Going Pro

by Jennifer White

 

I left the tennis court shaking my head. I had lost yet another challenge match against my teammates. I wasn't going to play this week when Huntington College came to play us. I'd be watching from the sidelines. Again.

You had to win your challenge matches if you wanted a spot on the team as a starter. And I kept loosing. In fact, the coach had warned me a few weeks ago that if I didn't start showing some improvements, I might be in danger of being dropped from the tennis team altogether.

I found school to be just okay, but I lived for tennis. In highschool, I had been a star player. But everything was tougher in college! Now I was struggling to keep a spot on the team! I felt so upset and discouraged. I had hoped that after college, I could turn pro. But now it looked like that wasn't going to every happen. And so, my future wouldn't be anything like what I had dreamed of, all my life.

"I wish I could turn pro" I mumbled to myself, as I made the long walk from the athletic fields, over to the locker rooms in the gym, so I could shower up and change into clean dry clothes.

"That is a wish you've made many times before" said a woman's voice.

I turned to look. There on one of the benches sat a woman, but not quite my type. She looked a little older (I liked them young). She wore pants (I dug chicks in skirts!), had short hair (I loved long flowing hair). She looked more like a teacher at the school, or a parent, than a student. But what puzzled me was how she had heard me mutter my wish, and how she knew it wasn't the first time.

"Come, sit with me" she said, pointing to the spot next to her.

I had to admit: my curiosity got the best of me. I took a seat beside her, leaning my tennis racquet against the bench.

"Yes" she said. "I know you. I know everything about you. I've watched you from afar since you were but a child. I've shielded you from danger. But now you're almost a young man, and I will have to let you go off on your own. When you reach your birthday next week, I can no longer help you."

"Who are you?" I asked, but she ignored my question.

"There is a way to have what you want" she continued. "But things will not be exactly as you pictured. It is a funny thing, changing reality. It will have unforeseen impacts on your, and your future. But I know how desperate you are for this wish of yours. And so, I offer you your one and only chance, in all your lifetime, to have what you most desperately want."

"I don't understand" I said, confused.

"There, there child" she said reassuringly, as she reached down into her large purse, and pulled out a gold ring. It had a small white stone on it, which gave off different colors in the sunlight. An opal, I guessed. She handed the ring to me.

"What's this?" I asked.

"This ring possessed magic powers. If you put the ring on the pinkie on your left hand, your world will suddenly change. You will become someone else: a professional tennis player. But it is beyond my powers to know who you will become. You will be a top tour professional. Top ten, most likely. But the ring will pick who you will become."

"So if I put this on, I become what I've dreamed of?" I asked. "What's the catch?"

"Because it came from me, it will only work until your birthday. If you take it off, you will go back to being your current self. Or if you leave it on, you will become a pro tennis player. But whatever life you are in when the clock strikes twelve to begin your birthday, that is the life you will remain in forever."

 

Well, this was a no-brainer, if indeed this woman was on the level. I could have my wish. And if I didn't like how things went, I could go back to being myself. And I had a full week where I could go back and forth, to decide. I reached out for the ring.

"Good luck" said the woman, as she turned to stand up.

I looked down at the ring in my hand, then up to see her. But she had vanished, as if she had gone into thin air. I felt a shiver up and down my spine. Whatever she was, she *did* posses some sort of magic power. That meant this ring was *real*.

My hand was actually trembling, as I took the ring, and slipped it onto my finger....

 

* * *

 

... I looked up at the giant stadium court. It was full of fans, who were clapping. I was panting, out of breath. I saw the big scoreboard, which said that A. Ricci was leading G. Karpalov by a score of 6-2, 5-4. I didn't know either player. Which one was I?

I smiled. I was a professional tennis player, on stadium court, playing for the finals of a tournament! From the palm trees and style, I knew where I was: Key Biscane, Florida. I had seen this stadium on TV more times than I could count! Now here I was, playing for the title!

But then, something horrible happened: I looked down at myself.

I was expecting to see the tall, lean body of a professional tennis player. But what greeted my eyes was enough to make me feel sick to my stomach. I saw a pair of mounds on my chest. Breasts! On me! That was impossible!

And below, I wasn't wearing shorts: I had on a tight white tennis skirt! My tanned legs were smooth and glistening with sweat. Smooth and shaved! No! This couldn't be! Something was wrong. I was a tennis pro, but I was a *woman*!

The crowd cheered louder now, as I saw my opponent, a tall thin blonde girl go to one end of the court. She must be the Russian. So I must be A. Ricci, whoever that was. Ricci sounded Italian. That would explain my darker complexion.

"Time, Ms. Ricci" said the chair umpire.

Out of instinct, I sprung up from my seat, and took my place on court. I was in a daze. I was totally freaking out! But something funny happened: my new body seemed to know what to do, all by itself. A tennis pro is drilled over and over and over on how to hit the ball, so that they can do it without thinking.

And as play started, I suddenly found myself effortlessly hitting the ball in the way I had always dreamed off. The Russian girl fired a serve, wide to my right. With catlike reflexes, I moved with a speed I had never known, and jumped out to block it back deep to her forehand. I could never have hit that shot as myself! It would have been an ace!

And when she sent back a reply wide to my backhand, I ran it down, almost did the splits with my limber body, and hit a topspin drive back down the line, instead of crosscourt as she was expecting. She was already on the run, anticipating the safe play from me, so my shot landed in, and she couldn't get it. I had won the point!

I moved to the "ad" court to return the next serve. I was bouncing up and down, keeping my feet moving. It was quite alarming to feel my boobs bouncing up and down with me! And to feel my tennis skirt brushing against my legs. But I was running on instinct, and I returned her serve for a clean winner!

Two shots later, I had won the match. The crowd roared. I was just shell-shocked. I had just played, by far, the best four points of my entire life. I had won a championship tennis match! But I was in the body of a girl. My head was spinning. I didn't know why, but I started to cry.

"Nice going, Andrea" said the other girl, as she shook my hand.

"Nice match yourself" I said in response.

People were throwing flowers at me. People were cheering *me*. But I was a girl. I was in a daze, as I stood there, and listened to the speeches, before accepting the championship trophy. I couldn't believe I had just won a match like this! But why did I have to be a girl? Why couldn't I have been a man?

I decided that I had to take the ring off, and go back to being my old self. As much as I wanted to be a tennis pro, I didn't want to be a girl! I was walking into the locker room now. I decided though that I'd check things out, before I went back.

You see, the girls from the doubles final were just getting out of the showers, and getting dressed. I'd never have a chance to observe four athletic babes like this, in various stages of undress, in a women's locker room! It was exciting.

And they came over to me to congratulate me! One of them hugged me. Then she touched her cheek to mine, and made a kissing sound. Wow.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I was gorgeous! But I was a chick. I couldn't handle this! I was going to have to undress now, and take a shower. I couldn't handle seeing myself like that, nude with boobs hanging on my chest, and a pussy between my legs. Sadly, I reached down to my hand, and took off the ring....

 

* * *

 

... I looked up, and I was back on the bench, where I had just started from. I looked at my watch. Only a minute or so had passed, in all the time I had been Andrea. I was me again, and it felt *so* good to be a guy! I touched myself between my legs, to be sure. I felt my flat chest. Ah. Now *this* was me!

I stood up, feeling kind of in a daze still. So many thoughts went through my head! I had just been a girl, for about an hour or so. But I had also been a top tennis player. My dearest dream, and an awful nightmare, all at once. What was I going to do? I could have what I always wanted... but then I'd become a girl, which was unacceptable.

I looked up, and noticed Mike, the top player and team captain, walking towards me. He played first singles. I'd never be that good in *this* life. But as Andrea, I'd blow him off the court. What a strange situation I was stuck in!

"There you are" said Mike. "Listen. Coach says you really want to move up, so he asked me to take you under my wing a bit, and try to help you along."

"Thanks" I said. "That would be great."

"Listen" he said. "I was going to go hit a basket of balls to practice my serve. Why don't you come on the court with me, and you can practice your return. I'll give you some pointers if I see anything you can improve on."

"Cool" I said, following Mike over to the tennis courts.

He took the basket of tennis balls, and lined up on the deuce side, to start firing off some serves. I got on the other side, ready to return. He started off by firing a hard flat shot, right down the T in the middle of the court. He really smoked it!

Normally, such a serve would have left me standing there looking like a fool. But something strange happened: as soon as he hit it, my body was already moving. My feet moved with catlike quickness, and I was *waiting* for his serve to arrive. I smashed it back down the line for a clean winner.

"Good guess" he said.

Now Mike really concentrated, and blasted a serve out wide to my forehand. Again, I moved so quickly that I startled myself, and I easily reached his ball! I fired it cross court at an extreme angle for another clean winner.

There was no mistaking it: my time as Andrea had influenced me! I was moving like she did on the court, with the sharp eyes and quick reactions of a top player. Mike fired serve after serve. Yes, I made some unforced errors, and a couple of his serves aced me. But I was returning about 70% of them, and half of those for clean winners!

"Wow, I never realized you returned serves so well" said Mike, as we picked up the tennis balls from the court.

"Um, I've been working on it" I said.

"I can tell. I hope Coach sees you blast a few like that! You'll be on varsity in no time."

"Thanks" I said.

But I had noticed one thing, as we had neared the end of our practice round. I was starting to slow down. I wasn't sure if it was just my legs getting tired, or if my newfound skill was starting to slip away. When we had started practice, and my memories of how it felt to be Andrea were fresh in my mind, I had hit like her. But now, as the memories started to fade a bit, so had my hitting.

That night, I went down to the tennis courts, and turned the lights on. I took a bucket of balls to see how my serve was. I was disappointed: it was no better than it had ever been. Being Andrea had no effect on that, it seemed.

So I tried hitting some balls against the wall. Nothing. I hit like me. All of my new speed and agility was gone. I was back to being a below average player on my team. I felt kind of dejected.

You see, I just couldn't bear the thought of putting the ring on again, and becoming a girl. I couldn't be a girl! I couldn't take having a pussy between my legs! I didn't like feeling big boobs on my chest! I didn't want to be pretty! No. I couldn't do that again. I couldn't be a girl.

And that meant my good playing was over. Just for those few minutes, it had carried over. Now it was gone. I felt crushed. I went home, and fell asleep.

 

In my dreams, something strange happened. I saw *her*. The woman. And we had a conversation!

"So" she said, "how did it feel to win your first championship?"

"That felt wonderful!" I said. "It was all I had ever imagined. But why did I have to be Andrea? Why couldn't I have become a man on tour?"

"I told you, it wasn't in my power to choose who you would be. The ring chose for you. There must be a reason why it selected Andrea for you. There is something special about her that matches up with you."

"When I took the ring off, at first I played tennis like her. But then it slipped away from me" I complained.

"Yes" she said. "You *felt* it inside at first. You remembered what it was like to be her. But as you let yourself lose those feelings, you lost her skills too."

"How can I recapture that?" I said. "I mean, without putting the ring on to become her again? I don't mean to insult you, but I just can't let myself be a woman! I just freaked out when I discovered I was a chick. I mean, a girl."

"You need something to remind yourself of how it felt" she replied. "Go buy yourself a sportsbra, and wear that when you play. It will help you remember. But like it or not, you are going to need to wear the ring again, if you are to regain the skills of Andrea. You're going to have to spend more time as her."

I was so disappointed! The dream shifted, and I couldn't remember anything else. I felt into a deep sleep, and didn't wake up all night.

 

* * *

 

I was blushing, as I waited in the checkout line. I bought myself some guy things, and a pack of sportsbras too.

"For my girlfriend" I said, as the cashier rang them up. I hoped she bought that. I would hate to admit that they were for me! And worse yet; I was going to have to wear one at practice today. But first, I was going to have to become Andrea again.

My life seemed so dull! Boring school, work, gray drudgery. Or with just a little effort to put on a ring, I could become a top rated tennis player, going to exciting tournaments around the world! But then I'd have to be a girl, and that was just too much to take.

But then there was also the way I had played on court after practice, with Mike. If only I could do that every day! Maybe if I spent a little time here and there as Andrea, I could pick up her skills, but be able to stay myself. Yes, I'd have to wear a sportsbra, but if that was the price to be a top player, I could live with that. Right?

I took a deep breath, and slipped on the ring....

 

* * *

 

...I was panting. I was so exhausted! My legs were burning, with lactic acid, as I ran down a ball. I stretched for a backhand, and crushed it down the line.

"Good!" yelled out the coach. "Get some water, then we'll start working on your footwork for the serve and volley."

I went and sat down on a bench. I felt so weird! I was in a girl's body again. I had boobs. I was wearing a skirt. My smooth legs glistened with sweat. My long hair tickled the back of my neck. My hands were so tiny, as I held the water bottle! My fingernails were painted. It felt so awful to be in a girl's body! I could feel a sports bra wrapped around me, constraining me. I could feel the straps over my shoulders. It felt sickening.

But that shot I had just hit was beyond my wildest dreams. If it was the real me, I wouldn't have got a racquet on it, much less nailed it for a clean winner. Why couldn't I play like this, but be a guy? The coach interrupted my thinking, and called me out.

He showed me the drill. Hit a serve, run in, split step at the 'T' of the service line, then react to the return to hit a volley. The first serve I had made me gasp; it was so hard and so accurate!

"Don't stop! Run in!" he yelled. "Now do it again!"

I served again, and ran in, as he wanted. I did the split step with perfect footwork, then nailed a volley down into the corner.

"Good. Now do it again!"

Over and over I drilled, until the footwork was automatic. I was elated at the level I was playing at! If only I didn't have to be a girl to hit it like this. I stayed as Andrea, absorbing as much tennis knowledge as I could, until it was time to shower. I couldn't take that. I slipped off the ring, and...

 

* * *

 

...I looked at the package of sports bras on the table. I opened it up, and took one out. It looked so intimidating! I couldn't believe I was about to put on a bra. I took a deep breath, and pulled it on. It felt strange, yet familiar. I had just been wearing one, all practice, when I had been Andrea.

I put on the rest of my tennis outfit, and I went to tennis practice. Much to my delight, right off the bat, I was hitting with the skills of Andrea! My footwork was so good, my strokes clean and precise. In fact, half way through practice, the coach moved me up to play with a solid player against the top doubles team.

We had a good match, and I carried my partner to victory! They had trouble handling my serve, I hit put-away volley after volley, and by the end of practice, the coach told me he was promoting me up to first doubles on the varsity team!

"I don't know how I missed you before" he said. "But you're the kind of material we need on this team. I guess all your extra hitting with Mike really paid off. Congratulations. You're on varsity now."

I was elated! My dream was coming true. But was I prepared to pay the price to keep it going?

 

* * *

 

I found that my skills as Andrea would only last for so long when I was back in my own life. And so, much to my chagrin, I had to spend some time, almost every day, as *her*. It was an awful thing to have to do! I don't know if you can imagine how it felt to be living inside a female body!

And to keep my own mind in the right mindset for tennis, I had to wear a sportsbra. But after a few days, I was kind of getting used to it, and it wasn't enough anymore! The woman appeared in my dream again, and suggested that I might be better off if I bought a pair of panties to wear too. And so I had to go to a store, and buy panties. How humiliating! I made sure to pick a different store this time, so none of the girls in the "intimates" department might have suspicious of me.

I won my first two varsity matches, but one day at practice, I wasn't hitting as well. I knew what that meant. I would need to spend some more time as Andrea. I had an idea though. I said I needed to take a restroom break, and that I'd be back in a minute. I went to the men's room, and sat down on a stall.

Only about a minute of real time would go by when I was Andrea. So why not take advantage of that? I could sit down, put on the ring, be her, get my skills back, take the ring off, and return to practice, without anyone knowing any better! I took the ring, and slipped it on my finger....

 

* * *

 

....I looked at the menu in my hands. Menu? Why wasn't I at tennis practice? I looked up, and saw a young man sitting across the table from me. He was pretending to look at his own menu, but he was really trying to look down my V-neck, to get a glimpse of the breasts on my chest!

I moved my menu to block his view, and tried to get my head around my surroundings. We were at a fancy restaurant. I was sitting there, wearing a black dress! Looking down, I could see my own cleavage. I could see the way the hemline of my dress fell across my lap, above my knees. I could see the high heel shoes on my feet. sexy pumps.

I smelled of perfume and cosmetics. In the water glass, I could see a bit of my reflection. I had a lot of makeup on. I glanced up at the guy again, and suddenly I recognized him: it was Martin Gonzolez. A top player on the men's tour! They had the nickname "Gonzo" for him. It was said that all the girls went 'gonzo' for him too.

I felt him reach under the table, and take hold of my hand.

"I'm so glad we could finally have a tour stop together" he said.

"Yes" I replied, not knowing what else to say.

"Its also fortunate we found such a discrete place. If the press knew we were dating, it would be all over the headlines. They'll never know that we're sleeping together."

"And my coach would kill me if he found out" I said, trying to think of an excuse to end this. I was out on a date with a guy! That was bad enough, but what was worse was this feeling I had between my legs. I kind of tingled a bit down there. And I could feel something. I realized that I was getting wet!

I made an excuse that I needed to use the lady's room.

"Why don't you order for me?" I said, as I got up.

"You forgot your purse" he said, helpfully.

"Oh yes" I said, taking it in my hand.

 

I hurried to the lady's room, sat down in a stall, and took off the ring....

 

* * *

 

....I was panting, out of breath. I was sweating. What had just happened to me was nerve-wrecking for sure! I flushed, just in case anyone was in there with me, then washed my hands before returning to the court. With the feeling of being Andrea so fresh in my head (how could I not think about *that* experience?), I played great.

But there was one problem. After we were done hitting, I shook hands with my opponent. When he gave me a firm grip as we shook hands, I suddenly felt weak in my knees. I felt a tingle start between my legs. I felt myself starting to get hard. I was getting aroused! No!!!!

It wasn't just Andrea's tennis that was sticking with me! I was so horrified at the thought that I had also picked up her attraction to males, that my stomach turned. I swore that I was done with being her. I'd throw the ring into the river, and never consider being her again, even if it meant no more high level tennis for me. Nothing was worth *that*.

"Son, I'm impressed" said the Coach, as he walked up to me. "We have a big match tomorrow. I'm moving you to 2nd court singles. We really need a win here for positioning in the conference. I know I can count on you to come through for me."

"Thanks coach" I said.

Now I felt trapped. How could I let down the coach, and my team? I didn't like this one bit, but I was going to have to keep on with what I was doing. I couldn't give up on being Andrea, just yet.

 

* * *

 

I was *so* thankful that the next two times I wore the ring, I became Andrea during her practice sessions. Just in case, I never did it again while I was in the middle of my own practice, so I didn't land in the middle of another one of her dates! I played great, and I won two matches at 2nd singles, helping the team clinch the conference championship.

After the match, I went home and showered. I couldn't shower with the guys anymore, not when I was wearing a sportsbra and panties under my tennis clothes! I started the shower running, and looked at my face to see if I needed to shave too. No. My skin was still smooth.

As I started to shower though, I started to think back. When *was* the last time I had shaved? A few days? A week? I couldn't be sure. That seemed odd. Had my facial hair stopped growing? I froze, thinking of the implication. I inspected my body, looking for other changes. Did my nipples seem a little larger? I couldn't tell for sure. Maybe my chest hair was thinner? I hadn't really looked at it like this, so I couldn't tell.

I looked down at my hairy legs, and my stomach felt queasy. I didn't like the look of all that hair. I should shave my legs, and get rid of all that.

No! Wait, that was an 'Andrea' thought, not one of mine! I was disgusted. How could I have even thought of shaving my legs? No way was I going to do that! I got out of the shower, dried off, and turned to studying, to get my mind off this tennis thing!

 

* * *

 

The conference tournament was tomorrow. Coach had told me that he was putting me in at first singles, and move Mike to court 2. That way, Mike would win for sure. And if I could come through, it would be a huge bonus for the team. I felt like the whole fate of the team rested on my shoulders now. And so, after I dressed for the match, I got ready to put on the ring, so I'd be sure to be hitting my best.

I reached down, and put it on....

 

* * *

 

....and I moaned with pleasure, as Martin thrust himself deep into my wet pussy. He was holding me down by the wrists and kissing me. He thrust deep into me again, and again, and all I could do was to moan with pleasure.

"Tell me how big I am" he demanded. "Tell me what a man I am."

"You're so big!!!" I enthused. "You're such a man!"

I needed to get the ring off, now! But he was holding my wrists. I couldn't get him off of me! I couldn't get the ring off! I could only lay on my back, with my legs spread, as he pushed up into me, again and again. Again and again. He was kissing me all over, and my body writhed in pleasure.

I screamed as a huge wave of orgasmic pleasure washed over me and through me. I felt a warm splash inside me as he came, and it started oozing out of me right away.

"Oh Martin" I said, as him let go my hand, and caressed my breast. I was too overloaded with pleasure to take the ring off now, even though he had let go my hand. I put my arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply. I felt so *good*.

Finally, I caught myself, as he pulled himself out of me. I took off the ring and....

 

* * *

 

....I got up quickly to run to the courts. I couldn't even think of what I had just done! I had been Andrea, and I had been making love with a man. I had felt a female orgasm! I had been kissed, and I had kissed back. You can't imagine how it felt as a man, to have to experience all that!

I got to the courts, and saw Mike there, warming up with another player. I looked at his muscular body, his strong hairy legs, and I felt something inside me. I *wanted* him. I wanted to be with him, as I had been with Martin. My stomach turned. How could I feel *that*? No!!!!

I avoided Mike before the match, hitting with someone else instead. I was on fire, hitting perfect stroke after perfect stroke. But I couldn't help thinking about the new desire that had been planted in my head. I tried not to think about it, as I destroyed my opponent, 6-1, 6-0. I took out my inner anger on the ball, and I just killed him.

Our team won the match, and now we would go on to the regional playoffs, against the conference champs from our district. I was living my dream, and a nightmare, all at the same time.

 

* * *

 

We had a practice the day before the regionals. I was hitting pretty good, even though I hadn't been Andrea for several days. At one point, a ball rolled onto my court from the next one, so I tossed it back.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you throw like a girl?" said the guy.

I froze, blushing bright red. Another one of Andrea's traits had worked its way into me, without my realizing it. What else was I doing subconsciously now, based on *her*? It wasn't just her tennis skills; more and more of her was starting to filter down into me!

I was in a daze as I went home and showered. I felt so dirty with all that leg hair, that I just *had* to get rid of it! I was so disgusted with it on my legs. I shaved my armpits too, before I realized what was going on. I caught myself, as I stood there hairless in the shower.

How was I going to explain this to the coach and the guys? I had an idea: swimmers shaved so they would go through the water better. If anyone said anything, I'd tell them I was swimming to keep in shape, and that was why I shaved.

But when I put on my T-shirt, I had another major crisis. I was looking at myself in the mirror, and I could see something that frightened and disgusted me: the clear outline of large nipples showing through my shirt! I had a definite swelling on my chest now that I hadn't noticed. I took my shirt off to stare at my little tiny boobs.

I hadn't shaved my chest hair. Why was my chest smooth too? It must have all fallen off over the past few days, and I hadn't even noticed! And my facial hair wasn't growing anymore. Now I was starting to get boobs. It was at that moment that I realized the terrible truth: I wasn't just starting to do things like Andrea, I was starting to *become* like Andrea.

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I was becoming a girl.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and something inside me told me that I should be wearing makeup. I wanted to see my hair looking pretty. I would look cute in a skirt. Why didn't I have any good shoes? I should be in heels. I needed to go shopping, and buy myself some cute things.

I touched my face, as I realized that more and more of my thoughts were becoming female too, and that I couldn't even tell the difference anymore! A given thought could be male or female; it was just a part of me. How long had this been going on? I might not even notice when I lose myself, and become completely female.

"I'll need tampons then" I thought. "And I had better go on the pill, so I don't get pregnant."

I started to make a mental checklist in my head of all the things I'd need once I became female. I imagined the exciting and pretty clothes I'd wear! I'd go shopping, and buy myself some beautiful lingerie. And some tennis skirts. I wanted to see myself in a tennis skirt, so I could show off my smooth long legs.

I caught myself again, realizing that if I didn't do something soon, I might just end up at tennis practice, wearing a skirt, and not even think anything of it! I needed to take action right away, or it would all be over.

As I looked forward, I saw two paths for me. I could continue on with my life, and feel helpless as I transformed into a girl. My life would be ruined. Everyone would make fun of me for becoming a chick! And then my dream would be over; I could never play on the men's tour, if I was a girl. And having once been male, I would be disqualified from the lady's tour.

Or I could put on the ring, and never take it off. I could step into Andrea's life forever, becoming her, and spending the rest of my life as a pro tennis player.

Either option I chose would result in me becoming a female forever. But one would be fun and exciting, while the other one would be filled with shame and fear. No, there was really only one choice I could make. Rather than facing the horror of being transformed bit by bit into a female, I would spend the rest of my life as Andrea.

I took the ring, and stared at it. When I first got it, I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. But in a way, it had ruined my life. It had given me the powers I had always wanted on the tennis court. But it had also been the thing that started turning me into a woman.

I took a deep breath, and prepared to put it onto my finger for one last time. As I started to slip it on, I swore an oath:

"I will never take this ring...."

 

* * *

 

"....off my finger" I said, completing my sentence in Andrea's voice.

I looked up at Martin, who was standing there, holding my hand. He was wearing a tuxedo, looking very handsome. He put his hand gently on my cheek.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife" said another man, who was standing to my side. I glanced over, and saw that he was a minister!

"You may kiss the bride" he said to Martin, who nodded back.

Martin leaned over, and gave me a big kiss. My body melted into his.

There was a thunderous applause, and I looked up. We were standing on the altar, in front of what must have been five hundred people. Right away, I recognized at least a dozen professional tennis players, from both the men's and women's tour. Martin's arm was around me. I had just married him!

The pipe organ started to play loudly, and we marched down the aisle, leaving the church. Not only was I a woman now, but I was a *married* woman. I was a bride! I had on this wedding dress with a train that stretched at least ten feet behind me! I was all decked out, and I held a bouquet of a dozen white roses in my hands.

As we walked out of the church, I felt so scared. I was going to live my life out as a woman. And now that I was married, that meant I'd have no time to adjust. As soon as our party was over, Martin would want to consummate the wedding. I was going to have to spread my legs for him.

The thought of him coming inside me made me feel weak in the knees, and made me start to get wet again. My body was completely female now, and so all my physical reactions were female reactions.

"I can't wait for tonight" he whispered in my ear. "I'm going to f*ck you so hard, all night long."

"You're getting me all wet" I whispered back, giving him a pat on the rear.

He laughed, as we piled into the limo. One of my bridesmaids removed my train so I could get in the car. Martin put his arm around me as we sped off to the party to celebrate our marriage. I was a woman now, and I would be a woman forever. I would live out my dream of being a pro tennis player, but I'd do it wearing little white skirts, looking pretty, and winning the *woman's* trophy at the tournaments I played in.

 

* * *

 

Epilog:

It is hard to believe I ever was a man. After a year of having become Andrea, I had all but forgotten about my old life. I won my share of championships, but when I started to reach my late twenties, I started to have strong female urges to begin having children.

I retired from the pro tour, so I could start my family with Martin. We have three now, two girls and one boy. Of course, we teach them all tennis, but we don't push them if they're not interested. They are the love of my life, and they are the most important thing in the world to me!

My babies brought me such sheer joy and happiness, that I can't begin to tell you what a wonder they are! They made me glad that I am a woman, because I could never have felt all this as a man. I wonder sometimes what happened to my old self, once he become fully female. When I teach a new woman player at the tennis club, I always wonder in the back of my head: is she the one I used to be?

  

  

  

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