brain still worked like a teenage boy's mind. This time around, however, I thought it best if I approached my new body scientifically. The first step was to actually look at it; to really see it for the first time.
I stepped back, away from the water. My hands moved out to the sides, as I tilted my head toward the floor. The first thing to fill my vision were a pair of rather perky breasts. They weren't huge; somewhere between oranges and grapefruits. I shook my chest a little and watched them jiggle. While I had never been that enthralled by bouncing boobs, I couldn't help gazing at my own new pair for awhile.
After jiggling my breasts several times, I started to get accustomed to their weight, and how they felt upon my chest. In my current position, my breathing managed to hit my nipples with rhythmic blasts of cold air. It wasn't long before they stood proudly erect, and my mind began to wander. Without realizing it, my hands had reached up for them. My fingers gently grazed the erect nipples, and the surrounding pink circles of flesh. They seemed to be twice the size as I had before the change.
I emerged into a trance-like state after another minute. My fingers continued to move about my breasts. I pinched my nipples a few times, gently, and cupped my breasts. Slowly my eyes drifted shut, and my head fell back. I felt myself slowly moving toward the flowing water in front of me. It felt safe and inviting.
Suddenly my eyes fluttered. For a brief moment I envisioned myself standing up to my knees in a pool of water. A rushing waterfall flowed over me from overhead. The sound of which soon joined with my vision. Other sounds trickled in slowly; sounds of nature, like birds singing and leaves rustling in the wind. I found myself surrounded by a dense forest. It felt as though I had been to this place before. All of it seemed familiar; even the sound of twigs breaking behind me.
My head jerked to the right. I could see a male face in the bushes, staring longingly, and watching my every move. My eyes shot open. I twisted my upper body to the right. Instinctively, my hands and arms covered my naked breasts. Searching for the intruder, my eyes scanned the inside of the shower room. There was no one there. The vision of the forest, of the waterfall; it all dissipated. Trembling, I returned to the warm water of the shower.
Feeling a little freaked out about my vision, I quickly hurried through the rest of my shower. Exploration of my new body could wait. Perhaps it would be best to see it in a more private environment anyway. Tory had mentioned moving me to a private room. They probably thought it best considering my special circumstances. After all, I was the only girl in the place that used to be a boy. Apparently, news of my accommodations didn't sit well with everyone.
"How come the new girl gets a private room?" I heard a girl saying, as I exited the bathroom.
"It was Leann's call," Tory said.
The girl saw me exit, and stormed off. "So unfair!" she exclaimed as she walked away.
Tory turned her head and saw me. "Sorry about that," she said. "Hailey is a bit of a drama queen."
"She's got a right to be angry," I said. "I'm new here."
"She can be angry all she wants," Tory said. "I've been her almost as long as she has, and I still have a roommate. Besides… She's not in charge." Tory turned her entire body now to face me. "Feel better?"
Tory waved me to follow her. "Maybe when you're wearing some clothes."
I tightened the towel around my chest. Luckily I had seen enough movies and shows to know how girls should wear a towel. I didn't know everything though. For instance, I didn't have a clue how to put my hair up in a towel. So I squeezed as much water out of it, and let it hang. To be honest, there were things I really didn't wish to know, and things I had to learn on the fly. Cleaning a new set of genitalia in the shower came to mind.
I shook that thought from my head, as I tried to key in on where Tory was taking me. We had walked down a corridor from the showers, and taken the first right. Then after passing two hallways, we had turned left. Tory pointed out the letter "C" on the wall, and lovingly referred to it as C-block. As if the place didn't feel enough like a prison.
Down this hallway were several doors; all on the right side. We passed a couple of them. One even had an old poster taped to the outside. It seemed to showcase an old theater production done here at The Regale. Finally we arrived at an open door, and Tory reached inside to turn on a flickering light. I chuckled when I saw the sign by the door.
"C-4," I said, smiling. "Luckily I have plenty of experience with that."
Tory gave me a puzzled look.
"You know… like the explosive?"
"Why would you have experience with explosives?" Tory asked.
"I'm a pro at first person shooters," I bragged, adding a not-so-subtle smile.
Tory simply shrugged. "I don't get it."
My smile faded. "Seriously?" I asked. "You all don't play video games?"
"Not a lot of time for games around here," Tory said. "And as far as technology goes… Well, we don't even have internet."
I groaned. "It's like you're all living in the stone age."
"What did you expect?" Tory asked.
"I guess living in the basement of an old theater should've clued me in." I sighed, as I stepped into my new room. "But how do you do research, or anything?"
"Good old-fashioned books," Tory said.
I shook my head quietly, and sighed.
"Do you need anything?" Tory asked.
"Just a little privacy," I said.
"I understand," Tory said. "I put your belongings away. I'll let you get settled."
Tory disappeared with the closing of my door. I stood for a moment, staring at the closed door, before turning to face my new dorm room. While it may have been a private room, it still looked pretty small. There was a small bed in the corner, with a stack of clean sheets on top of it; a step up from the previous night's cot. Next to the bed stood a desk and chair. Tory had set up the alarm clock there, that she had purchased earlier in the day.
Following along that wall, there stood a four drawer dresser. It rose to slightly past waist high. Probably would have been exactly waist high on my old body. My change in body mass still baffled me. It defied everything I had learned in science class. I managed to hold onto a little shred of doubt about my change; thinking maybe I had slipped into a coma, and all of this was a dream.
Everything seemed too real though. That reality hit even harder as I looked at the wall opposite of the door. A metal bar stretched across the entirety of the room on that side. Hanging on the bar were the clothes I had spent all day shopping for and cleaning. Washing them to wear at this very moment, and quite possibly for the rest of my life. This was my new reality.
I eased myself into the chair at the desk. For a long moment I stared at that wall of clothes. A medium-sized metal rack sat beneath the hanging clothes; proudly displaying my small shoe collection. The truth was, I didn't want to wear any of it. If I had been even slightly interested in cross-dressing before, I probably would have enjoyed this entire turn of events.
My mind kept circling back to the life I had left behind. Granted, I was a teenager, so it wasn't like I'd been stripped of being a world class surgeon, or anything like that. Still, it was my life. I had friends, and family. Well… a friend, and a father. There were at least two people probably worried sick about my disappearance.
All day long I had thought about going back home. To at least tell my father where I had gone. However, the more I thought about it, the more I worried about what he might think. How exactly do you explain a magical body transformation, without sounding crazy? If I'd simply been like the other girls, I could have stayed at home until college, and then move away. But if I went home now, and tried to explain this, I'd probably end up in a different room this size; complete with padded walls.
A subtle knock on my door drew me out of my ponderings. "Yes?"
The door opened a crack, and Tory stuck her head in. "Leann is back, if you want to talk with her," she said. "She's in the auditorium."
"Thanks," I said, without changing my gaze.
"You alright?" Tory asked. "I'm kind of worried about you."
"I'm fine," I said. "Just… thinking."
"Well… take your time," Tory said, before pulling the door shut.
It seemed time is all I had. Tory had grown on me at least. I figured she would be extremely pushy all day, but she had given me space when necessary, and support when I needed it most. She seemed to get over the initial shock of me formerly being a boy, a lot easier than Leann had. In fact, I was actually dreading talking to Leann again, but I needed some answers.
I certainly didn't want to go upstairs in a towel, however. So I decided I best get dressed. As if right on cue, I sensed the sudden urge to wear tights again. Tory had said the urge would die down over time. I hoped it would be sooner, rather than later. Admittedly, I never hated seeing a nice pair of legs in tights. Take them or leave them, they made a girls' legs look pretty good. I just never figured I'd be the girl wearing them.
This time, though, I pushed myself to go about dressing without being a mindless drone. It wasn't like I wanted to enjoy the experience, but rather be aware of the experience. I had always been a daredevil, yet somehow I never took a dare to wear female attire as a boy. I still wasn't even sure what possessed me to slip on that first pair of tights. Was it fate? Or was it something more sinister, or magical?
I stood before the stout antique dresser. As I pulled open the top drawer, I wondered about all of the old things the girls had kept over the years. They must have amassed a serious amount of ancient fortune. I gazed at the small collection of panties in the drawer. Even if I stood there for a hundred years, I knew I could never decide on which ones to wear. Closing my eyes, I let my hand hover over them.
Eventually my hand dropped, and I opened my eyes. Fate had ironically picked out a pair of boyshorts. I pulled the boyshorts from the drawer and examined them. Given the fact that I hardly wanted to shop for lingerie, I had let Tory inject quite a bit of her knowledge in the matter of picking out what was best. She gave me insight into what might be comfortable, or appropriate for certain situations. With my circumstances, she had also tried to pick out styles that might help me feel at ease.
That being the case, we mostly picked out boyshorts and classic brief styles. Of course, this came with the promise that she'd get me something else if I wasn't comfortable with the selections. I really didn't care about colors, so I let Tory pick for me. After nearly fourteen years of wearing white, it didn't seem to matter all that much. So I ended up with a little bit of white, a little bit of black, and a few "fun" colors; as Tory put it.
I gazed past the pair of pastel green boyshorts, straight into a mirror above the dresser. My pretty little face, something I still couldn't quite get over, was actually sporting a smile. Of all the bizarre things that had happened to me in the past day, I was actually smiling about a stupid pair of panties. My eyes rolled as I turned away from the mirror. After checking that my door was still closed, I pulled at the top of my towel. It dropped unceremoniously to the floor.
Stooping over, I stepped into the pair of boyshorts, and slipped them up my legs. They were a light cotton knit, but didn't feel all that different from my old underwear. Maybe Tory had the right idea of easing me into this gently. I found a matching bra in the drawer, and slipped it over my shoulders. Tory had picked out a few front-closing bras for me, in hopes they would be easier for me. This happened to be one of those bras, and it was indeed easy to close.
I had to adjust the bra a little, but eventually got it sitting comfortably over my breasts. The idea of having female genitalia still made me feel weird. Thinking of breasts as boobs, rather than a male chest, almost made my head hurt. That wasn't even the complicated part of my change. I still had no idea what all was going on down south. Health class can only show you crappy drawn images in a book. They don't let you look at a real vagina up close, or touch one.
As I sifted through the next drawer, full of tights, I wondered about who the oldest girl at the theater was. Not by how long they had been stuck with the ageless curse, but rather who was the oldest before being changed. We were all stuck as teenagers now, but had any of them been older? Was there a woman in her thirties walking around the building? I had to remember to ask Leann about it.
Speaking of Leann, she was probably waiting on me. I eventually decided on a pair of tights. Just touching them made me want to wear every pair in the drawer. However, I pulled a pair of dark grey tights from the collection, and strolled over to the chair. I took my time pulling them on, one scrunched up leg at a time. It's almost like I didn't care what else I wore, but putting on the tights had to feel like the main event. I hoped this feeling would go away quickly.
Tory had associated it to a residual sickness. Something that would eventually die down, but at the moment made it feel like I couldn't live without tights in my life. The spell worked almost like an addictive drug. It hit extremely hard at first, making you feel alive. Then the craving persisted, to where you had to wear the item as much as possible. Unlike a drug, however, the craving went away with time. A few girls had even kicked the habit, so to speak.
Needless to say, this didn't make me feel any better. I felt like I had been tricked into taking a "drug" that I never consented to trying. Yes, I put on the tights. But I didn't think for one second that they would change me into a girl and dictate my life. If anything, I just wanted to get off on wearing something I thought Erin had worn. I actually hated the fact that the spell hadn't changed my male mind as well. Perhaps if I thought like a girl, I wouldn't mind being in this new body so much.
It infuriated me. I didn't want to wear a bra, but now I needed the support of one, or at least something to cover up my breasts. I also didn't want to wear panties, but that had become, "Why not? I'm wearing a bra." To add to this, I didn't want to wear the tights, but because of the spell, I loved tights. The only part of my brain that had changed, in fact, was the chemical imbalance persuading me to love nylons of all types.
Of course it all made sense to finish the look with female clothing. Why wear an entire feminine base layer, without putting on a pretty dress over it? I jumped to my feet, yanking the tights up over my pantied butt. Furiously, I stormed over to my makeshift closet. Pushing aside the skirts and feminine tops, I searched feverishly for my hoodie and jeans from the night before.
"Where are they?" I muttered. "I bet Tory tossed them out."
I stormed over to the dresser, and yanked the third drawer open. It had a few pairs of socks and some belts stored away. I slammed the drawer shut, and yanked open the last drawer on the bottom. There, neatly folded side-by-side, were my old pair of male jeans, and the hoodie. I dropped to my knees, and stared at them; fighting back tears which were welling up inside of my eyes.
After all of what I had been through, I felt touched that Tory had actually kept my old belongings. My hand ran gently over the hoodie. Tory had told me not to give up on wanting to be a boy again. She believed, as I did, that there could some day be a remedy for the curse. As I stared down at my old clothes, I knew it was her way of saying to hold onto hope. I had to push myself to be strong. Whatever it took, I would find a way to end this curse, and return to my former self. Even if it meant wearing tights and skirts for awhile.
To Be Continued...
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks.