The Answer To A Maiden's (?) Prayer Chapter 3

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The Answer To A Maiden's (?) Prayer Chapter Three

I suppose there are worse nicknames to be stuck with than “Miss Steak”, even if it is constantly in need of explanation ( No, not Mistake, Miss Steak) but I still hadn't entirely forgiven Rocky for landing me with it. That said, in over a month of volunteering at the homeless shelter I'd discovered there was a lot more to him than the brash youth who'd compared me to a steak dinner before being slapped down by James, aka Sir Galahad, aka Hopalong, aka Shaft, the man who'd founded and ran the shelter.

James was called Hopalong because one of his legs was a prosthetic after the original one had landed, as he liked to put it 'Somewhere between Hell and Huddersfield but damned if I could find the spot.' during a rocket attack in Afghanistan. He was called Shaft because he had a long leather trench coat like the eponymous detective (No, I'd never heard of Shaft before I started volunteering at the shelter either).The reasons why he was called Sir Galahad are obvious – he can't see someone sick, cold, scared or hurting without wanting to do something about it. He'd managed to get a grant out of the city after the first year, so at least he was getting a basic salary and not paying all the bills himself but I knew he would have done the same work for nothing if only he could survive doing it. The respect he garnered as a veteran,plus the fact that he could break most people in half one handed was also a bonus in that the clientele, many of whom were frankly unruly, would listen to him in a way they wouldn't to most people.

They mostly listened to me too. I like to to think this is because of my charm, beauty and good sense and there's no doubt a lot of the people who come here enjoy talking to a young woman, but I think the fact that James has taken a shine to me is the decisive factor. I definitely am a woman now, physically anyway: the seething mass of flesh and mucus between my legs has settled down into labia major, labia minor, etcetera. I never thought I'd be glad to look between my thighs and see a pussy.

I may be a steak but it seems unfair to cover myself in sauce bearnaise unless I plan to be eaten, so I'm wearing jeans, albeit with flowers stitched on them and a loose shirt open over a stretchy top. The jeans are women's jeans and have a tendency to cling a little too tightly to areas which are more shapely than I'm comfortable with but there's definitely nothing indecent about them – in fact by local standards I look positively demure. (This isn't difficult; I don't know if it's the climate or what but in a beach town in California there appears to be a widespread belief that you don't wear clothes, you wear bait.)

Unfortunately there is no avoiding the stretchy top – my breasts have expanded from little buds to a B cup in the space of a few weeks. No one has commented on this fact but everyone stares. On the other hand I am the only young woman working here on a daily basis (Hannah and a couple of other girls in their last year of high school help out periodically) so the staring may be a comment on the fact that I have breasts to stare at rather than on their rate of expansion..

Things which are part of being a girl that no one ever warns you about beforehand, number 236; when your breasts are growing, they ITCH! I've had to spend a lot of time massaging cream into my boobs. The feelings this produces are just downright disturbing!

I'm in weird place sexually right now. Clarence explained it to me but I'm not at all sure I understood the explanation, which was full of phrases like celestial dynamics, the paradox of free will, the ineffability of the Divine Plan and non-determinative genetic propensities. As far as I could make out what he was saying was that most people are born with an inclination one way or the other but the potential to go either way depending upon their experiences and environment including hormonal and chemical exposures and social, cultural and psychological influences. Clarence says this summary is full of fundamental misunderstandings, but it's good enough for government work and he's tired of explaining. Not as tired as I am of listening!

Anyway, to give the best explanation my flawed understanding can for where I am now, Clarence has reset my genes to be as inclined towards liking guys as he can, which is about sixty-forty. As against this is the experience of my entire life! So, I'm trying to avoid thinking about girls or my past experiences with girls for fear of resetting myself so as to make a relationship with a guy impossible. This is not easy – see aforementioned comment about wearing bait. Even the sight of myself in the mirror makes me uncomfortable in ways I don't entirely understand. I say not entirely; one part I understand very well and that is sheer terror! Most men are polite enough not to come out with the sort of comments Rocky did, or at least not to my face. I don't think I'm being vain when I say that they are definitely thinking them.

Clarence's comments aren't helping. I was kvetching about how difficult all this was yesterday. He suggested that to get used to female heterosexuality I think about the positive aspects.

“Such as?” I said

“Well why not try imagining the soft folds of a beer belly rolling back and forwards across your stomach and breasts, squashing you beneath it as you gaze into a red, panting face above you?”. When I gave him a look he shrugged and said he was just describing what he'd seen.

“You really don't understand human sexuality at all, do you?” I'd said

“On an observational and theoretical level I know more than anyone alive,” he'd replied “but as to how it makes you feel, I'm very relieved to say I do not.” He smiled and settled back contentedly “I suppose that's one reason He indulges you so much. You're basically all crazy.”

So, rather than thinking of beer bellies when I cream myself (No, you know perfectly well what I mean) I'm trying to think of James, his smile, his kindness, his good sense. These are all things I like and admire and so is James himself. Massaging creams into my new parts definitely turns me on. What I don't know is whether the two go together – does James himself turn me on?

I really need to find out soon. James has invited me for drinks tonight. There's nothing unusual about that, the staff and volunteers here are a pretty sociable bunch and I've got to know them all fairly well. Tonight though I'm pretty sure, I'm almost certain....this is a date.

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Comments

Acceptance

At least she isn’t fighting what’s happened anymore

hugs :)
Michelle SidheElf Amaianna

Better suited

My5InchFMHeels's picture

I think someone that has ascended would be better suited as Annabelle's guide, or at least a helper for Clarence. He seems to be lacking in some general knowledge that could help her quite a bit.

And why in the world haven't they gone somewhere like Macy’s to learn makeup? That probably should have been one of the first stops, unless James ideal woman is someone that isn't familiar with femininity.

I believe that Clarence has

I believe that Clarence has been observing NASCAR drivers too much.


I'll get a life when it's proven and substantiated to be better than what I'm currently experiencing.