I sat by the living room door, eagerly awaiting with nervous anticipation. The seconds felt like hours as the hands on the clock on the wall slowly swept by each tick mark. Every few minutes I’d peek out between the blinds, hoping to catch a glimpse of the package that I knew would change my life.

I’d saved up for months just to be able to order this, forgoing lunch every day at school and doing odd jobs around the neighborhood to supplement what meager income I made from working as a bagger at the local grocery story. My father made me put most of my paycheck into a college savings fund, otherwise I would have been able to afford this much sooner. As it was, today marked six months to the day since I first laid eyes on this particular piece of perfection, and it was finally arriving.

After what seemed like three lifetimes, the FedEx truck pulled up to the curb and the driver made his way up the walkway. I was so excited that I practically burst through the front door before he even had a chance to ring the doorbell. I so desperately wanted to open the package and put it on right there, but I managed to compose myself long enough to sign for it and close the door behind me as I went back inside. 

I practically floated up the stairs to my bedroom and placed the package on my pristinely-made bed, slowly slicing open the tape that held the box together. I tried not to look inside until it was completely open, because I didn’t want to spoil the moment. Carefully pulling it out of the box, I let the contents unfurl and laid my eyes on the most glorious thing I’d seen in my life: my first dress.

It was perfect.

The shimmering blue fabric practically glowed in what little sunlight broke through my closed curtains, and I could have sworn I saw the gown swishing back and forth, as if I was already wearing it and strutting my way to the stage as the most beautiful prom queen my school had ever seen. 

I took extra care not to wrinkle even a bit of the flawless dress as I hung it from the hook behind my door before slowly taking off the drab clothing I’d been wearing while I waited for this life-changing dress to finally arrive. I slipped off what would be the last pair of jeans I would ever wear, folded them nicely and put them back in the drawer where my other soon-to-be obsolete pants were stored. The T-shirt I was wearing went straight into the laundry basket, though at that moment I thought a trash basket would be more appropriate. Compared to this dress, all my old clothes were trash. 

Finally, I pulled my boxer shorts down to my ankles, then gently stepped out of them, leaving them on the floor. I couldn’t be bothered to pick them up and delay this moment any longer. I slipped on a pair of panties I’d stolen from my sister’s laundry weeks ago. They were a bit snug, though skipping lunches to save money had also had the added benefit of helping slim down my already trim frame even more. In fact, I worried a bit that the dress might be too loose now, but as I looked at it on the hook, I knew it’d be a perfect fit. 

It had to be.

My body trembled as I slipped the dress off its padded hanger. I held it up against my skin, staring at myself in the mirror. I knew there was no turning back from here. I turned away from the mirror and slowly, gently, unzipped the back down to the waist and held the dress out in front of me. I was unsure of whether to step into it and pull it up, like a pair of pants, or to pull it down over my head like a shirt. I didn’t want to do anything wrong, for fear that it wouldn’t work. I decided to step into it, since it was a one-shoulder gown, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to squeeze the whole thing down past both shoulders without tearing it.

The fabric felt incredible against my legs, like nothing I’d ever worn before. The robes I’d worn when my parents forced me to join the church choir were soft and shiny too, but I’d always worn them atop a cotton shirt and pants. Because we left them at the church each week, I never got the chance to wear them without my regular clothes, but I’d spent many a stray moment imagining how they’d feel directly against my body. Not even in my wildest imagination could I have dreamed that they’d feel as good as this dress did in this moment.

It was like I was in an entirely new universe as I pulled the dress up past my waist and maneuvered my left arm into the shoulder. I called upon every bit of flexibility I’d ever demonstrated in my life as I zipped up the back with my right arm, practically pulling my shoulder out of the socket to do so. But beauty is pain and this pain was worth it. I was finally dressed in my perfect dress. I took a deep breath and composed myself, trying not to let out a squeal of joy – prom queens didn’t squeal, they, smiled demurely.

Turning back toward the mirror, I closed my eyes and silently calmed myself. “This is it,” my mind’s voice said. “This is everything you’ve been waiting for. Your dream is about to come true.”

Upon opening my eyes, I realized how true those words were. It was no longer just the fabric of the dress that was shimmering, but a swirl of light rising up from the ground. It continued to circle around me, enveloping me from head to toe. As it did, I could feel myself changing.

It started with my toes. I poked them out from the edge of the dress to see that they were now tipped with a pearl polish and gently wedged into a pair of strappy silver shoes with a two-inch heel. The top strap wrapped gently around my now-hairless ankle as my leg began to thin. I pulled up the bottom of the dress and kicked my leg out and watched as all the hair slowly receded into my body and my skin smoothed out, becoming free of blemishes with an unmatched porcelain complexion.

I had to put my leg down and brace myself against the wall as my body continued to reshape itself. My hips flared out and my waist tapered in, giving me the curves I’d always dreamed of, which were complemented by the seams of the dress.

The changes made their way to my hands, which were no longer rough, but smooth and soft, with perfectly-manicured nails coated in a light pink polish, matching the subtle color of my lipstick. I could feel my arms growing more lithe as the hair disappeared from them just as it had my legs. My shoulders slimmed and my flawless skin looked even more beautiful as the dress wrapped around my left arm and under my right. I began to rub my hands against the fabric of the dress, pressing it against my newly reshaped form, when my chest slowly swelled. With each breath I took, it filled the top of the dress more and more. I began to worry that the dress would burst, but as I put my hands on my bountiful breasts, they stopped growing, settling into two gorgeous handfuls of flesh encased in satin.

As I slowly caressed my outstanding breasts, I felt a warmth in my crotch. The feeling was all-too-familiar, but instead of a growing erection, I looked down to see a shrinking one. My testicles had already made their way back inside my body, and my penis was slowly following. I dared not touch it for two fears. First, that the shrinking would stop, and I’d be left stuck halfway through the transformation. But I also feared that this would all be too much, and I’d release everything pent up inside me, staining the dress in the process.

Taking another deep breath to compose myself, I looked back down to see the last of any noticeable bulge disappear, leaving only a flat stretch of blue fabric draped below my waist. I didn’t have to take off the dress or the panties underneath to know that I was now the proud owner of a beautiful pair of lips surrounding my own virgin vaginal opening. As the last of my penis retreated, leaving only a tiny clitoris behind, I let out a bit of a yelp, at a much higher pitch than I was used to.

Instinctively, I reached for my throat, which was now missing a prominent Adam’s apple as well as any unshaved stubble. My neck lengthened, like the beautiful swan who’d just moments earlier been an ugly duckling. The bones in my face reshaped as my hair cascaded past my chin. The locks lightened, going from a mousy brown to a lovely shade of blonde with the slightest platinum highlights. My hands shook as they reached for my lengthening hair. I didn’t want to ruin the styling, but I had to feel it for myself. It was more impeccable than I could have ever imagined. Each golden strand looked as if it had been spun straight off Rumpelstiltskin’s spinning wheel itself.

My reflection in the mirror had never looked so stunning. My blue eyes sparkled in tune with the dress, framed by the most glamorous makeup I’d ever seen. My pouty lips looked ever so kissable, my cheekbones longed to be caressed, and my eyelashes fluttered as the last of the swirling magic faded away. Thanks to this dress, I had become the girl of my dreams. I wanted this moment to last forever.

But it couldn’t.

I looked back in the mirror, and the illusion faded away. I wasn’t a beautiful prom queen. I was an awkward teenage boy in a dress. No wig or makeup or padding on my chest could change that. My face wasn’t stunning – it was covered in a 5 o’clock shadow that was growing out through a poorly-applied makeup job that represented the best I could do with what little I could cobble from my sister’s vanity and a few weeks of watching YouTube tutorials. My blonde hair wasn’t gold – it wasn’t even mine. It was a cheap wig from a local Halloween store, with out-of-place hairs sticking to my face. Each time I tried brushing them away, they just ended up getting caught in the press-on nails I’d haphazardly applied to my hairy, unwieldy hands.

As I stared at my reflection, I wished desperately that my dream would reflect my reality, but no amount of wishing was going to make that true. I turned and leaned back against the mirror, hoping maybe I’d fall through into another universe, but instead I slowly slid to the floor, the satin of the dress rubbing awkwardly against my hairy legs.

Sitting on the floor, I looked down at my crotch, where my penis was tenting out the dress, making it obvious to anyone who might see me that I was no woman. Some might say I’d been blessed with such a large member, but this blessing was a curse to me, a curse that I could only see one way to break.

Still wearing my cheap wig and my ill-fitting dress, I walked into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. As I did, I heard a car pull up the driveway. I knew it wouldn’t be long until my parents came home and found me, so I had to act quickly. I grabbed the unopened bottle of sleeping pills and ran back to my room as quickly as I could, trying not to trip on the dress as I did.

I sat down on my bed and starting pouring the contents of the bottle down my throat, taking sips of a bottle of water from my nightstand to help them go down quicker. The effects of them started to hit me quickly, and it became harder to pour them into my mouth. I had to concentrate to make sure I didn’t spill any, nor spilled any water on my dress. I heard the garage door close as I reached the bottom of the pill bottle, then let the water bottle fall to the ground.

As I began to lose consciousness, I took one last look at myself in the mirror, then closed my eyes and let myself fall back on my bed. My life flashed before my eyes, and the last thing I saw was the girl I dreamed of being, smiling back at me. She looked beautiful. It truly was a perfect dress.

I hope they buried me in it.