Lorna Samuels's The Landlady

Disclaimer - The following work was originally published in the mid-1980's by Empathy Press (Seattle) in their series "Guys in Gowns" #77 & 78. It is the exclusive property of the author and Empathy Press, by whose permission it has been electronically reproduced for dissemination to certain Internet web masters for presentation on their sites. Any reproduction or redistribution without express written (or e-mailed) consent is strictly prohibited. All Rights Reserved.

What happened to me at the ripe old age of thirty-six could probably redefine the term "mid-life crisis". How about 'mid-thirties disaster' instead! Well, it may not have been that bad, since the result has been most pleasant indeed, but at the time, it seemed like the end of the world, as I knew it. Within only a few short weeks, my carefully structured life disintegrated like a tomato in a blender!

It started when the well-established architectural firm, where I'd been a lead draftsman for twelve years, decided that they needed the 'expertise' of advanced education. Thus, the "powers that be" summarily terminated (with severance pay, of course) all "non-degreed" workers. I was the only exception; but that's not as good as it might sound. Having tenure, I was 'allowed' to stay and break in the new 'degrees', but that was temporary! So, with my job going down the toilet, I somewhat underhandedly worked out a deal with my boss, Brian Ecklers (we'd been golfing buddies for several six years). He promised to retain me part-time for up to a year with the provision that I complete my studies and get the architectural degree that I'd suspended work on so long ago. That done, he guaranteed that I'd get back my old job when I was 'degreed'. It wasn't much, but it was all I could wangle, so I was feeling fairly pleased with myself.

Until things got much worse. My old 'friend', LORA, began demanding attention after many years of silence, and my wife, Janice, was abruptly introduced to 'her', which precipitating yet another phase of my "mid-thirties disaster", divorce!

Of course, divorces are certainly common enough events in today's social climate, and I've never denied my own responsibility for ours, but when I personally became one of the parties involved, ... well, let's just say the upheaval in my life was drastic, to say the least.

Suddenly, at 36, after years of marriage, I was on my own. Alone! Given the reasons, I knew all too well that I'd have to deal with my situation as best I could. But I certainly didn't have to like it. In fact, I hated it.

The first problem was where to live. Here, for a change, Lady Luck dealt me a fair hand when I found an old two-story colonial almost exactly where I needed it, smack between office and campus. When I spotted the APARTMENT FOR RENT sign in the window, my feet hit the ground almost before I'd pulled up to the curb.

My eager knuckles raped on the heavy oak door, and within seconds, a lady whom I recognized immediately opened it. In a town the size of ours, there are always a good many well-known 'locals'. Some are leaders like politicians and college deans, while others of various types and reputations fall more under the 'characters' heading which includes. The lady who answered my knock was one of the best examples of the latter category.

Her full name is Aletia Judith Covington Galpin, but everyone just calls her "Lea" or "Aunt Lea". Although she was raised as a Christian and wasn't much older than me, she thoroughly enjoyed the fact that her prematurely white hair and short plump stature fit the stereotypical image of a Jewish matron of rather advanced years. And she 'played' her image with consummate skill, crafting an impressive "Mother Teresa" reputation that was often the fodder for various printed articles, and even resulted in her being honored twice as the community's "Humanitarian of the Year". She had more friends " than Carter's got liver piIIs". But she wasn't a 'busy body' or gossip, which made her extremely popular, and often in demand as a confidant and 'sidewalk psychologist'. With her ever-present smile and obvious zest for life, Aunt Lea was purely and simply everybody's friend.

"Why, of course.., you're Lawrence Rossman and your wife is ..oh, sorry!.. was Janice Hayden. My eldest niece was her best friend in high school, ya know?"

"Sure ... uh, I mean no, not at all." I nodded toward the sign. "I stopped to ask about that."

"Oh dear me, of course. Please excuse my manners, Larry." She gave me a worried look and knitted her brow. "If you'd like to have a look, come along and I'll show you. It's right upstairs."

The expansive apartment occupied the entire upper floor, and was fully self contained. It was completely furnished, with two-bedrooms, a full bath, a small sitting/living room, and complete kitchen. I was thoroughly surprised when she offered me a one-year lease for about half what I expected to pay for much less space. Vacancies anywhere near campus were scarce as hen's teeth during the school year, and even MORE rarely were they reasonable!

"Excellent," Lea grinned. "I'm so glad. Now, let's go back downstairs and I'll find those pesky lease agreements, then we'll have a lovely cup of tea and close our little deal."

Being a heavy coffee drinker, I didn't care much for tea, no kick to it! But Lea was so pleasant, and she'd given me such an exceptionally good deal on the apartment, ...well, it would have been rude to reject her invitation.

Moments later, over freshly brewed tea in her large kitchen, I found myself relating for her a short and heavily edited version of my life's story. Lea was attentive, interested, and particularly sympathetic when I got to the part about my job. Jeez, did I need that!

Eventually, I left to move my meager belongings from the garage where Janice had dumped them after kicking me out.

Hindsight being what it is, and considering events since, I am absolutely convinced that, somehow, I was thoroughly set up that afternoon; somehow drawn with forethought and purposeful design to Aunt Lea's grand old home. Yet, even now, I cannot figure out how it was done. Unless, of course, Lea's "talent" was involved.

Anyway, I had a place, and that was half the battle. The other half was rearranging my life and getting on with it.

Finances caused me the most misery. My income had been cut drastically, but still had to cover living and school expenses, car payments, etc. Here again luck (or mismanagement) helped since my shrunken paychecks were not further strained by alimony. Fortunately, Janice, was a very well paid legal secretary, and made even more than I did working full time! And there was no child support. No kids! The house was the only problem that complicated our otherwise 'friendly' divorce, but that too was quickly solved when Janice agreed to take it AND its hefty mortgage in our out-of-court settlement.

The weeks that followed were hectic. I survived the trauma of the divorce proceedings by keeping busy, moving into and getting arranging the apartment to my satisfaction, putting in long hours at work with the new "degrees", and getting settled into being a student again after so many years. I struggled along valiantly, juggling work and studies until a moderately stable routine developed.

Being so preoccupied kept my mind off the basic reason for my present circumstances, though that was not to last for long. LORA was always in the back of my mind. Then, with my life approaching a more manageable level, and the press of loneliness closed in, my 'friend' once again occupied my thoughts. From there, it was all too easy to channel my solitude and frustrations into "Lora sessions".

Soon afterward, Lora took up residence in the second bedroom. Yes, that's right, we are (or were) the same person, yet not really that either. Oh, it's so hard to explain! Besides, others have put it into words far better than I ever could. To put it bluntly, I was a transvestite and LORA was my alter ego, my female self. There are all kinds of fancy ways to explain why 'she' existed -- why I got such an emotional charge when wearing women's clothes. But when you really break it down to the hard cold facts, yours truly had decided that it'd be more fun to be female than male. Thus, I "cross dressed", as some clinicians would put it.

In the singular privacy my own own rooms, Lora filled a huge emotional void. Experimenting with her 'incarnations', I could pretend that I was a beautiful woman with a multitude of admirers, both male and female. Lora, at least in my imagination, was NEVER lonely! She was always there to keep me company, and I was always there for her. This may seem crazy to some, but those like me will understand all too well. Essentially, she was the escape mechanism through which I dealt with my perceived failures, whether real or imaginary, as a husband, lover, and man.

Long before the divorce I made contact with and joined a small local "support group" through a contact magazine that specialized in those sorts of 'needs'. It was among these 'associates' that I began to cultivate a more extensive sense of my relationship with Lora, and to realize that I'd rather be her than myself. The group met twice a month, with about two dozen regular attendees, but no membership per se. Just an incredibly varied bunch of guys (and a couple of gals) who constantly encouraged each other to improve, and provided a wonderful support system within the ranks. I was soon taken up in their enthusiastic, and even found myself helping plan a Costume Ball, at which all group members would attend 'en femme', even those like myself who never even dressed for our weekly meetings (which was almost everybody).

That's when my long relationship with Lora and our mirror hit a major snag. I wanted very much to attend The Ball, but to accomplish any sort of decent 'presentation', I needed to make some radical improvements in Lora's appearance. Actually, I figured I'd have to shed a healthy amount of excess tonnage in the few months before the Ball if Lora was to be even minimally presentable!

To date, all my dressing was conducted in the apartment under the same totally isolated secrecy as I'd practiced before the divorce, at least until Janice caught me. The difference was that no one was likely to barge in on me, regardless of the time of day or night, as had Janice. Besides fearing further discovery, I never believed, nor could anyone convince me, that I could 'pass'; not even if everyone in the world was half blind and deaf. In a word, I was a horror in drag! A classically grotesque caricature: a friggin' drag queen! And an ugly one, too! ARGH! Genetics, hormones, age, and a lousy diet over the years had cruelly conspired against my fervent attempts at becoming the gorgeous woman I wanted so desperately to see in the mirror. At 5'"" and 240', I was obese, barrel chested, and straight hipped, with large 10ww feet. Oh, what a grizzly hairy glob to encase in a delicious full slip! Yuck'!

One lonely evening, staring at Lora's unpleasant image in the mirror, I declared to her, "We've gotta do somethin' about getting into shape."

"Losing weight would sure be a step in the right direction," answered her sweet soprano in my head. Her voice was almost real, and I knew enough psychology to realize I'd gotten a little TOO lonely and preoccupied. Though that still didn't lessen the pleasure of the moment. I know this seems schitzo, but even if the conversation had been between two real people, it would still have gone basically as I ours' did.

"Yeah," I replied tentatively, "Larry Rossman is probably a real good example of the fact that sexual frustration is oft-times reflected in one's dietary habits! I've sure overindulged lately, and shedding some of this extra baggage would be healthy too."

"Okay, so if you're not ready for a sex change, an intensive diet plan would be a good start."

"Fine. Yeah, sure' But which one? There must be a thousand different ways to lose weight and twice that many people out there trying to tell you which is the best!"

"Why not ask a couple of the better 'dressers' in the Group how they do it? Some of them are real pretty. With a little advice and lots of hard work, you could maybe do the same."

"Yeah, maybe, but they started a lot earlier and the best are much younger. A couple are even pre-ops! I don't wanna be femme as much as...."

.."Look! You want me to be better looking, or at least presentable, don't you? Even if we never leave this apartment?"

"So check an the diet idea for starters and we'll go from there. To provide some incentive, we could have a Group meeting here, say a few weeks before the big bash. I could even be the hostess! That way we can get some real-life help, and avoid the public outing you're so scared of."

"But that'd mean they'd all hafta come here!" I skipped over the diet idea like it never existed as an icy chill caressed my spine. "Most of those guys attend meetings in various degrees of attire ranging from full regalia down to just pantyhose under their regular male duds, like I usually do. If any of the regular dressers were 'read' I'd just die! And you know how scrupulously I avoid any public connection with such folk."

"Humph! I know all too well how paranoid you, but that's easily handled. Just ask them to bring their femme clothes and change here. There's plenty of room. Hey, ya know, that's not such a bad idea! You could call it a 'Help Your Buddy Dress-Up Social'. And it'll be my big 'coming out', too! Well, whatdaya say? Shall we start making party plans? And maybe boost your motivation to shed that excess tonnage of yours too."

Stunned at the ease with which my heartiest objections were brushed aside, I gave 'her' a qualified answer. "Well, I'll do it ... uh, the diet part, that is. It's long overdue anyway. And IF I can make good progress, then I'll consider the party idea."

So, with the decision made, I plunged into the often contradictory and overwhelmingly confusing world of nutrition with a fervor that surprised even me. Working it in around school and the office, I logged long hours in libraries and bookstores, plodding through reams of material on every diet from "A-vitamins" to "Weight Watchers". But it wasn't long until it became obvious that I'd be far better off seeking help rather than use trial and error to find a program that would work for me.

Considering that Lora was my main reason for wanting to lose weight, The Group was an obvious source of information. When I asked for their input and explained my reason (omitting the party idea for the moment), they were all very enthusiastic. Some who had similar problems even appeared to take my lead.

Over the next few weeks, The Group seemed to polarize into "dieters" and "diet helpers", the latter being mostly the more passable members. Unfortunately, at least for me, their suggestions were little or no help at all.

It was during this period of "diet research" that my landlady, Mrs. Galpin, that is, Aunt Lea, became a very large and important part of my life.

I loved the apartment and its spacious rooms, especially the second bedroom where Lora so quickly took up residence. But I had some initial concerns about privacy. Paranoid as I was about Lora, I dreaded the prospect of Lea interrupting my 'sessions', or even seeing my meager stash of Lora's clothes in the spare room's closet and dresser. To my great relief, my worries were totally unfounded. The main entrance to my flat was in the rear, and the front stairway through Lea's 'territory' stayed locked most of the time, with the dead bolt was on my side of the door. Besides, after that first day, I rarely ever saw Lea except when paying the rent on the first of each month.

As the days passed, I began to hear about folks whom Lea had helped in one way or another, mostly by her simply being there. The general consensus was that she was a "harmless ol' gal" who, like most 'widows' of her advanced years (??), wanted and enjoyed people's company and helped any way she could.

And I wondered, could she help me? My need was simple enough - I wanted to shed some weight (ignoring my primary motivation, of course). Maybe she had some counsel that'd help me with of the massive amount of information I had gleaned from other sources? Even after days, I hadn't decided what method would be easiest and fastest, and Aunt Lea was the only person I knew well enough to ask, aside from the already overly helpful fellas in The Group.

"Will you stop with the 'Ma'am' stuff already!" she smiled. "I'd much prefer 'Aunt Lea', or just 'Lea'. In fact, now that I think of it, I'm not that much older than you are anyway. Make it 'Lea', okay? Why don't you come in for a spot of tea and we'll get better acquainted."

Up to now she had done all the talking and seemed intent on continuing to do so. "No, Mrs. .... uh, Lea, thanks.., I don't want to impose. It's just that..."

"Oh, it's no imposition at all. No, no, not in the least. Please do come in. We'll have a nice cup of hot tea and visit for a spell."

The thought of tea again made me wince, but I had come that far and was determined to see it through to the end, bitter tea and all!

This time, instead of the kitchen, I was ushered into what could only be called a parlor, though I never knew there was such a thing anymore. The room reeked of old-style 'Victorian' with its hand-woven rug, high-back chairs and divan, low hardwood coffee and end tables, and antique tasseled lamps. I had the distinct impression I'd walked into a 19th Century English manor house. The place was a museum setting, dominated by the huge stone fireplace with a marble mantel that held faded ancestral portraits in gilt frames. On the wall above hung a large oil painting of a beautiful young woman in a blue-black brocade gown straight out of the 17^th-or-18^th Centuries.

Dumbstruck by the dated decor, I sat uneasily an the heavy high backed couch until my hostess returned with a wheeled cart upon which was the most extravagant silver tea service I'd ever seen outside the display windows at Macy's.

I slumped back into my seat. This woman was having me in for tea whether I liked it or not. Well, what the heck! I took the proffered saucer and cup, to which had been added two small tortes and a cookie that looked like a ginger snap with coconut on it.

Mrs. Gal .... Lea settled into a large chair facing me, saucer in hand. "Now that we're all comfy, what brings you visiting?"

After several sips of the pungent aromatic brew, I fumbled for words. "Well…ya see…I've been thinking about trying to loose some excess pounds and have been doing some research on diets. There's such a mess of contradictory stuff out there, that I thought… well, maybe you'd have some suggestion?"

One thin eyebrow arched questioningly. "That's a strange reason to come calling, Larry.... may I call you Larry? Good. So, what's this about a diet? You're an architect, aren't you? What has that to do with diets? You don't need it yourself."

"Thanks for saying so ... uh, but my doctor thinks otherwise." (Well, what do you expect? I had to explain my interest somehow!) "Trouble is, he's been awfully ambiguous about how I can shed the pounds, and there are so many fads making the rounds! I thought maybe you'd have a suggestion or two."

She stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm, by a fortunate coincidence, the person who preceded you upstairs had somewhat the same problem. She was a fanatic about her weight; always grumbling about having to diet all the time. I'm happy to say I did help her, but I'm not too sure, Larry, that you'd be as successful using the same system."

My eyes lit up with interest. "But I'd rather get your personal help than shell out umpteen bucks that I can't afford for something that may or may not work! If you can guarantee results, I'm game."

She stared at me for a moment. "Hmmm..., it would be interesting to see if you respond as well as she did, but there are a few things I'd have to work out first. And it takes a commitment you may not be willing to make."

"Whatever it is, I'll do it! What'll you charge me for your system?" I prodded nervously. "I can't afford much."

"Mercy me, Larry, you won't need to pay me a dime!" That, of course, made it all the better! "But its unique approach involves some complex preparations that I'll need some time to work out."

"Well, let's see." She paused to stare at her fingertip as it circled the rim of her teacup for several revolutions. "Maybe we could get you started within a couple of weeks."

"Just a moment, Larry, not so fast!" Her tone was suddenly stern. "Don't be too hasty. Relax and finish your tea. I want so much to know you better, and after all, you're living in my house." She cut off my protest. "Would it be so hard to sit and visit for a bit before we discuss your weight problem further? Of course not," she answered for me.

Settling back with her tea, she spent the next hour expertly probing me about work, school, my marriage and divorce, and professional and personal goals.

Resigned to the inevitable, I carefully repeated an edited version of my life, with very little additional detail. I tried to let her know in no uncertain terms that it was a sensitive issue, and she seemed happy that I revealed what I did. However, as the minutes passed, I found myself almost willing to reveal to her the most secret and embarrassing segments of my life. Somehow, I thought she'd understand, but I resisted the urge. Instead, I waded through a fabrication about chest pains and a doctor's demand that I lose weight, all to justify my asking for her advice.

"...and that's why I came to you, Lea. You've quite a reputation for helping people, so I figured it couldn't hurt to ask for your input,"

"It must be very difficult to return to school after so long," she mused, pulling the thread of our conversation along an alternate route. "And to lose your wife's affection and support, too. Tsk, tsk! I'm so sorry she failed you, Larry. A man in your situation needs a good caring woman to look after him.

"Yea, I suppose so. But I've been doin' pretty well. I'm certainly not helpless. Besides, my schedule is so hectic it would have been impossible to give her the time and attention she needed." (Another total fabrication, true, but it beat the truth!) "Janice was too almighty self-righteous for me anyway," I added testily. "In a way it's almost funny too, since now I'm much more relaxed without her constant haranguing. I'll certainly grant it's nice to have a wife about to do the cooking and cleaning, but if that's all I need, a maid could serve the same purpose, and maybe do it better."

Lea smiled. "What about sex? That's not usually listed among a maid's duties, and you're a healthy enough man, to be sure."

Her frank question and comment startled me. "W...W...Well, .uh..., I can do without if I have to. I haven't got time for amorous adventures right now anyway. And besides, I'm too shy to proposition anyone, and dating would take time I need for work and studies. I want my degree far more at the moment than I do sex."

"But, according to medical science, if I don't shed some weight, ... well, that degree won't be much use if I keel over with a heart attack the day after I get it."

Aunt Lea began to clear away the remains of our tea. "It seems to me, Larry, that you have your priorities well in hand. A rather uncommon trait for a man in your situation, I must say. Most fellows would be out carousing, bar hopping, and terrorizing every skirt within miles." She piled dishes onto the heavy silver tray.

"You're very kind, but there's no need. I'll just be a moment." She pushed the cart toward the door, and was back before I could slip quietly away. "Oh, didn't you want to discuss our preparations?"

"Huh?" I blushed with embarrassment at my attempt to duck out and being caught at it. "Oh.., uh.. maybe I oughta just try some Dexatrim. I don't wanna put you to a lotta inconvenience."

"My dear Larry, it's no trouble whatever. You must realize, as Andrea did, that I'm always happy to help if I can."

"Oh." I wasn't too sure that Aunt Lea's help was what I needed or wanted, but I'd come this far. Why not find out what she could tell me about their success. "Was she the one you helped?"

"Yes indeed. She asked me about a diet, just as you have, so I did some research of my own and Andy agreed to try the program which I devised."

"Huh? Oh, Andrea, of course. I called her 'Andy', ..we were very close," she mused. "Anyway, by the time she left to be married, she had developed into a lovely lithesome young lady. This is her wedding picture." Lea took a gilt-framed portrait from the small table nearby and held it up.

The bride in the picture was gorgeous in her white lace gown. Long thick waves of golden blond hair tumbled over her pale shoulders. A silver chain hung from her slim throat and the tiny locket sat at the top of a generous cleavage formed by the bodice's efforts to contain her lovely, full bosum. Her face radiated sweetness and beauty. What a luscious woman!

Pulling my enraptured gaze back to my hostess with an effort, I swallowed my heart and said, "I gather Andrea was pleased with the results?"

"Oh, quite pleased, I assure you." With a strange sidelong glance at me she added sweetly, "I so love to make people happy. Andy's such a lovely young lady, don't you think?" she prompted, returning the picture to the table.

"Unfortunately, we neglected to take a 'before' picture, but she certainly would never have been able to wear that gown at the time, I assure you. Andrea was neither attractive nor thin. In fact, I'm sorry to say that if you'd seen her then the term 'dog' might have fit Andy's appearance all too appropriately. However, as you can see, the results were quite remarkable."

I glanced at the portrait once more and sensed poor Lora turning green with envy. The thought flitted through my mind that that female body was exactly the image I'd love to see in my own mirror.

When I looked up, Lea was staring at me, a thin brow raised questioningly. "S..So..," I stammered, "what can you tell me about this diet of yours?"

"Well, there's a considerable amount of preparation required..uhmmm.., and some rather obscure potions ... uh, I mean portions of the formula that I'll need to procure for the.."

My levity was lost on her. Instead, she froze and glared at me for an instant. "I'm hardly a witch, Mr. Rossman," she rebuked me sharply. Then her tone changed and she smiled as my intent registered. "..heehee.., yes, I guess you'd get that impression, and I'll admit that it's no simple matter to prepare my special compote, especially since it can and will be formulated specifically for your personal needs. And YOU'LL be especially pleased with the results, Larry, I guarantee it."

"How can you do that? Even doctors use some basic strategy to build from when designing a program for their patients."

Lea waggled a long thin finger at me. "Tsk tsk, now! No asking for my secrets, and I wouldn't tell anyway. Now, are you really serious about this, and do you really want my help?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, ..sure... I.. have to start somewhere. Besides, if it doesn't work, there are a hundred others."

"But none that give you such personalized attention; nor are any of them free. Right?" I nodded. "And I truly believe that, with the proper commitment, you'll get incredible results." She was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"It's my pleasure, Larry. What are friends for if not to help each other? Uh.., however, in order to achieve the best results, I will require that you do a couple of things for me."

Somewhat hesitantly, she replied, "First, you'll have to do exactly as I say, no questions asked, no objections, and no hesitation. Your commitment must be total and your trust in me absolute."

"No. You must also arrange your affairs so that you can remain here for at least one month, since during a period of about four weeks you will not be able to leave the house. In effect, you'll be under quarantine. No visitors either." Her expression was so serious I had to believe she meant it.

"That's a bit bizarre, don't you think? I've never heard of a diet that laid you up for ANY amount of time, much less a month!"

"Nonetheless, it's necessary for several reasons which I'll not discuss beforehand. Can you make the proper arrangements?"

I did some hurried schedule juggling in my head. Getting time off from work was only a minor problem since I'd practically worked myself out of a job already anyhow, though losing a month's pay was an unpleasant prospect. The current school term, and the last of my academic classes (thank God!), would be over soon, with the 'research' term next and my Senior Thesis due at its end. Then graduation!

Finally, I responded, "Yeah, I can get the time off work easily enough, and the term will be over soon. After that, I'll need lots of time to work on my final project anyway. In fact, that'll be ideal. Yeah!"

As the prospect of all that free time and what I could accomplish with it grew clearer, I began to get excited. I was so close to finishing my project, anyway! Everything I needed was there in my rooms just waiting to be organized and written up. Yes, indeed, that month of solitude would be just about perfect for finishing my work and polishing it into something special.

"Very well, Larry." Lea's faint smile turned to grim concern. "But I must remind you, this treatment of mine is extremely potent, so much so that you'll be laid up in bed for a good portion of that month. In fact, Andy slept a good deal of the time, and said it was like having a bad case of flu for an eternity...!"

That wasn't a very pleasant thought, nor did it sound like a very conventional diet, not by a long shot. I could probably set up my computer by the bed and manage well enough, but... "Uh .... I'm really beginning to wonder if maybe something like Dexatrim might be the safer course after all. It'd sure be a lot less trouble than spending a month in bed."

She fixed me with a withering stare. "Larry, do you really truly want to lose those pounds?"

"Then you must accept my help on my conditions. I guarantee you'll be just as satisfied with the results as was Andy! I'm so sure of success, Larry, that I'll give you that month rent free, and I'll personally provide all your meals, along with whatever else you might need while you're sequestered in your rooms. That way you'll have no money worries due to the lost time from work, and I'll be able to more closely monitor your progress." She paused, watching me intently. When I showed no sign of reaching a decision, she prompted," Well, what's your decision?"

I'd heard of Lea's legendary generosity, of course, but... "I'm very grateful for your offer, Lea, but why would you want to go to such lengths for me? After all, we hardly know one another." The whole situation seemed beyond my control. Getting down to a reasonable 'Lora weight' was extremely appealing, but then again...

Lea's laugh wrinkles deepened. "You want to do this, don't you? Certainly, it sounds odd, and maybe it is, a little. But is it any stranger than living on seaweed or wheat germ or checking into some high-priced 'spa.' and getting nothing for it except an empty bank account?" Her voice turned soft. "Under any of those supposedly successful programs it would take several months for you to lose fifty pounds, if it worked at all. I'm offering you results in weeks instead of months, and it won't cost you a dime!"

"I'm sorry for sounding negative," I replied sheepishly, "but those established systems have proof that what they offer works." Here I knew I must tread carefully. "I like you, Lea, even though we've barely spoken before, but all I have as proof that your program is any good is your word and a picture of an attractive woman I've never, met."

"I understand your hesitance quite well, Larry, quite well indeed." Lea appeared soothed as her deep gray eyes studied me carefully. "I'm offering you my help, free and clear, without obligation. It's for you to decide whether you want it or not. But, to be practical, what have you got to lose?"

What indeed? That little white-haired lady sat patiently while I considered her question. If it worked as she 'guaranteed', I could have it all. 'Lora' would be thoroughly pleased, I'd get my thesis done; all the miseries of my "mid-thirties crises" would be well on their way to oblivion, and I'd be well along the road to a new and happier life with a trimmer image and a "degreed" career.

"Okay!" I blurted before second thoughts interfered. "If you're willing to help, I'll accept it." Once committed, I always followed my decisions through, and this was a major one.

"Wonderful!" Aunt Lea's happy smile stretched from ear to ear as she reached out and clasped my hands warmly. "Oh, it'll be just like having dear sweet Andy back again. Mmmm.., let me see, ...oh, there's so much to do!" She patted my hand maternally. "Now, Larry, I want you to arrange your affairs as we've discussed. Let's see..., I can be ready by Sunday next. Will that give you enough time?"

"Yeah, sure, ...I suppose. When summer term ends next week, I'll be done with formal class work and my final project's not due for several more weeks. That allows for your month-long program with time to spare."

"Perfect! Now, run along ..." She ushered me toward the stairs. "I'll begin preparations at once. Oh, this will be such fun!" she gushed as the door shut between us.

Term finals and arrangements at work where a few projects needed last minute attention made the following days leading up to Lea's 'treatment' too hectic for me to bother worrying over whether or not I was making a huge mistake. Besides, all the evidence simply reinforced my growing sense that she was honest and worthy of my trust. Plus, having decided, there seemed no reason not to proceed. After all, as Lea so pointedly stated, what did I have to lose?

Several days before the date she had set to begin my 'program', I announced at a Group meeting that I was getting serious and had enrolled in a weight program. Their general reaction was predictably enthusiastic, although I dodged or coolly ignored several inquiries about the nature of my 'program' selection.

I swallowed hard. "If and when she's presentable, I'll let you know, promise. But I can't be any more specific," I stated flatly, "except that I'll be back in a few weeks to report on my progress," adding 'or failure' under my breath.

Late Sunday morning, Aunt Lea rapped gently on my door. "Larry, if you're ready to get started I'll need you to come downstairs."

You'd better believe I was ready. I'd been up practically all night waiting for her knock like a six-year-old on Christmas morning. I opened the door with a shaky hand, gave her a nervous nod and followed her back down into her parlor where the silver tea service was already laid out. Once again seated nervously on the high-backed divan, I smiled to myself while she fussed with the ritualistic preparation, wondering if she lived on the stuff.

She handed me a steaming cup. "You needn't be, you know. You'll be amazed at how quickly the time will pass."

I promptly burnt my tongue on the hot brew, but the flavor was almost pleasant. It was a bit too sweet, but still a welcome change from the acidic bitterness of previous servings. "Uh...., My project will give me plenty to do, Lea. (Sip) I'm mostly concerned about what's in store for me that's supposed to be such a radical departure from the more conventional systems."

Her familiar smile widened. "Oh, nothing so complicated, Larry, at least not for me, since I have certain means at my disposal which allow me to…help my friends. Andy asked for and received my help, of course, as you know, and so shall you!" She stated the last words with a hard commanding edge to her voice.

I relaxed into the overstuffed sofa, as the comfortable warmth of the tea in my stomach seemed to wash over me. My vision blurred slightly as Lea leaned close to peer into my bleary eyes.

I nodded, since my mouth no longer worked. This wasn't at all what I expected. Vitamins, high-protein low-volume meals, maybe even fasting, but not drugged tea for God's sake! I was fully conscious and aware but no longer able to react in any way except by moving my head slightly.

Without conscious control of my actions, I stood as instructed. Resisting didn't help as I followed Lea to the end of the hallway, through a locked door, and down a steep flight of narrow wooden steps into a brick walled basement. This was no typical dank cold cramped cellar. The large room we entered was thickly carpeted, spacious, warmed by the roaring blaze in a huge stone fireplace, and contained only a single piece of furniture. The lone ladder-backed hardwood chair sat in the midst of a star-shaped design that occupied the center area of the thick pile rug. It was a pentagram!! That room looked for all the world like a witches' lair, except it all seemed too spartan. There were no candles, no bubbling cauldrons, no satanic icons or mystical runes, except for the star designed into the carpet's fabric.

Lea faced me, standing with her toes just beyond one of the star's points. "Now, Larry, I'm sure you have many questions you'd like answered." Whatever she had planned wasn't worth this kind of aggravation, but I could only use my eyes to plead for release.

"You recall," she continued, "that a moment ago I mentioned certain means which I possess by which I help my friends." I managed a slightly frantic and very sweaty nod. "Well, Larry, to put it quite simply, I am a very talented though rather harmless White Witch. Yes indeed, it is a shock, isn't it? I can see the doubt in your expression, but I assure you that a witch is exactly what I am. Even for those who acknowledge the existence of people like me, the general notion of my 'craft is rather negative, and it's unfortunate that a few bad episodes can ruin all the good my profession does. Oh, yes indeed, Larry, witchcraft is a profession, and a very noble one. That's why I live as I do." She gestured expansively toward the ceiling and her home above. "I've made it my life's work to accomplish what good I can in this world, and, as you know, I've been fairly successful." She beamed happily, "Now, I shall use my expertise to help you, so you need not fear, dear, Larry."

Lea the Witch made a complicated motion involving fingers, wrists, and arms, after which I found that I had a voice again. "Awk! God, Lea, you've gone 'round-the bend! There's no such..." My fogged brain abruptly made the connection between her gesture and my voice's restoration. "...oh.., shit!"

I could talk but nothing else would work. I was held in that chair as securely as if bound with chains. "Why all this just to help me lose weight?" I blurted.

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" Being glued to that seat didn't prevent me from breaking out in a cold sweat.

"It means," she declared evenly, "that I know about Lora, and I'm going to help you both."

I sat stunned into shock at the realization that yet another "outsider" had discovered my alter ego, my 'hobby'. "H-H-How'd you find out?" I finally stammered.

She shrugged indifferently. "It was child's play to learn what you used that second bedroom for."

"All right..", I whined miserably, "so I'm a flaming pervert who likes to dress up in women's clothes, and want to look better while doing it. What's that have to do with your treating me this way?"

"Everything, my unhappy friend, just simply everything. And I don't for one instant believe that you are a pervert. No not at all! Unhappy? Maybe. Frustrated? Possibly. Certainly confused. I understand you far better than you know, and I'll prove it."

She folded her arms across her ample chest and held my gaze with her gleaming gray eyes. "You were painfully introverted as a youngster. A loner with a passive nature in the rugged social structure of boyhood, you were ostracized; picked on, bullied. You sought desperately for escape from the torture of your social role, and soon observed that girls need not be hard and tough. In fact, they were expected to be gentle, mild mannered, and passive.

"Realizing that you fit better into what appeared to you to be their docile sensitive world, you decided that you should have been born female."

My mind reeled at the clarity with which Lea voiced what I had thought and felt for so long.

"Apparently," she continued, "your identification with girls was muted somewhat as you matured and married. But the recent upheaval in your life, especially the loneliness, was the fuel that fired your desire to finally make yourself, at least occasionally, into an imperfect likeness of the woman you would like to have been."

She paused long enough for me to absorb her words, then asked, "Well, isn't that pretty close to the mark? Did I just describe Larry Rossman?"

I responded in a subdued whisper. "All too accurately. You seem to understand me better than I do myself."

"Yes, I know. People are usually quite unsuccessful at making impartial judgements when it comes to self-analysis, so it often takes an outside observer to help gain a true understanding. After all, that's how psychiatrists and psychologists make a very comfortable living, you know." She paid very deliberate attention to the placement of her feet just beyond the star point in the carpet. "Now that we've had this pleasant little chat, let's begin your treatment, shall we?"

Her eyes widened dramatically as she clasped her hands together as if about to pray.

"Exactly what I did for Andy, my dear, Larry. I'm helping you, just like you wanted me to." Lea's lips quivered slightly and a pale reddish light filled the chamber.

"No more talk!" Her sweet smile never wavered as a simple flick of one little finger silenced me, literally!

The power Lea seemed able to command defied explanation, unless she really was a witch! Which could also explain why it was so easy for her to achieve her reputation as the community's resident 'Good Samaritan'? A spell here, a charm there, a well-placed incantation, and presto, instant solutions! My invisible bonds were proof enough, but I also had to wonder why she was going to such lengths for me.

Then I remembered that picture of Andrea in her lace wedding gown, and finally connected it with some of Lea's comments. I'd asked for the same kind of help as her? My thoughts took a crazy twist ... Was she..? Could her name have really been A..A..Andrew?!?

"Yes, it was," Lea stated emphatically. I realized my lips had mimed that name. "Now relax, Larry. I'm about to make your dreams come true." Arms extended toward me, palms down and fingers fluttering, she began a long serious of unintelligible incantations and rhythmic chants.

Fortunately for my sanity, I don't recall much of what followed. While Lea continued her conjuring the reddish light phased into a dazzling pink brilliance. I could no longer feel the chair, nor did I care, as a pleasant sense of floating propelled me upward through fluffy pink clouds and brilliant white beams of light. Flower petals rode upon the gentle breeze which also bore and me along, and the sun's rays were warm and soothing. I was entranced, awed, and thoroughly content. It was a beautiful, soothing ride and seemed to last forever.

I awoke to find Lea standing alongside my bed. "How do you feel today, my dear?"

Cotton wadding filled my mouth. Sand clogged my throat. "Urgh .... ... wh ... .. durpble.." I croaked weakly.

She patted my limp arm. "Don't worry. Remember my warning that you'd be uncomfortable for a while? Until you can manage alone I'll help you all I can."

I wondered if her sort of help could be dangerous to my health! But at the moment I was too damned miserable to care. My stomach was doing somersaults, everything was a blur beyond a few feet, and the bed kept tilting like a rowboat in the eye of a hurricane. It really did feel like terminal flu. For an instant that lovely image of "Andy's" portrait flashed across my memory synapses and I wondered if, given Lea's rather unorthodox assistance, I'd end up looking that good for The Group's Halloween Party? The thought was drowned, however, by a sickening wave of nausea that doubled me over with dry heaves.

Two hundred years seemed to pass without me much caring if I lived another hour. I was too busy retching, or sitting on the toilet (which I usually could manage to find only with Lea's unwavering aide), or resting in a mental fog between bouts. I didn't know where all that rejected volume came from since I was eating nothing solid, only drinking water or juices, and very little of those either. I wondered if Lea's 'Program' was designed to make me so sick that the pounds were simply expelled via every available orifice, but that seemed like a singularly unhealthy approach.

Anyone who has ever had the flu knows how it feels be lost in a hazy world of clammy sheets, chilling sweats, burning fever, and total mental withdrawal. Well, what I was going through was so much farther up the scale of misery that it approached death! Thankfully, the memories are too unpleasant and foggy for my poor beleaguered mind to recall in their entirety. But, two lingering images stood out, both involving Lea.

The first was of her standing before me in that basement chamber, mumbling and waving her hands in the air.

In the other, she was also doing the incantation bit, but this time she was leaning over me as I lay in bed. I'd been 'sick' for what seemed an eternity and had just returned from my umpteenth trip to the head.

I remember Lea twiddling her fingers over my face and saying, "Sleep now, my dear one, ..sslleeeepp. All will be well when you awaken." The soothing drone of her voice was like a lullaby that gently pushed me into the first peaceful sleep I'd had in ages.

Bright warm sunshine streamed through the open window and a fresh breeze rustled the curtains. Everything was crystal clear, almost like it had all been a bad dream. No blurred vision, cold sweats, twisting stomach, or cramping bowels. Even a normal flu attack would have required a day or two of recovery, so I had figured that I'd need at least a month to get over what I'd been through! Yet, I felt surprisingly good, except for a profound weakness that prevented me from even raising my arms.

Lea was sitting by the window in a rocking chair that she'd evidently brought from downstairs. "How are you feeling, my dear?"

The endearment made me feel like a small child. "Ugh, not too bad," I whispered hoarsely past a raw throat and dry mouth. My stomach growled, but for a much better reason than before. "..uh.., Lea? I'm hungry."

She beamed pleasantly and nodded. "Excellent! I'll fetch you some broth." She rose quickly and headed for my kitchenette. "You'll be up and around in no time."

While Lea was gone, I took a quick inventory of my person and found that my crazed imaginings of her witchcraft transforming me into a fairy princess were unfounded. Thank goodness! But the ravages of whatever bug she'd stuck me with were very evident. Making a rather crude estimate of the volume of noxious material which had been dispossessed, I expected to find my body resembling those cadaverous starving children in Africa that are always on the news; all bone and shriveled hide.

Not so! My skin was rather pale, and it was evident that I'd lost a lot of weight. Otherwise, the effects were minimal. There were some oddities, but I chalked them up to the drastic and sudden loss of mass. For instance, my chest and stomach had lost so much that my ribs and hipbones were easily observed beneath the pallid flesh, and my arms, legs, even my fingers and feet looked much thinner. There was no mirror at hand by which I could check my face, but I suspected that it probably looked equally emaciated, if the condition my body was any indication.

In my weakened condition the sheet and thin blanket seemed unpleasantly heavy, but I snuggled gratefully beneath their warmth as Lea returned with a bed tray containing soup, toast, coffee, and orange juice.

Her perpetual smile seemed to brighten the room as she plumped up the pillows behind my neck and back, then placed the tray over my lap. "I know this seems like an awful lot to eat after what you've been through," she explained, "but do the best you can and you'll feel much better."

The mingling aromas of toast and fresh coffee smelled wonderful and made my mouth water, so I gingerly sampled the soup. When my stomach didn't rebel, the words came out between bites. "Thanks, Lea. Looks like I've gotten rid of all the weight I wanted, and maybe some extra besides." With Swirling images of her 'witchy' behavior still in my mind, I smiled wanly and added, "Maybe there really is magic in this ugly world of ours after all. But I hope it doesn't make people as miserable as it made me." The contents of the tray were disappearing quickly.

"Hee, hee-, no, Larry, they don't. The vast majority never even knows anything is different, and if they do the cause is never suspected. Besides, I prefer to accomplish my ends anonymously whenever possible. Only rarely, as with you and Andy, do I consider more drastic measures." She glanced at the empty dishes. "Your appetite is certainly healthy enough."

"Yeah, it sure is." I hadn't noticed how good everything tasted until it was gone and I wanted more. Then my thoughts turned elsewhere. "Where is she now?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you. H..She moved away after the wedding." Lea's voice and expression reflected a bitter-sweet memory. "I never had a family of my own, you know, so, for a while, Andy became the child I never had. I find a somewhat cruel irony in the fact that all my efforts to improve her contributed to my losing her." She dabbed a tissue at wet eyes as a tear streaked her cheek. "Oh (cough), I do so hate to make a scene."

"Well, after that witchery stuff you pulled on me, at least it's reassuring to know that you suffer from real human emotions. Andrea must have been very special to you."

"Yes, she was, so much so that she's my legal heir. Remember the 'niece' I told you about that first day, the one who knew Janice?"

Lea nodded. "They were friends all through school, but Andy married and left with her new husband. They must have lost touch along the way. I get a card or short letter from her occasionally, but lost contact with Janice. I heard she'd gotten married too, but didn't know much about you."

She switched suddenly to a more delicate matter, at least it was for me. "Larry? Janice was raised very conservatively, and I know she's very active in her church. I know this is a touchy subject for you, but how did she react to your 'Lora'?"

Since Lea knew even more now than Janice had ever discovered, and had already proved quite thoroughly that she understood far better than my ex-wife, I saw no reason to withhold anything.

"That was probably the main reason for our divorce, although there were certainly others." MY throat felt much better after eating, but my voice cracked oddly at times.

I told her everything: my reasons for marrying in the first place; Janice's nonexistent sex drive; my frustration and hers; my eventual slide into Lora's world; and Janice coming home early from Bible study to discover me asleep in the study wearing her old clothes.

"I was feeling real sorry for myself after getting that bomb dumped on me at the office about the move to 'degrees', so I guess Lora was my escape mechanism. Anyway, Janice caught me, threw me out, and filed for divorce. You know the rest since that's about when we met."

"Hmm, yes, having known Janice, I can see that's how she would have reacted. What a shame! You could have really used her support, and it certainly would have saved you both a good deal of grief. But then, we never would have met, would we?"

"No, and I never would have known what a 'White Witch' is, nor would you have been able to help me. By the way, thanks, even if it was damned unpleasant and unorthodox. You've been far more successful at stripping away my excess baggage than any conventional means could have been, I'm sure. Uh.., how long did that nightmare last anyway? It already seems like just a bad dream, except that my body is ample evidence to the contrary." I looked down at my thin arm and rib-lined chest. "You may have even overdone it a bit."

"Oh, this is nothing like that at all, my dear. But first you have to gain some strength. Tomorrow will be soon enough, I think. For now, if You're up to it, you should be strong enough to fend for yourself for a few hours." She indicated the computer and piles of books and notes on the nearby table. "You might want to occupy yourself while I catch up on all my other work. Besides, I need to prepare for your last treatment." She left without another word.

I wondered at the need for yet another brush with Lea's witchcraft, but since I'd already come so far it seemed unlikely that she'd do me any damage. Except for the ugly discomfort and disorientation, which I had to admit she'd warned me about, I seemed none the worse for wear. Even the weakness had disappeared enough that I could move, although somewhat tentatively at first. Lea was right. I felt able to manage fairly well on my own.

At first, there was an occasional muscle spasm, some weakness from a general lack of energy, and mild vertigo that caused me to take things very slowly, but after a shuffling stroll to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash up, I felt pretty good. Of course, I pressed at my endurance level a few times and ended up groping for a chair when the world canted to the south. But generally, so long as any physical effort was handled with measured deliberation, I managed fine.

Mentally, however, I was having a fit. Three of the four weeks I'd planned on using to turn out my magnificent final work project were gone! Now I was being forced to cram all that work into one-quarter of the time. I had all the materials organized, but there was still a huge pile of work left, a month's worth, in fact! I certainly needn't worry about being bored for the coming week, and now was as good a time as any to begin.

The rest of that day was spent at work, punctuated by irregular breaks to rest, eat, and visit the bathroom. When Lea returned the next morning, I was plinking away at my keyboard, having spent a restless night and risen very early.

It was easy to conclude that her visit was not social since she appeared in the door wearing a long shapeless gray robe with cabalistic symbols sewn along the hem and sleeves.

"Morning Lo ... Larry," she smiled pleasantly (of course). "I see you have recovered well enough to handle the final phase of your treatment. Shall we proceed?"

"Yeah, if you say so," I responded rather hesitantly, "but I don't understand why it's needed. You've accomplished what I asked of you, and then some. What's left?"

"Y..Yea.., you wanted to help me diet.." I flushed, purposely dodging the central issue.

I couldn't bring myself to answer as she coaxed me away from the computer and back toward the bed.

"As I recall," Lea pointedly stated, "the reason for offering my assistance involved more than simply helping you lose weight. Since you persist in avoiding the subject of Lora, I'll not be the one to press you about her. But, you must understand that she is the only reason I'm using my talents to help you. Now lie down quietly and we'll get this over with."

After pulling down the blanket and sheet, she pushed me back against the pillows and swung my legs up. I'd pulled on some shorts to wear around the warm apartment, but she didn't seem to care that I was not bare-ass naked as had been the case during my 'illness'.

"More mumbo jumbo?" I queried. "As it is I'll need to replace most of my own and Lora's clothes. What more is there?"

For the first time, I noted irritation in Lea's expression. "Lora is there, you dolt! Now be still while I get this done," she snapped.

Her answer was too obscure for my liking, but she'd apparently ceased being receptive, so further inquiry seemed fruitless, at least for the present. Besides, her last words gave the distinct impression that if I made another sound it'd be like jumping on the kitchen floor with an angel food cake in the oven - the cake being ME! The analogy caused such extremely unpleasant mental images that I very carefully followed her instructions.

Lea's actions, while lacking the more dramatic setting of the basement chamber, did not seem all that different. She stood at the foot of the bed with arms and fingers extended toward me. Again, she began mumbling a gibberish that didn't sound like the sort of thing the human throat was designed to handle very well. Only this time, I retained my powers of speech and movement, though I was too intimidated to dare twitching a single muscle or making the smallest sound as she prattled unintelligibly.

After a few minutes of nonsense syllables and finger twiddling, Lea closed her eyes tightly and raised her arms toward the ceiling (sky?) in supplication.

"cranfes toelic mimr leztvic noct trelivbmo" she exclaimed (or something similar), then in perfectly clear English, "Oh, Sublime Susar. Oh, Magnanimous Mardak. Attend thy daughter, oh.. Greatest of the Greats. Give me thy boon, oh, Master's of ALL. plimtic ratif obvintes dlnkfis!"

Whatever doubts I'd had about Lea's witchiness had been well quashed simply by observation. What occurred next gained my FULL attention and forever guaranteed my unqualified testimonial as to her talent

A double pulse of dazzling blue-white light flanked Lea, like two powerful flash bulbs. When the spots before my eyes cleared, there were two grizzled old men standing with her, each clad in fancier royal-blue versions of Lea's gray robe.

The dramatic arrival of those two old geezers scared the bloody Hell out of me! And didn't do my worn-out entrails much good either! Having read enough fantasy and sci-fi to stock a library, I recognized them for what they were, WIZARDS! Where and when they came from, only Lea knew, but their presence in my apartment was obviously her doing. Both were short and thickly built with dirty gray-white hair, and moustaches and beards so long they'd have to move whiskers aside to eat or even piss.

I stared at those two apparitions like a frightened mouse bristling in terror as it watches the cat's paw swing toward it; unable to avoid the fate it represented.

"You require something, My Dear?" the Wizard rasped on Lea's left. His voice sounded like gravel being crushed.

The other Fellow gave me a questioning sideways stare with eyes like cold blue steel. "T'would appear you're at it again, My Flower." His grin exposed jagged blackened teeth, and his tone was even more guttural than the other's was.

"Indeed I am, Master Susar. Why else would I summon you who have had so much success in such matters." Lea's lopsided smirk reflected a conspiratorial undertone.

"Very well then, we shall proceed." He seemed resigned to a task for which he had little enthusiasm.

The two sorcerers flanked my bed and began passing their gnarled hands through the air above my prone form while chanting what sounded like that same crazy lingo Lea had used. To my surprise and fascination pink lines formed in the wake of their fingertips, like pale rose jet streams, until the space a foot above me was filled with an intricate geometric pattern of interlocking contrails. After several verses, the four wrinkled old hands fell away and so did the pattern, only it descended slowly onto ME before fading. I flinched, but felt nothing.

The two locked gazes, nodded in unison, and returned to Lea who had been quietly observing their activities with obvious adoration.

'Susar' seemed less amiable. "Next time, provided there is one, I want more notice, if you please, Mistress Lea. I was about to deal with a young highwayman who's been prowling my environs when you interrupted my concentration."

"My apologies, Your Augustness. Your request is duly noted, and shall be obeyed henceforth." Lea bowed even lower.

With that, 'Susar' slapped his hands together, producing a horrendous BOOM, like a lightning bolt hitting underfoot, and vanished instantly!

His fellow necromancer scowled at the spot which 'Susar' vacated so abruptly. "Great Zarcon! Why does he always have to be so melodramatic? Ah well," he sighed deeply and embraced Lea with obvious affection. She hugged him back. "It's so good to see you again, My Dear. When will you be leaving this insane place and returning to Wyth? The Keep just isn't the same without your masterful management, and there's a new Ostrogoth problem brewing that could use your attention."

Lea kissed his wrinkled cheek. "I'll be returning soon enough, My Sweet Mardak. But there's more here I'd like to accomplish first. If you want me back so badly, why not teach me to do this myself." She casually gestured in my direction. "Then I could finish my work here more quickly and needn't bother you and grumpy old Susar every time the situation warrants." Mardak scowled but didn't respond. "No? Well then, snap back to your beloved old dusty scrollery and be about your business while I attend to mine."

"Very well, My Love. I know you too well to argue. Ta ta..!" He actually did leave with a SNAP.., a snap of his fingers that exploded like a gunshot as he disappeared, leaving a strong scent of ozone in his wake.

For a moment Lea stared at where he'd stood, then stepped forward with a bouncing girlish lilt in her gait. Her face was radiant. "Well, my dear Larry, what do you think of my friends?"

"Yes, aren't they! And now that they've done their work and gone, let's come to an understanding, shall we?"

"Whatcha got in mind?" I slurred absently, preoccupied with trying to figure out why she'd summoned two wizards straight out of "Dungeons and Dragons" to draw pretty pink smoke designs in the air. Nothing else seemed to have been accomplished by their presence, at least nothing I could see or feel, although I was obviously the object of their ministrations. Then my mind wandered back to what Lea was saying.

"...huh? What?" It was hard to form the words since my lips and tongue felt suddenly numb!

Lea reached out and felt my forehead then checked the pulse at my throat and nodded. "I said, since you'll need help adjusting, it would probably be best if you lived here with me for a while. Okay, Lora?"

"Wha .... wattchoo meenn, hhooo ... Looorrraaa?" My face felt like a mad dentist had shot my whole mouth full of novocaine!

There was a gentle pat on my shoulder. "You better relax for a while, dear. We'll discuss it later when you've had a chance to rest a bit." The sheet was pulled over me and securely tucked about my shoulders before she quietly drew the curtains against the sunlight and left the room.

It was easy to determine that whatever was now happening to me had been initiated by Lea's accomplices, just as she had brought about my spectacular weight loss. ...But I still didn't have the faintest clue as to why it was necessary? Or why she needed their help at all? And why had she suggested that I stay with her? Wasn't I doing that, already?

My mind swirled with questions. Hopefully I'd get to ask some of them eventually, and maybe even get some straight answers too. Right now, though, I wanted nothing more than to rest.

Convoluted dreams churned through my sleep. Sorcerers chanted spells that turned princes into frogs. Witches with warty noses and stringy black hair stirred the noxious boiling contents of black cauldrons over Hell's sulfurous flames. Then a bright pink fog obliterated the nightmares and from it was formed a scene of idyllic grandeur and enchanting beauty.

It was a splendid version of my favorite 'Lora' fantasy. I was standing at the far end of a long wide aisle, facing the distant pulpit behind which a minister waited. To his left stood a rank of handsome men in tuxedos. To his right was a line of bridesmaids in gorgeous white satin gowns.

A hand touched my arm and I recognized 'Mardak' despite the cropped beard and formal black velvet tuxedo. Mardak tucked my hand into the bend of his elbow and we began a measured stroll down the aisle as an organ droned the first notes of Wagner's Pagan Wedding March.

I was the bride! All eyes in the chapel were upon me! But my fantasies had never been so vivid so detailed!

I stared down at myself. The brilliant white satin bridal gown that I wore was magnificent. It brushed the floor as I walked, with several yards of satin trailing behind, and the gossamer veil hindered my sight not at all.. Although I could see little of myself, I was incredibly sensitive to the feel of my body. Hidden under the gown's floor length skirt, my feet moved gracefully in spite of high-heel pumps. I felt the silken panties engulfing my hips, the garter belt at my tiny waist, the garters attached to sheer hose that caressed my long smooth legs. Flared hips and full rounded buttocks swayed at each step. Earrings that felt like small hoops tugged at my lobes and bobbed against my neck with each step.

What I could see was delectable! A wide white satin sash emphasized my tiny waist. Full-length lace sleeves extended to a v-shape over the back of my small hands. Slender dainty fingers ended in long crimson nails. Thick reddish brown tresses tumbled profusely over my shoulders. The gown's lace-trimmed bodice scooped low, exposing two mounds of flawless creamy flesh. I could feel sensitive nipples pressing firmly against the ample bodice.

Suddenly, the delicious scene was washed away by the strident clatter of curtains being pulled open, and the sudden blinding glare of an exceedingly clear bright sunlit day.

"Hey, sleepy head!" Lea prodded pleasantly. "You were so anxious to get working on that computer of yours and here you've lounged away half the day already." She fluffed a sofa cushion that didn't need it and headed for my kitchenette where she stuffed something in the microwave. "Hungry?"

Savory aromas teased my olfactory system and my stomach rumbled. I remembered skipping breakfast. "Famished," I replied, ignoring her mother-hen attitude. My voice sounded funny, too squeaky and high-pitched.

Apparently I was strong enough to eat her cooking, but not enough to de my own? Well, I determined, that's what she thought! Feeling completely rested, alert, and strong enough to do anything, I threw back the sheet and swung my legs over the edge of the bed.

Before, as soon as I'd been able after Lea's earlier 'treatment', I'd checked the results meticulously. The scale had confirmed that I'd lost a lot weight, over fifty pounds, in fact! My stomach, chest, shoulders, thighs, ...my body had shed mass everywhere. I was a much trimmer version of myself. But since I exercised irregularly, and wasn't in very good shape to begin with, my muscles lacked tone and definition. So, the treatment had made me look like a skinny knock-kneed weakling.

Now, however, the legs attached to my hips looked... well, different! My feet appeared smaller, ankles narrower, calves suddenly lean and straight, kneecaps rounded and smooth, and my thighs were downright thick! It almost looked like I was putting on weight again! Yet, oddest of all: the dark black hairs that had covered my legs since puberty were noticeably lighter and much thinner. My skin was even paler, though only my legs looked different.

"What the ... !" I shook away the grogginess and looked again, confirming the peculiar changes to my lower extremities. Then, Lea's words from long ago echoed in my head. "I'll help you with Lora" had been the essence of what she'd promised. Now, staring down at my limbs dangling off the bed, I concluded that this last 'treatment' via Lea's wizardly associates appeared to be adjusting my slimmed body so I could 'dress' more passably. At least that's what these apparent changes in my legs seemed to indicate.

Checking more closely, I decided that the sleeker straighter lines of my limbs would look pretty good in pantyhose, and my feet would appear quite dainty in heels! I was a mite concerned about how I'd look in a man's swimsuit, but then I wasn't much of a swimmer anyway. Besides, having lost all that weight via Lea's witchy spells, and with help from her two wizardly cohorts, I just might have a really big surprise for the next Group session. With a bit of additional help, by Halloween it was altogether possible I'd be the Belle of the Ball' Heehee, what a trip that'd be!

My belly gurgled again in anticipation of nourishment as I hopped from bed, still wearing only shorts, and set about arranging myself a healthy repast from Lea's chicken casserole. I was famished, but only a dozen bites satisfied me completely. The remains went in the fridge, and I was soon at .the computer, busily attacking my project with renewed vigor. I'd wasted a good portion of the day in bed and could ill afford the lost time. The deadline was rapidly approaching and that last nap had caused me to fall even farther behind schedule.

Much later, I barely acknowledged Lea with a cursory nod when she returned. "That must be an extremely complicated…thingie.. you're working on," she remarked over my shoulder after pulling the curtains against the darkened sky. "You've been at it again for hours."

"Uh huh." I balked at the unwelcome interruption and tried to concentrate, brushing hair from my eyes.

What the...? Having lost a good portion of my hair to 'male pattern baldness', I kept it cropped short. Now the damned stuff was falling in my eyes!!??

Instantly my concentration was on me! With considerable disbelief, I ran my fingers through the thick hair sprouting from my head that had somehow grown dramatically while I was engrossed elsewhere. It was at least four inches long all over, even where there had been none for years! Strands brushed the nap of my neck and ears.

Groping wildly at my scalp, I turned. "Hey, look Lea! I never said anything before when I saw what those warlocks did to my legs. I just figured that was a little bonus to help me be a better 'Lora'. But this?" I held out a handful of thick hair. "How do I explain how I suddenly grew so much hair?"

My hands! I'd been using them at the computer, of course, but had paid little attention to anything but making headway. Now, my wrists were narrow, my hands small and dainty with long fingers. Then I gawked in amazement as, before my very eyes, my digits grew long manicured nails!

I held up my new feminine hands. "What's happening, Lea? What are you doing to me?" My voice quavered and hopped up the scale between bass and soprano, getting higher with every syllable.

"Oh, my dear," she soothed, "please calm down. There's no need to get so excited, is there? Don't you want to be 'Best Dressed' at the Group's Halloween party'

"I make it my business to know everything about my friends, Larry. Haven't you learned that yet? And in your case, I know that you have often wished to see a woman in your mirror, right Lora?" She pointedly emphasized my 'femme-de-plume'.

Staring inanely at a slender tapering finger, I ran it through the waves of hair that were already brushing my shoulders. "Dear God, what have I gotten into!??" I muttered.

Lea seemed quite pleased with herself. "What you've gotten into, my dear, is my small circle of very special close friends, and for them I'll do anything. You were so troubled, so confused, and I read in you a frantic desire to escape. In your case, that escape mechanism, as you yourself admitted, was your 'Lora fantasy'. As a woman you could let someone else do the worrying, make the decisions, do the fighting that you'd rather avoid. Just look at what you've been doing these past two days. You've been scraping and clawing your way through a report you hate, that will earn you nothing more than a college degree that you were forced get, by a company that tried to dump on you after you'd given them the best years of your adult life. Wouldn't you be better off starting over fresh and clean? Wouldn't you rather trash this whole scene and begin again?"

Damn, why did she always have to be so right? Lea saw into my very soul and read its contents better than I could myself. And when she put it into words, I knew it was all too true. I really DID hate all this!

My vision blurred, this time with genuine tears, and for the first time in many years, I cried salty droplets that flowed freely down my cheeks.

"There, there," cooed Lea with a motherly pat on my newly shaggy skull. "I know it's hard, but I am offering you a way out. All you have to do is be my friend, always."

"What do you mean?" I blubbered. "Helping me be a better looking transvestite isn't a way out. If anything, it'd be worse than before. This androgynous look might be okay for my private fantasy world, or even a Group party, but I've gotta live in the real world. This can be, and is, an extremely harsh place for that kind of person. If you leave me this way I'll have to move and start over somewhere far away!"

"That's not what I had in mind, my dear. What I'd prefer is that you remain here with me indefinitely. In return, I'll provide for both our needs. I like you very much, my dear sweet Lo... Larry." She was looking at me, but her eyes held a faraway dreamy cast. "You see, never having had my own family, nor children of my own to nurture and love, I gain a measure of fulfillment by assisting my friends through hard times and trials to whatever degree of happiness my help and their own efforts can achieve for them. That is my gift to you, Larry. All I want in return is your friendship, and maybe eventually even love and devotion. Is that too much to ask?" Her emotional outburst tore at my heartstrings and the tears were hers now, not mine.

"No, it's not too much," I replied softly. Through deepening depression, I realized Lea was as much in need of affection as I was. Looking up at her, I forced a wan smile to pull at my lips.

Eyes brightening, she asked hopefully, "Will you stay? It's been wonderful having you here, and I've been so lonely since Andrea left."

"Sure, Aunt Lea, I'll stay." She smiled at my deliberately affectionate appellation. Then, with a high-pitched trill, I hastily added, "But I'd really like to know what you had those geezers do to me?" Again, I held up long-nailed fingers for inspection.

Her familiar wide smile flashed. "Well, they have had a good deal of experience with just the sort of solution we needed to help you start a new life. And they're the best, of that I can vouch personally.

"By tomorrow night you'll be ready to make a clean break with your past. You see its Lora I want to live with me, not Larry! Isn't that a thoroughly exciting prospect?" she gushed.

"..uh ... well, I'm not so sure," I mused. No matter how much I hated the life I was living, it still seemed unimaginable that it might be possible for me to function as Lora on a full-time basis. "It wouldn't work," I stated emphatically, "unless I move to Australia, or change my name, or get radical plastic surgery and can afford to buy a new identity. Probably all those things. And even though I now know what you and your magical buddies can accomplished, the idea's too farfetched for me to comprehend, ...much less believe it can actually happen."

Lea favored me with another motherly pat and ran her finger gently through the burgeoning waves that now cascaded six inches below my shoulders. "Why don't you get a good night's sleep and we'll talk in the morning." She gestured casually.

Suddenly I found it impossible to keep my eyes open, and the bed looked extremely comfortable and inviting. I was about to crawl between the covers before Lea stopped me.

Lea dug into a dresser drawer and produced a wad of white material. "Maybe you'd better put this on so you'll be warm and cozy."

She handed me a glossy silk lady's nightgown! It was long enough to cover me from shoulders to knees, though much too diaphanous to really conceal anything. The sheer fabric whispered against my bare skin when I dropped it over my head. There was white lace with pink ribbon woven into the hem, collar, and short sleeves. This was definitely a very sexy woman's nightdress.

I hesitated, then considered my new arms, legs, and profuse head of hair. I'd look rather feminine in that gown, and the image was reasonably appealing. Besides, it'd be a kick to wear it since I'd never had the courage to buy, much less sleep in, a lady's nightie.

Still wearing the man's shorts under the diaphanous negligee, I crawled into the warm and cozy bed. Vision dimmed almost immediately and sleep came so fast I didn't hear Lea say "good night".

My dreams were again filled with the same fantasy-wedding scene in startling clarity. I could actually feel the gown containing my diminutive waist, the crispness of stiff crinolines against my nylon-clad legs, their flaring weight augmenting my broad hips. Thick flowing brown locks tumbled over my neck, brushing my bare neck and shoulders. There was a distinct sense of fleshy weights where the bulging bodice inadequately confined my breasts. A heart-shaped silver locket on a daintily thin silver chain was nestled at the apex of the deliciously exposed cleavage.

All these sensations flooded my senses as we approached the pulpit. Yet, the groom was never more than a fuzzy blur. Oh, how I wished for a clear glimpse of that shadowy face as he stepped forward to take my arm from Mardak.

We moved forward toward the priest, who turned out to be Susar, Lea's second wizard friend, the cranky one! He began the service, with that gravely voice of his rumbling through the chapel as the ceremony passed with dreamlike speed. Suddenly, I was kissing my mysterious new husband. Then there was a lurching sensation and bright light washed away the vision.

I was awake. Sunshine flooded the room, the bed, and my senses as Lea was once again pulling back the drapes.

Hey, that's not right! My bedroom was on the west side of the house. It got direct sun only in the afternoon, not in the morning!

"Ugh!" I croaked, almost gouging my eye with long nails in an attempt to rub the sleep away. My throat was swollen and raw.

"You slept late again, my dear. Your breakfast is waiting, if you want it." Her perky tone didn't cheer me at all. "And here's something to cover yourself with." She tossed me a powder blue woman's housecoat with a quilted pattern.

Sitting up abruptly to take stock of the situation, I found myself looking through a brown haze. It was hair, and it was everywhere! Swiping the feathery mass away from my face, I scratched my forehead with those long nails I'd been given only hours earlier. When I pulled myself out of bed and stood, tangled masses of brown fell halfway to my waist! Damn, was I going to do with that?

Lea seemed to be enjoying my uneasiness. "Hehehe.., maybe you better try using a brush before you eat. Otherwise you'll end up with more hair in your mouth than food. And you'll notice I've moved You down into Andy's old room."

"I thought Andy lived upstairs?" My voice still sounded high and squeaky, like before it changed in my youth.

"She did, but after her own treatment we both thought it best and more convenient for her to move down here into the old maid's quarters. It's not quite as roomy, but we can share a single kitchen and the upstairs can be rented to someone else."

I simply stood and stared, holding the housecoat in my hands like it was a deadly snake and I'd already been bitten.

"Your clothes are in there," she waved idly at a double-wide closet, then indicated a single door beside it, "and that's the bathroom. Now, please hurry before breakfast gets cold."

I was left alone to contemplate the situation. Why in the world had she moved me? And how? Her magic almost certainly helped, but I could only wonder at her reasons. This whole affair was getting stranger by the hour!

The room was about the same size as my upstairs bedroom (not Lora's), but the clutter of furnishings made it seem much smaller. the warm rays of the morning sun poured in through the single large multi-paned window. The bed and a large antique chiffonnier mostly took up one wall. There were a mirrored mahogany dresser, and a matching vanity that had its own full-length mirror. Their tops were cluttered with jars, bottles, and at least three jewelry cases. Then there was the walk-in closet, and the bathroom, which reminded me of something I hadn't done for a while.

I had to hike up the long nightdress to sit. Then, even while nature took its course, the slender new feminine lines of my extremities fascinated me. When I pointed my toes, there was a straight line from knee to toenail, like a ballerina. That was something I never could have done before. But that unruly mop of hair always getting in the way was constantly thwarting my examination. I noticed that the bath was fully stocked with all the products needed to control my scraggly tresses. Shampoo, conditioners, curlers, blow dryer, could be seen on the shelves, along with bath oils, salts, bubble bath, talc, powder, and all the other junk women use in their baths and on their bare hides.

Business complete, I smoothed the nightgown into place and retrieved the quilted housecoat from the bed. Well, why not? Of course, it buttoned the wrong way, was too tight in the shoulders and waist, and was much too wide about the hips, but it covered more effectively than the sheer nightie beneath. I knotted the belt, and then spotted a big hairbrush on the vanity that helped untangle most of the bigger clumps. I also found a couple of large hairpins and wedged them into the hair at my temples to hold the stuff out of my face. Done up right it might have looked pretty nice. For now, it was an unmanageable mess.

Lea looked up from the stove when I entered. "Hmmm, not bad for the first try," she complemented.

I sat down, but the chair seemed bigger and the table higher than I recalled from having tea there so long ago during my first visit, "First try?"

"Yes, my dear. Of course, you'll improve dramatically with practice." Sausage from the skillet joined two eggs already on my plate. With a similar serving, she sat opposite me. "Uh.... Larry, we need to talk."

"Oh? What about?" The fork seemed large and unwieldy with my delicate fingers and long nails.

"Well, there's little else I can do, I suppose, though it's not necessarily what I would have chosen on my own. You have, after all, made some decisions for me. So, I'm staying, apparently down here with you as it turns out. I guess I really don't mind that much either. Except for that room you've moved me into."

"You'll get accustomed to it soon enough. But I told you last night, it's not you I want here, it's Lora!"

I recalled her saying as much before, but she'd stated it so calmly I didn't grasp her meaning for a few seconds. Now she was insistent. If I hadn't already finished eating I'd have choked on it. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm quite serious," she declared seriously. "Arrangements have already been made."

Lea's manner and tone held a cool resolve that was beginning to make me nervous. "I have a certain standing in the community, as you well know. How would it lock if my live-in companion turned out to be a thirty-eight year old male transvestite? Besides, young ladies are much prettier company, don't you think?"

"Hal Maybe by now I could even pass on the street with these legs and hair you've given me, something I only dreamed about just a few week's ago. But I can hardly be young again!"

Lea's lips pursed into a smirk, an eyebrow cocked upward. "Nothing is impossible in my profession," she proclaimed.

"You're really serious? You actually want me to live here with you fulltime as Lora?"

"Not hardly," I scoffed. "You've given me some superficial physical attributes that with a little help could pass for feminine,. But if I cut this chaotic mane of mine, I'd still be just a much thinner version of my old male self. Besides, I'm a transvestite, not a transsexual."

I gathered up a handful of long waves from the mass that lay across my shoulders and chest. "This is as close as I want to come to really being female." Deep within my mind I wasn't too sure that was actually true, and Lora was really kicking up a fuss in there, but my male existence was too entrenched. Lea's proposal threatened my identity, and that was extremely unsettling.

"...know about your dream? I'm a White Witch, that's how! Now quit being so obstinate and let's get on with things." She handed me a pen and a folder containing several legal-sized papers. "Why waste your life fighting your inner self? I offer a rare chance to burn your bridges, to throw off the terrible burdens of your life. Sign and Larry Rossman will vanish from the face of the earth. Lora Marie Covington will be born!"

"LLLooorrraa ... MMa ... C…CO.-Covington?" The full name was typed clearly beneath the signature line near the bottom of the top page. Above it, Lea had already signed, as had a very prominent judge whose name I immediately recognized!

Her face brightened visibly. "Officially, that paper formalizes our relationship. As Lora, you are my niece."

"My dear, You continue to misunderstand. I'll readily admit that some of my motives are selfish, and I want to fill the void left by Andy's departure. When she insisted on going her own way, I could have stopped her, but I would never have done so.

"Now, I want Lora to be the young woman who replaces her, who fills that emptiness. I know what you want, Larry, maybe more than you do yourself. Sign and we'll both be happy. Wouldn't you rather be Lora than the person you were? Isn't that what you've always wanted?"

Her questions cut uncomfortably deep and rang too true for me to deny. Throwing off the heavy yoke of my life as Larry Rossman was terribly appealing. And wedding images kept popping into my head as I held the pen tentatively. But...

"Was your drastic weight loss impossible?" she countered. "Or your beautiful hair? Or your new hands and legs? Sign and you'll be my niece, Lora, all legal and proper. Larry will vanish forever."

Knowing only that what she offered was more appealing than what I had, I let my trembling hand pick up the pen and reach toward the sheaf of papers.

It signed "Lora M. Covington" in a wide, flowing, feminine cursive that didn't resemble my masculine scrawl in any way!

"Oh, I'm so pleased, my dear!" Lea took the papers and set them aside. "Now let's go back to your room and finish what we've started."

"You mean I have to start being Lora NOW? I thought I'd have a chance to get my affairs in order.

There's my job, school, my friends at The Group. I can't just disappear..." I looked down at myself as Lea stood, took my hand, and gently but firmly pulled me toward my new quarters. "Though it might be a bit hard to prove my identity to some of them as it is!"

"My dear Lora, never underestimate the powers of Necromancy. When you signed that paper, your whole life became as though Lora Covington had always lived it. As of that moment, anyone you knew will now know you as Lora, with two rather obvious exceptions. First, your association with that 'Group' never happened. And second, Janice's husband will still have been Larry Rossman, but you are now Lora Covington. So, should you chance to meet, she won't know you. It's best that way."

"What now?" I asked while my elongated nails fumbling with the robe's backward tiny pearl buttons.

"Take a long hot bath and wash your hair, then we'll see about our Lora becoming a truly beautiful young lady."

She fluttered her fingers toward the bathroom in a shooing motion and there was a splashing sound. Although I'd always preferred showers, a long hot soak suddenly sounded very inviting. And when I went to climb in the tub it was the hottest, most fragrant bubble bath I'd ever seen. Not being particularly adept at using the shampoo and conditioners, I had to follow the bottles' instructions, which, fortunately, were fairly clear. I eventually crawled from the now tepid bath with waterlogged strands plastered down my back almost to my waist.

While drying off, I discovered that the sparse but dark body hair had vanished, and my legs were incredibly smooth and soft. Even my armpits were denuded. Only a very light downy fuzz could be seen on my arms, though hardly noticeable. My skin was soft and creamy smooth all over.

With a towel wrapped turban-like about my wet head, I shrugged on the robe that I'd left hanging on the door, and stepped out to into my new room where 'Aunt' Lea waited still.

Opening the front of the robe, I exposed my chest and rubbed the oddly smooth clear skin. "Lea? Why do different things keep happening to me? I know you and those wizard guys set this up, but it seems to be happening in installments, and at odd times. First my weight loss, then my hair, feet and hands. Now my chest and legs feel like they've been thoroughly shaved or waxed. How far is this gonna go?"

"Okay," I replied grudgingly, sitting on the vanity's padded stool. "But I don't think you've told me everything yet."

Lea remained silent as she removed the towel from my head, and assaulted my abundant new mane. It seemed to take forever, and I never realized until then now torturous removing snarls from long hair can be. My scalp was painfully yanked more than a few times as she worked. But eventually, the combs and brushes slid smoothly through the now only slightly damp strands. Then, she wrapped curlers into the long thick hair, giving my head a bloated porcupine look, and began blasting it all with hot air from a hand-held blow dryer.

"Ohl but You are, my dear! Larry Rossman vanished the instant you signed that document. To me and the world you now ARE Lora Marie Covington, my niece, age nineteen, born in..."

Lea shook her head in dismay. "Why do you insist on using that word? You still don't comprehend the powers at work here, do you? Here, look." She turned me toward the vanity mirror.

What the mirror reflected was a much younger person whose face reflected an unmistakably feminine caste. Upon checking more closely, I figured that face could have been my own as a teenager, but only if I had been born female! Here was more proof that the powers being applied for my 'benefit' were very real, and seemingly omnipotent.

The face was recognizable as mine beneath the jumble curlers, but there were both major and subtler differences. Of course, it was much thinner, no more double chin, but my whole head seemed smaller. The coarse hide form years of shaving and black whisker stubble was gone, replaced by a flawless peaches-and-cream complexion. The squarish chin was now rounded and smooth. Lips were full, nose pert, lashes long, formerly thick bushy brows now arched high and plucked pencil-thin. The cheekbones were high and well defined. The long slender neck now lacked the prominent Adam's apple bulge.

"Good God, Lea..." A naturally high soft tone came easily from my throat. "...and my voice too!" I had a perfectly pitched, natural feminine voice now as well. "It hasn't stopped, has it? How far into this are you taking me?" I breathed anxiously.

"How far do you want to go, Lora?" She put away the dryer and began removing pins and curlers.

Dreamily staring at my new teenage girl's face, my feminine voice said, "If this was just a dream I…I'd want it to go on forever." But it felt all too real, and ..well.., at the time it seemed so easy to just toss away all the pain and aggravation. Now I'm not so sure."

Lea was expertly sweeping a brush through the waves that tumbled thickly over my shoulders. "It's only natural that you feel uncertain at first, but you'll gain confidence quickly. And I'm quite certain that when you've had time to adjust, you'll be amazed at how quickly your confidence with your Lora side will grow. Besides, there is a certain amount of self-determination built into your becoming Lora. In fact, after one more small adjustment, you'll decide for yourself how much farther you'll go."

"Uh..yea, vaguely. I was too surprised by their arrival to pay much attention to what was said, but I do recall him asking about 'using the same triggers as before'."

"You have an excellent memory, my sweet. I must warn you that the only way to counter the invocation is to recall Mardak and Susar, since such action requires their combined powers. But I doubt even I could recall them anytime soon, especially since I know from personal experience that Susar would not readily consent to any such notion.

"Anyway, each 'trigger' controls a particular aspect. Some are automatic, like your hair filling in and its growth. I control most of the others, including the minor ones that altered your arms, legs, voice, and face. Your penmanship was remade when you set the pen to the paper. Of course, there are still a few left, and when appropriate I'll invoke them, however, You will determine their extent. Do you understand?"

Lush thick waves flowed luxuriously over my shoulders. Thinking about what Lea said, I rose from the small stool and stepped in front of the full-length mirror. Loosening the robe, I let it fall to the floor. But some sense of modesty allowed the shorts to stay.

With Lea beside me, I stood staring intently at the androqynous reflection. "You're saying that I can be as female as I wish?"

"I insist that you be Lora, and that means you must live as a woman fulltime. However, to do so, you may be as much of a woman as you wish. I'll demonstrate."

Before I could protest, her eyes closed and she grimaced with concentrated effort, then her eyes popped open suddenly and looked all my reflection, fingers fluttering in the direction of my stomach.

Suddenly, my lower ribs and gut felt like a giant hands were squeezing me like a tube of toothpaste! There was pressure but no pain as my waist visibly contracted by several inches. Within seconds, my midriff had narrowed dramatically, my torso sloping inward from the armpits to a newly diminutive waist. My hips seemed oddly narrow there between those feminine legs, and that slim waist. The shorts now hung much lower and very loosely.

"I hear and obey," Lea snickered and repeated the squinting finger motion again.

My hipbones extended sideways as though that same giant was stretching them apart, while my ass plumped out. In seconds I had a perfect hourglass figure!!

Trying hard to breath normally, my soprano voice croaked, "J..Jeez, Lea, I only thought about it! That's one damned sensitive hair-trigger'"

"Didn't I say you'd have some amount of control yourself? It's rather minor, but gets you personally involved in the process so you're more likely to appreciate and be satisfied with the results. Now, it appears that our lovely Lora needs some plumbing work, don't you think?" She arched an eyebrow and aimed her gaze at my crotch.

Granted, my fantasy woman was certainly ALL female, but Lea was aiming her efforts at the very essence of my threatened masculine existence. If she did what was obviously her intent , there would be no going back, EVER!

"Now, my sweet, precious Lora, let's not be that way. Just remember that magic done can be undone. Though, as I've said, it's a bit more difficult in the other direction. Why not try it for a while? Then, if you're not truly happy, I'll make the unprecedented effort to have everything undone."

"Of course I promise. But don't forget, back when we first discussed my 'treatment', I guaranteed that you would be satisfied with the results, didn't I?"

"Just remember how wonderful you felt in your wedding dream, my dear. Wouldn't you love to experience such loveliness for real?"

With incredible clarity my memory felt the dreamy touch of satin and lace against soft smooth flesh, the whispering sigh of the floor-length gown against MY legs, flared hips contained in cool lace panties that pressed firmly into the flatness between ... "

"Oh God!" I gasped, realizing that an appropriate 'trigger' had kicked in, and I was all too conscious of its target.

With considerable effort, I refrained from shoving my dainty fingers indelicately into the ill-fitting shorts. Beneath, I distinctly felt my testicles shrink as they were seemlingly absorbed into my groin. Their container flattened against my crotch then puffed slightly while my cock shrank and disappeared into the same general area. Very low in my groin there were ill-defined movements that pushed upwards into my lower abdomen then stopped. Was I female inside now too? Probabl!y, including vagina, cervix, uterus, ovaries, clit (x-penis glans), and all the other plumbing required to emulate a functional female,

Meanwhile, the cotton shorts transmuted into a pair of white satin panties. They crawled up to snugly clutch the new curvature of my high-set waist, and expanded to firmly encase my vastly distended hips and buttocks.

Mouth agape, my wide-eyed gaze shifted between my reflection and Lea's. I felt numb, torn between anger at what had just been done and joy that it had.

"Well, Lora," my 'benefactor' said, "your almost there. And for this last part I'm giving you the most control. All you have to do is think again about your lovely bridal fantasy."

Unable to avoid her encouraging instruction, my thoughts flashed back to that fanciful ceremony. I imagined looking down and seeing those full corpulent mounds exposed above the white satin and lace. The memory was so vivid I could almost actually feel their substantial masses straining against the bodice's sizable but still inadequate containment. Although hidden beneath the material, the twin nubs that tipped those prodigious spheres felt tingly sensitive to the pressure of being pushed firmly against the smooth, tightly compressing material.

When I looked up at the mirror, my eyes were drawn nervously to the two itchy nipples that were already the size of my thumbnail and stuck out a full half an inch. Suddenly, the tiny tan circles surrounding them flared outward into two-inch-wide areolas, like brown syrup flowing covering a mountain peak. Beneath those expanded twin circles the pale flesh slowly began to swell, pushing outward into small hillocks, growing to become conical mounds, expanding into mountainous masses that tugged heavily at my chest. Those new breasts looked huge and they were definitely heavy, yet they were firm enough not to require support. Looking down, they appeared enormous, sticking out a mile from my chest.

I momentarily regretted my penchant for the 'full-breasted look'. Still, on the woman in the mirror they were luxuriant and provocatively sensual, large, yes, but high and firm. And their abundance was not overly out of proportion to the rest of her.

Time stopped as I gazed for endless moments upon the beautiful naked young woman that Lea and her wizards had made of me. Considering how quickly my new exquisitely female form had been created, it was extremely difficult for my male-oriented mind to grasp the reality that besieged my senses. Whatever battle may have been waged as my maleness struggled for its identity was over before it ever really began. Those old well-used 'Lora' fantasies of being a lovely woman, enjoying beauty and sensual femininity, were now REAL. They attacked without mercy, defeating my rapidly deflating male psyche in record time.

More quickly than I would have ever thought possible, the feminine personality of 'Lora' blossomed forth with such vitality that the individual who had once been Larry Rossman, disgruntled, frustrated, more than a bit kinky, was abruptly tossed into the mental cloas which had formerly housed his distaff persona. With a flourish, Lora secured 'him' in a small mental closet with a psychic padlock, consigning 'Larry' to memory, never again to show his balding obese presence to the world.

Tearing my attention from the ravishing creature I'd become, I faced Lea and returned her brilliant smile.

It was growing harder to stay calm as I was assailed by sensations of incredible clarity and fantastic wonder. There was a rising glow of excitement as long copious locks of hair brushed across the engorged sensitive tips of soft breast flesh, causing those twin nubs to emit a low-grade charge like tiny shock waves radiating from each nipple into the swollen masses beneath.

My delicate fingers traced down along my slim waist, over my protruding hips' feminine flare, to thickened thighs, then moved to discover the moist warmth of my new 'tunnel' and the incredibly sensitive nub that marked its entrance.

Lea broke my trance like inspection. "Uh, maybe you better try on some clothes, my dear." She glanced only briefly at where my hand was nestled between my plumped thighs. "I'm no prude, you understand. I know you'll want to get familiar with your new self. But maybe you could be persuaded to save that for later, huh?"

"Oh... yeah.., (puff)…Aunty!" Reluctantly my fingers withdrew from their unladylike position as Lea draped the long-forgotten robe over my shoulders, and led me toward one of the bureaus.

"You've been provided with an extensive wardrobe, my sweet." She began displaying the contents of several drawers. "Here's a rather large variety of panties, ...and here are your bras. Slips and corselets are here, hose and garters..here.."

Then we crossed to the spacious walk-in closet. It was almost as big as the bathroom! On the floor along one wall, shoe racks held an incredible array of female footwear, and not one pair had heels less than two inches high! The hangers above were crammed with blouses and skirts, all matched and arranged by color. On the opposite rack hung an equally profuse variety of dresses and gowns, ranging from a simple housedress to a strapless backless evening gown of silver lame that probably glowed in the dark. The shorter back wall was occupied by one of those closet organizers that you see ad's for in magazines and catalogs. It was a sturdy structure of slats and shelves that held purses and/or handbags, and a few pair of high-heeled boots.

Lea interrupted my gawking by pulling me into the bathroom where she showed me a small closet stocked with linen, towels, wash clothes, and other feminine toiletries that included a Lady Shick razor, first aid supplies, soap, shampoos, deodorant, and powders, just like the hodgepodge Janice had cluttered our bathroom with. On the small closet's floor sat a scale and a full-size portable hair dryer in its plastic case. And in a drawer beside the sink, Lea pointed out the tampons, pads, shields.

"You'll be needing these, young lady." Her smile seemed somewhat condescending, and I could tell she had a rather old-fashioned reservation about discussing 'nature's curse'. "Uh, you'll have to decide for yourself which protection you'll prefer.., and here..," she pulled open the mirror to expose three narrow glass shelves, "..are the aspirin, Mydol, Correctol, ...and these." With an twinkle in her eye and a smirk on her lips Lea handed me a flat oblong plastic container with bulges in its surface. I stared wide-eyed at the tiny white pills arranged in that distinctive pattern of numbered rows, and numbly shook my head. Damn, birth control pills!

"Take one," Lea suggested, filling a class with water, "..and every morning from now on. Make it a habit, I insist. And be sure to read the directions."

Somehow, a small white pill was in my hand, then in my mouth and being washed down my throat. *Lea, I won't..."

She stopped my objection by waggling a finger in my face. "Don't you dare tell me you won't need them. You do, and you will! It takes a full cycle before you're protected, and as soon as you've done all the exploring you can manage on your own, those raging hormones in your beautiful young body will have you wanting a man who's willing to help you explore further."

"Yes, Lora, you'll want to. It's only natural that you should, just like any other young woman. I'm not so prudish that I don't appreciate today's more liberal ideas about sex, you know." Her fingers tapped the plastic container in my palm. "All I ask is that you take these until you're better able to decide for yourself what you want. The alternatives could be terribly complicated, and would likely have lasting arid damaging effects on you. Take your time, my dear, there's lots of that, you know."

Confirming that I had indeed taken the first piII, she returned the case to the cabinet. "Now, don't forget to take one every single day. If you miss, you'll have start again. like you just did, and remain celibate for a full month, or longer, if you want a better safety margin."

What was really amazing, above and beyond the albeit incredibly extravagant physical transformation, was the fact that I was now, at least on paper, nineteen years old! And psychologically, if not physically (which was open for debate too), I was a virgin! But I pushed that thought away REAL FAST!

With Lea's urging, we returned to the dressers where I pulled on a pair of pink high-cut panties that Lea selected. The waistband hooked snugly over my prominent hipbones, where their positioning felt really strange, well above my old 'normal' waistline where they even covered my navel. I was even more conscious of the glossy translucent fabric pressing into the 'flatness' between my legs.

I stared in the vanity mirror at the beautiful reflection. "What now?" I seemed to always be asking that question, but couldn't think of a better one when I wanted to know what was about to happen next.

"For now, I'll fix your hair again, then you probably should get into some clothes, before we have lunch and discuss your future. Later, maybe I'll give you a makeup lesson."

I nodded inanely and again sat at the vanity while Lea pulled a brush through the mass of brown hair that covered my shoulders. Working at my scalp first, she caused some sharp tugging pains before the brush once again pulled smoothly through the thick waves. Then she parted it down the middle and draped one half forward over my shoulder where it fell across my exposed breast and almost brushed my lap.

"Long hair can be a nuisance," she warned, handing me a brush of my own. "You'd better start learning to care for it. Work out all the knots then keep brushing until it shines. The traditional rule is one hundred strokes, and that's after the tangles are cleared. Yours is so long and thick it might take more."

"A hundred? That'll take all day!" I groaned, dragging the brush through draping strands. The sharp bristles rasped over sensitive breast flesh, raking across the fat tender nipple. "Ouch!"

Lea laughed. "Here, silly, hold it away from you... like this. That rather substantial bosom of yours will definitely take getting used to."

Rubbing at my injured teat helped, but was also a decidedly provocative movement by the girl in the mirror. Stopping reluctantly, I held a fist full of hair and brushed at it while a twinge knotted my nipple into a plump hard knob.

My arms felt like rubber from the brushing by the time Lea threaded a wide white ribbon behind my neck and tied it in a bow atop my head to hold the hair out of my face. I was constantly aware of the gathered weight lying against my bare back, or brushing across a shoulder whenever I turned my head. Then I was tossing my head to get it back in place, or pulling loose strands away from my face. When I chanced to glimpse these gestures in a mirror, they appeared distinctly feminine.

"Whew, that's hard work," Lea complained good-naturedly. "Now, while I put together some lunch, you can get presentably attired." When my only response was a blank look, she added, "Lora, my dear, please get yourself dressed for lunch.'

When she'd gone, I pulled my eyes away from the Lady Godiva image and turned my attention to the challenge of deciding what and how much to wear. Always in the past I'd had such a meager collection available for 'dressing' that the question of what to wear never arose. Now, it was a major problem. I'm not (and never was) color bIind so that wasn't a factor, but the dazzling variety of underwear alone was mind-boggling. I wondered if maybe lunch could be avoided, or at least delayed, while I worked through my huge new wardrobe. But, no, Lea had been very specific. I could already hear her distant preparations, and the clock on the nightstand told me that the noon hour had already passed.

Underwear was an obvious place to start. But the choices were so confusing in bras alone, with the diversity of colors and designs rivaling those in a large department store's lingerie section. It was a major struggle just selecting a double-barreled 'container' for my prodigious bosom. I even toyed momentarily with the idea of going without, just for kicks, if for no other reason than to continue experiencing those delicious sensations produced by even the smallest movements. My unfettered breasts were never still, constantly bouncing and jiggling like thick Jell-O. But such a voluminous superstructure demanded support over the long term, or gravity and the ravages of time would pull them down to my knees.

I grabbed the first pink bra I could find, hoping it would match the panties, then frowned at its flimsiness. The cups were only half-sized, and all lace at that. Oh, what the hell!

I stuck my arms through the thin straps and shrugged them up over my shoulders. It took a bit of fumbling to get it fastened properly, but as I worked at it I marveled at my improved dexterity which allowed me to touch my fingers with one arm over my shoulder and the other reaching up from behind. But I couldn't quite get the hooks lined up right, while my melon-sized teats were askew in the cups. Then I remembered that Janice would lean over to settle her jugs into position, while reaching back for the fasteners. It worked. I was extremely pleased with myself as I took a quick look in the mirror, then stopped short! My impressive frontage was supported well enough with some of the weight transferred to the straps, relieving the strain on my chest muscles. But the small cups barely concealed my nipples completely, and the resulting cleavage was cavernous.

I dug through the stockings. Garters and hose were sexier and more appealing to my old transvestite inclinations and I knew garters went under panties, but managing them would take some doing. Pantyhose were more practical and easier, so I grabbed a packet. Hmm, do panties go over or under hose? Well, I could try them under the panties next time, …or maybe ask Lea. Then I promptly 'laddered' them with my nails while trying to pull them on. It took some practice, and three mangled pairs before figuring out how to avoid getting my long nails hung up in the sheer threads. When finally in place, hooked securely about my hips and expanded buttocks, the sheer flexible net looked painted on, and gave my legs a glossy shine.

Leaving the slips and other intimates for another time, I was ready to choose a dress, but which one. The closet was stuffed with such a range of styles and lengths! Here again, conservative seemed safest, at least for now. Sticking with the underwear's 'girlish pink' theme made it a lot easier to select a sleeveless floral cotton print with a scooped neck and snap front. I dropped it over my head, secured the front, then pulled my long mane from beneath the collar where it had been trapped. The dress fit perfectly against my svelte figure, snug at waist and bodice, where about an acre of lovely white breast flesh was exposed by the low-cut neckline. The full skirt was hemmed to about an inch above my above the knees.

The assortment of shoes was intimidating too, and I couldn't find a single pair with functionally low heels. Everything was 2- inches or higher. There was even a pair of six-inch black stilettos that could have come straight out of a bad bondage movie. Discarding the possibility of altogether avoiding shoes, and accepting the inevitable, I retrieved a pair of pink (naturally) three-inch leather pumps and stuffed my stockinged feet into them (they fit perfectly, of course). Then I tried circumnavigating the room to get the feel of walking in them.

After moving into the upstairs apartment, I had acquired a pair of sexy four-inch slings, but they turned out to be almost two sizes too small, and made my feet and calves hurt so much I rarely wore them.

Now, though, with the right physiology, and a proper fit, those same muscles hardly objected as I pranced about the room. Before long I barely noticed their height, as I was too busy noticing that my new anatomy was adapting deliciously, my curvaceous legs balanced and generous hips oscillating deliciously!

In nervous anticipation, I opened the door. Just a few paces down the hallway, I had an anxiety attack that twisted my stomach into a knot. The staccato click of my heels on the hardwood floor, the unfamiliar sway of hips, jiggling breasts (despite the bra's minimal support), and the flutter of long hair against my neck, all combined to agitate a growing sense of dualism, much like what I always felt when 'dressed'. My old male self was pounding on the door of his cell, screaming to be noticed, and making me to feel like I was back in drag again, still male beneath that incredibly realistic exterior.

But those same sensations also testified irrefutably that this particular disguise went to the bone, probably even down to the most basic genetic level. 'Mr. Macho' fell silent as I forced a smile on my lovely young face to mask the trepidation beneath.

"Ah, there you are, My Dear," she said with a huge smile. Then, she pulled me into an firm hug, and an affectionate kiss on the cheek. (I was profoundly aware of our breasts pressing together.) "Hmmm., your taste in clothes is hardly flashy, but quite functional all the same. Let's have lunch and we'll discuss your duties."

"My duties?" I squeaked, plopping my full buns into a chair. My bust jostled noticeable with a heavy tug at each bra strap. Before me was a salad, a glass of milk, and half a sandwich.

"Yes, Lora, my pet," she said between bites. "As my niece, and as a member of this household, it's only natural that you should share in the chores. First, though, we'll try to get you caught up on some of the things you've missed by not having grown up female. You've a lot to learn about being a young lady in today's world, and it's best that you do so as quickly as possible."

My stomach growled so I played with the salad while she lectured me on what was expected of her new niece.

Since Lea's volunteer work and social schedule took her away from the house most days and some evenings, I was now responsible for the general housework, including our combined laundry. I would be expected to be share her charitable interests, whenever possible. Specifically, I would be volunteering at the hospital as a "candy striper" every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon starting in two weeks.

Added to all that, and more importantly, Lea would provide me with much needed 'basic training' on makeup and hair care, to catch me up with what a typical nineteen-year-old would know.

Then she dropped a real bombshell by declaring that I would soon be enrolled at a local beauty college to "further my education". If I wished, I could also attend business school, where I could acquire secretarial skills. Lea was certainly a 'traditionalist'. No Women's Lib for her! And apparently not for me either, which was no small loss since I'd always thought that particular 'movement' generally created more problems and caused more harm than it did good.

Dumbfounded at her plans for me, I did no more than nod politely and fiddle with my food, surprised that I was satisfied with only a few small bites. Lea had finished and was putting her dishes in the dishwasher while I was still pushing my salad around the plate.

I looked at my teenage reflection and turned to answer. "Yes, I do. After what you've done I can hardly disappoint you, now can I?" My grin showed even pearly white teeth. "You've given me youth, security, and fulfilled my deepest wish. You bet I'll be happy! I'm not all that thrilled with the drudgery of housework, but I'd have had that living alone anyway. Besides, if I have to learn to be female, that certainly comes with the territory."

"It does, indeed. And there's one other thing I'll ask of you," she added. Taking down a large box from the closet's shelf, she placed it on the bed and lifted the lid. Within lay a profusion of black satin and white lace. What she laid out on the bed for me to see was a French maid's costume: shiny black satin dress with ultra-short skirt and white lace trim; heavily starched, snow-white stiffly starched crinolines; and a black cap also trimmed in white lace. There was also a black lace garter belt, fishnet stockings, and black patent-leather pumps with a mirror finish and five-inch skyscraper heels.

"My God, Lea," I gasped, "that's the sexiest, outfit I've ever seen! And you want me to wear it? Ha... I'd be arrested for indecent exposure!"

Lea smiled with her entire face. "Yes, my dear, it is daring and sexy, and it's for you. But I'll only ask you to wear it on very special occasions, which aren't often, like the rare formal dinner parties I have here for my most intimate acquaintances. You won't be arrested either, since you'll be simply scrumptious in it. Besides, you'll probably love wearing it just as much as others will enjoy seeing you in it, myself including. Andrea got a real kick out of what it did for her figure, and my male quests were ogling her and constantly sneaking in a healthy pinch at every opportunity too, I'm afraid. The other ladies were simply green with envy," she laughed heartily.

Noticing my gawking stare, she added, "Oh, don't worry, it'll be some time before I'll ask you to be seen in it. You'll need to learn much about feminine ways before you'll be able to do this costume the justice that both it and you deserve. When you can wear it and take pleasure in how delectable it feels on your body, and the effect it has on those around you, then you and I will both know that your transition into womanhood is complete. In fact, given your past…uh… proclivities, I wouldn't be a surprised if you asked me sometime soon to try it on. Your personality very likely contains a penchant toward exhibitionism which this uniform will fulfil quite impressively."

A lot of hard work lay ahead, so I pushed her comments to the back of my beleaguered mind. With an expansive wave at my new residence, I asked, "So, where do I start."

"You've started already, but this...." From one of the vanity's drawers she pulled a large catalog-sized book titled, "Cosmetology; The Art of Beauty, ".. should occupy you for a while. You've proven to be a good student in your studies, so this shouldn't be too difficult. Have you ever tried makeup?"

"Hmm.., well, no time like the present." She gently took my chin in her hand and turned my head from side to side, inspecting my face from every angle. "My, but you're a lovely young lady, Lora! When you've mastered some basic makeup skills, you'll become quite beautiful, I'm sure. Now," she tapped the book which now sat on the vanity, "..see what you can learn from this. You should have everything you need right here. I'll be back later to check on your progress." With that, she again left me to fend for myself.

I wanted desperately to ask her to help as she had with my hair. But, just as when she'd left me to dress myself, it was apparent, she wanted me to do most of this 'indoctrination' on my own, at my own pace.

The thick book was full of illustrated step-by-step instructions on the fine art of feminine face painting. There were innumerable variations of 'presentation' depending on the time of day, the occasion, color and style of hair and clothes, and a host of other factors that determined what, how many, where, how much to use!

Whenever taking up a new project or challenge, I always took great pride in doing it right, and to the best of my ability. So, I spent the next several hours following the detailed steps of each section, and struggling to 'put on' my face in various ways. My 'makeup session' was interrupted only briefly by a few trips to the toilet, and discovering that such a basic human function can be an entirely unique experience. The sensation of 'need' was deeper, kind of a pressure in the vaginal area. And it was harder to delay than before. Then there was the actual 'event'. First, I had to clear away all that feminine finery: skirt hiked up around my waist, panties and hose pulled down to my knees. Then, of cours, actually being forced to sit just to pee, and wiping afterwards, all which had been optional before. Everything was different about it, the stream's exit point, angle, and the sudden forceful volume, and it was faster too. Overall, I found it profoundly less convenient than standing.

By the time Lea announced dinner, I was rather pleased with my progress. I wasn't poking my eye with the mascara brush anymore, and had become reasonably adept at duplicating several of the book's illustrations.

But after hours of putting on the various cosmetics, then cleaning them off to start again, my face felt like it had been thoroughly scrubbed by a Brillo pad. When Lea called, more foundation was needed to cover my abused face than when I started. And it had taken me almost all that time to learn how to lean forward or reach over my monumental bust so my arms weren't constantly rubbing against my breasts.

My efforts had taken a great deal of attention, of course, but I still found it impossible to avoid the dramatic sensations coming from my new body. Whenever I brushed against my encased mammaries, or glimpsed a reflected image of exposed mounds and deep cleavage, I'd stop and stare down in admiration and wonder at my ballooning frontage, narrow waist, and dramatically flared hips. Several times, I paused just to run my dainty fingers over my curvaceous, spreading hips and thighs. I sensed how firmly my new uncluttered crotch pressed against the stool's padded seat, and how decorously my legs could be crossed without male plumbing in the way. This was all very disconcerting, but positively delightful, and made it very hard to concentrate on the chore at hand. And it was a chore, no doubt about that!

Eventually Lea checked on my progress. "You're doing quite nicely, Lora dear. Now wipe off that hooker face you've painted on yourself and do it up lightly for dinner. It'll be ready by the time you are. Afterward you'll be free to bury yourself in your new wardrobe, and tomorrow we'll continue your education."

I dutifully scrubbed away my efforts (to the further dismay of my abused skin) and did the basics -light foundation, blue shadow, mascara, pencil on brows, quick swipe of blush, and pink lipstick (at least I'd learned that much since I still wore the pink dress). Thus 'prepared', I hurried into the kitchen.

I should have been famished, but another small salad and a single cup of pekoe tea were enough to quell my appetite. Habit and my mind argued for more than that scanty meal, but I bit back the mild complaint when Lea anticipated my comment and explained that I must watch my figure much more closely, so that others would too (heehee). I thought I'd been doing just that for the past several hours, but took her words to heart and was content to chew lettuce and sip tea. After all, I didn't want my luscious new body going to fat! (If it were yours, neither would you!)

Like a girl on a shopping spree, which is exactly how it felt, I spent the rest of the evening modeling my new feminine wardrobe before the mirror - lingerie, shoes, the works, often with Lea's admiring presence. The underwear included skimpy 'tap' panties, briefers, half and full slips of various lengths and styles, and even a few incredibly sexy bustiers and corselets. There was even an incredibly sexy Victorian-style corset with such a tiny waist it looked like it would cut me in half.

The bras, as I'd previously noted, ranged from a lace confection with thin spaghetti straps that was virtually transparent, to a heavy cotton "full support reducer". All were in the 36-C or D range, and most of the cups were only sculpted for half or three-quarter 'coverages' that promised to expose extensive acreages of breast flesh.

Like everything else, pantyhose and stockings were available in a rainbow of colors from sheer-to-waist to French-cut 'off black', and garters, naturally (somewhat old-fashioned, but terribly exotic and sexy). There were a few swimsuits as well, though all but one were miniscule bikini's in white, red, leopard (!!), and pink (of course). The lone one-piece suit was a pink and blue marbled number with a deep-cut neckline that was so thin that you could count the dimples on my expanded areolas.

The shoes could have stocked any moderate sized store, and there wasn't a flat sole in the lot. There was a whole spectrum of styles and colors, even a pair of red sling pumps with five-inch heels that resembled an exotic version of Dorothy's famous ruby slippers in Oz. It was astonishing how easily my long shapely legs adapted to even the highest heels. While working my way through them, the mirror testified that the higher the heel the longer and more curvaceous my legs appeared, and the sexier was my carriage. The more elevated shoes also caused considerably greater gyrations of my pelvis, and I was constantly aware that navigating in them made my breastworks bounce and jiggle even more heavily. Once, when I tried on a white sheath mini-dress with matching pumps, the wiggle of my ass and quaking chest reminded me of something. Then I knew -- Marilyn Monroe prancing along the train platform in the classic "Some Like it Hot"! The similarity was so shocking, despite my brown and much longer hair. I had to sit down to stop shaking. But my eyes stayed riveted to my provocative reflection.

Much later, with eyes drooping and body thoroughly wearied, I selected a green and white teddy. The matching panties pulled smoothly over my hips, and diaphanous top dropped down over my soft pliant new body like a dreamy cloud. I reluctantly hauled my voluptuous curves toward the bed.

Almost immediately, I got inquisitive. I tweaked a fat nipple and got a tingling spasm of electric warmth. Soon one set of delicate fingers overflowed with the silken alabaster ramparts that bulged from my chest, while the other hand finding its way to the warmth between my legs.

I explored, finding the new clitoral nub, and discovering it's incredible sensitivity, like having the glans of my uncircumcised dong stuck flat (or almost so) against my crotch. Long slim digits, then a long-handled hairbrush explored the depths of my new womanhood, and very quickly introduced me to the wonders of the female orgasm. It was so sudden and unexpected that at first I didn't realize what it was, yet somehow the experience of such a fantastic explosion of fiery glory, something seemed to be missing.

With a rush of renewed heat that flared through my breasts and belly, I realized what wasn't there - a man! At that instant, what I wanted more than anything in the world was to be made love to as thoroughly and completely as only a man could. I'd never had a gay experience in my life, nor given serious consideration to that 'alternative', despite a few blatant offers by a couple of the raving 'fruits' who attended the Group meetings occasionally. What I felt at that moment was different, totally "hetero" in nature. Hell, I was a woman now, right? So was it wrong for me to want a man's lips on mine? ..his hungry mouth ravishing my corpulent breasts? ...a long thick baton plunging deep into my moist tunnel, knocking heatedly at the door of my newly installed womb? Wasn't I being the horny woman that I should be by wanting his wiggly-saturated onslaught exploding into the new-sprung uterine grotto within my belly to meet their destiny and fulfill mine?

[Whew! I do get carried away sometimes, don't I? Maybe it'd be nice to go wake up ... No, he's had a long hard day. Better let him rest, for now anyway, and finish this narrative.]

So, to continue, that was the first day of the rest of my life as an attractive young woman named Lora Marie Covington. A rather startling and magnificent beginning, I must say. And I can never in five lifetimes thank Aunt Lea enough for giving me such a wonderful gift, a new lease on life. Although I am trying in my own small way to repay her.

Every waking moment brought a new experience, or something else that was needed to further my indoctrination into the wonderfully exciting and sometimes difficult world of womanhood. After all, to the world, Miss Lora M. Covington had recently graduated from high school (Lea even had the papers to prove it, including; a birth certificate, Social Security card, high school transcripts-and even a driver's license!!), and such a young lady would have already become thoroughly adept at and would mostly take for granted such things as clothes, hair, and all the other female things that constituted her existence. So, my education was concentrated, thorough, well rounded (like m, teehee) hard work, and I had to absorb it quickly out of self-defense!

Lea kept me so busy, I hardly had time to consider the lovely sensations of my sumptuous body. With considerable attention to detail, she proceeded to explain the fundamentals of modern housekeeping. I was introduced to the complicated (to me) drudgery of laundering femme dainties, mostly by hand since the aging washer and dryer were a bit hard on nylon and silk). I was also given a short but thorough tour of the kitchen before Lea abruptly put me to work practicing the fine art of manicures and pedicures.

That same afternoon, she escorted me on my first public outing when we made a quick trip to the grocer. It had to happen sometime, of course. But the-prospect was almost as hard to deal with as if Janice had thrown me out in the that fateful night while still in her old clothes.

Endeavoring to fight the anxiety that engulfed me, I spent a good deal of time deciding what to wear after shrugging off the peasant blouse, A line skirt, add black pumps that I'd been wearing since morning. Opting to stick with my current underwear (lacy strapless bra, sheer white nylon panties, and sheer-to-waist pantyhose), I sorted through the clutter for a long time before simply grabbing something from the rack, with my eyes shut. The skirt of the white-on-white cotton-poly blend dress had triple-tier flounces, piping around the plunging neckline, and extended sleeves. It wasn't exactly your average everyday attire, but I didn't want to go through the hassle of looking for something else, especially when Lea impatiently stuck her head in the door and found me standing in my panties, staring into the wild nowheres. I had some trouble managing the keyhole buttons up the back, but at least my newfound dexterity made them easy to reach. The push-up bra I'd worn all day offered considerable terrain for visual inspection and the short hem exposed at least three inches of thigh above my knees. Two-inch white sling pumps rounded out the set.

I even decided to try some jewelry, selecting a small teardrop amethyst pendant on a silver chain. The stone sat exactly at the upper tip of my awesome cleavage. Then I started sorting through the earrings and discovered that they all had posts or hooks for pierced ears! Out of curiosity, I checked my ears in the mirror and found that Lea's fancy 'make over' of my anatomy had even include that too! Both lobes were pierced - twice each!! Jeez, how could I have missed that? Especially when I'd spent so much time at such close quarters with that mirror during makeup sessions. (Lea was surprised too, when I mentioned it to her later.) At least the holes were well healed, so I avoided going through the aggravation that new punctures would have entailed.

A quick dab of rose lip-gloss, a brush of the hair, and my new, Junoesque femaleness stepped out into the world.

After the second week, Lea kept her promise and enrolled me at one of the local beauty colleges. I jumped into the 'Hair Stylist' and Cosmetology courses with gusto, and graduated with honors at the end of the abbreviated three-month schedule.

By then, of course, I had the dubious 'honor' of needing to learn the inelegant art of feminine hygiene!

When I found that first dark red stain in my panties, it scared the hell out of me. Lea said I reacted just like any young girl's usually does at her first menses. Its onset also was the final irrefutable proof (which was hardly needed by then) that I was absolutely, totally and completely a female! And Lea proceeded to instruct my on the options available: pads, tampons, and panty shields.

Fortunately, it seemed I would not need the Midol since there was little discomfort. I noticed some mild cramps and swelling ankles, but hadn't recognized them as indicators of THAT. But in hindsight, they was quite distinctive for about two days before, though my periods turned out to be low in volume, of short duration (about three days), and thus quite manageable, for which I was extremely grateful, given the fact that it could have been a lot worse.

Having completed beauty school, Lea again had her way and I entered business college and took up studies to become a legal secretary. It was much harder and far more demanding since I had to learn skills I'd never been exposed to before, especially shorthand. It was like learning a foreign language, at which I had been singularly unsuccessful in the past. Lea adamantly refused to assist my studies with her magic. But, again, I excelled, mostly to spite 'Aunty'. Then, since my duties at home took so little of my time after I'd mastered the routine stuff, Lea got me a part-time clerical position at her lawyer's offices, which included some light secretarial duties.

All this activity would have drastically curtailed the social life of any average young lady of my assumed age, and that 'average' gal would probably have been thoroughly upset that her social calendar was in such a sorry state. Mine was nonexistent! And I didn't mind a bit.

Now, don't get the notion that my life was dull. It wasn't! Lea made sure of that by organizing frequent teas, luncheons, or dinners for small groups of friends, which included practically everyone of any consequence in the community. My primary function was, of course, to help with whatever preparations were required, and be a good co-hostess, since Lea wanted me visible and took exceptional pride in introducing her 'niece' to anyone and everyone. For a few very special occasions, I even wore that saucy little maid's uniform to spice up the festivities. Naturally, Lea was right, I-dearly loved the sensuous feelings that stirred my bosom while mincing about serving drinks or refreshing a drink, and reveled in the reaction of those who enjoyed the delectable picture I presented in that ultra-brief confection!

But my social situation, exclusive of Lea, and my re-education, was a vast wasteland, devoid of any independent life of my own. Oh, if I'd been so inclined, there were plenty of offers, especially once I started moving about less self-consciously and mixing with people at the beauty school or business college. In fact, there were more than a few outright propositions, which necessitated my rapid education in the unique art of repelling such ardent advances. Despite the revealing nature of my entire wardrobe, I spurned all comers (yuck!), which quickly earned me the dubious label of "cock teasing prude" among the young male crowd.

Conversely, I would often lie in bed late at night with my favorite brush-handle shoved between my legs and fantasizing about the real thing! No matter how hard or for how long I tried, never again did I quite duplicate that glowing orgasmic height achieved that first time, and what small orgasmic hillocks I could achieve were becoming progressively weaker. Was I burning myself out? It wasn't hard to figure out what was really happening. The obvious fact was that I'd have to mend my ways soon and rid myself of the 'frigid' reputation I had acquired, or I'd end up a horny, frustrated old maid. I didn't want that, but the alternative was almost as frightening! The mere thought of sex with a man chilled my spine and produced goose flesh, sending conflicting tremors of fear/desire through my heaving jugs and twitching twat. But dealing with a man on a intimate level as a woman was unknown territory. Compared to that, the social intercourse was easy!

Lea once more came to the rescue, and the way she "played Cupid" was almost as flabbergasting as her 'bewitchment' of me.

The upstairs apartment had remained empty after I'd 'vacated' to new downstairs rooms, and while we devoted our full attention to my 're-education', since Lea didn't want any of the complications that a renter might cause. So I was quite surprised to arrive home one day to find that same old "Apartment For Rent" sign posted in the front window.

Lea was in the parlor (her favorite room), with her knitting (my first lessons on that was to start that evening), and gave her a girlish peck on the cheek that left a scarlet smear. "Hi, Aunty, you finally renting the apartment?"

"It's about time, don't you think?" She peeked slyly over her glasses. "And if the new resident is a reasonably attractive young man, maybe we can convince him to take our little weight program, eh?" Her wink made me grin widely as my imagination ran wild, then she cooled my jets quickly by adding, "Better yet, you might decide he's the one who'll satisfy your curiosity."

"What do you mean, Auntie?" I quipped innocently, but the blush under the blush on my cheeks probably rivaled the reddest rose in her precious garden as I fidgeted nervously. All I needed was a hunk of a man living upstairs while I lay in bed staring at the ceiling that separated us. Whew!

"Don't you put on airs with ne!" Lea scolded. "You know perfectly well what I mean, my sweet lovely little sex-starved wench." Then she sighed heavily and turned back to her knitting. "The whole idea's probably moot anyway since someone's already contacted me about the rooms, and I'm sure she'll take it."

"Yes, Lora, and she's coming by after dinner tonight, so be on your best behavior, Dear," she warned. "Sometimes you forget to show the proper ladylike respect for older folks that a young Iady should."

"I'll do my best, Ma'am," I executed a deep curtsey, "but it's so hard when my mental age is almost forty years. However, I'll make an extra special effort to be a sweet little girl. So, who's this perspective tenant? Some ancient old widow who will bore me to death with stories about her grandkids? Or is she a pretty college coed who'll be my extra-special girlfriend?" I chortled. "What?"

"None of the above, you imp. She's a childless divorcee of about thirty-six, and I've known her for most of her life. Now stop your prattle and go start dinner while I finish this row."

Usually I'm curious about our guests, but didn't pursue the subject. Later, when I answered the doorbell's ring, I deeply regretted the oversight. My heart felt like a third hard lump on my chest and my spine iced over.

Seeing my ex-wife brought back all the old pain and misery in one maddening flash. I fought desperately to maintain a casual facade as my emotions reeled. Worst of all was the terrible memory of almost the last time we been face-to-face - when she found me in her old discarded clothes. Now I stood before her wearing a white silk blouse and black pleated skirt that didn't reach my knees, long hair flowing over my shoulders, half-exposed breasts pointing saucily at her like two howitzers. (I couldn't help but notice hers pointing back, though they were completely covered by her sweater.) All those old feelings of rejection and guilt came crashing back, and it took physical effort to keep them from boiling to the surface.

Janice interrupted my gawking silence. "Uh, Miss, is Lea at home? I'm Janice Rossman, an old friend. She's expecting me."

"Oh, yes, hello, uh…, please come in," I stammered, grinding my teeth a bit too much while making the supreme effort to appear calm and friendly. To Janice I was just the pretty girl who answered the door! Then I realized that, in a very strange way, we'd never met, and calmness swept over me that obliterated the writhing emotions. "We've been expecting you. If you'll follow me, Aunt Lea's in the parlor."

Lea rose when we entered and they shared an affectionate hug. "Well, Janice, it's been quite some time since you checked in on your old Auntie. How have you been, my dear?"

It was strange to realize that I was somewhat jealous of the attention Janice was getting, and even resenting Lea using those same affectionate terms that I'd thought were for me alone. But that was the way she talked to everyone, young and old, stranger or friend, though not quite with that same tone of affection. I quickly brushed away the annoyance, focusing instead on the undeniably peculiar situation in which Lea had placed us all, though Janice was blissfully unaware of it.

Lea turned her towards me and introduced us formally. "Janice, this is my niece, Lora Marie. Lora, this is Janice Hay…Rossman, an old and dear of mine."

We shook hands lightly, and I hoped she didn't notice me trembling. Even as nervous as I was, it was impossible to suppress the sudden desire to prod her a bit. "Nice to meet you, Mz. Rossman."

"It's 'MRS'!" she corrected firmly. "But I'm divorced, so just call me Janice?" She turned before I could respond. "How many nieces do you have, Lea? Seems like every few year there's a new one."

Lea beamed. "Oh, I've never really bothered counting. Besides, their seem to be more added to the list all the time, so why keep track." She gave me a knowing glance that I answered with a wan smile.

What made the strain even worse as the days passed, was that Janice never once indicated in any way that she had even the slightest hint of my old identity. She always dealt with me in the most condescending, especially when it came to giving me advice, which was always unsolicited and unnecessary. Worst of all, she was particularly insistent about convincing me to acquire a more conservative wardrobe. Like a typical teenager, (which I was, sorta), I shrugged off her admonitions, and often reacted by wearing the most revealing miniskirts and low-cut tops, or the briefest shorts and tank tops I could find whenever she was around. Considering the affect of her presence, I thought my behavior justified (and vengeful too, I guess) if it hurried the confrontation I dreaded, but knew was inevitable.

Gradually, the increasing tension of Janice's proximity grew until I began imagining that any minute now, she'd turn to me and say in her most contemptuous arrogant manner, "Larry, why are you maintaining that ridiculous perverted disguise? It even looks like you've grown your own breasts! Why don't you go put an some proper clothes and try to be the man you should be for a change?"

So, when she was around, which were often, were spent by me perceiving us entwined in a kind of permanent cat-and-mouse game during which my 'Lora' facade was constantly threatened by a potentially world-shattering confrontation.

She and Lea often spent many of their evenings together in the parlor, or out puttering in the garden on warm nights. I was usually there too, and got a good deal of perverse pleasure in simply and watching Janice's occasional raking examinations of my prodigious anatomy. It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn I saw a bit of jealousy in the expressions she often failed to mask. I knew not whether it was jealousy of my closeness to Lea, or of my youth and physical beauty, or something else, but she was often eyeing me thoroughly.

It was during one such evening that Lea told Janice a totally fabricated story of 'my' life, while I sat nearby on the high-backed sofa, practicing my most recent knitting lesson with a tangled of yarn heaped in my skirted lap,

"Lora's staying here while she attends school, poor dear. Her father was a career officer in the Marines. He died in that infamous terrorist bombing of the U.S. barracks in Beirut back in the early '80's. Evelyn, my sister and her mother, took her husband's death so badly that she had, complete mental breakdown." (I was trying my best to pout appropriately and produce a tear or two.) "So Lora went to live with her paternal grandparents until she finished high school. Then I invited her to live with me and attend the excellent local business college."

All this was pure bunk, but Lea related it with such emotion and conviction that I almost believed myself. In fact, when she told the parts about my 'daddy's' death and 'my' mother's mental collapse, I was amazed to find myself really crying!

Janice swallowed it hook, line, and sinker, and I must admit I was pleased at the effect my tears had on her. (I suspect Lea's talent had something to do with my sobbing episode, but couldn't prove it.)

As they chattered on, I was paying only slight attention to the conversation, concentrating instead on my inept knitting efforts that seemed to get worse every time I tried fixing them.

Then I heard Lea ask, "So, Jannie, dear," (the first time I heard her pet name for Janice I almost choked) "tell me about you and Mr. Rossman.... Larry, was; it? You seemed happy enough at first."

A pained expression distorted Janice's face. :Yeah, …well, I guess we were," she hedged. There was obvious agitation in her tone and expression, which I almost hoped was from guilt. "You know how important my faith is to me, Lea." (knowing nod) "...and it hurt terribly that Larry wouldn't share that with me. And he finally made it very clear, both in word and deed that he'd never attend services again. So, I decided it would be impossible to live with him on those terms. I actually did love him once ... or wouldn't have let him talk me into marriage without him first joining the congregation. But when even that hope was dashed, our relationship died with it."

Lea's sadness was a sham, I thought, since she knew all this already, but it was for Janice's benefit, Still, it didn't stop her from doing some fishiing. "I'm so sorry, my dear. It must have been simply awful."

Then she proceeded to dump out the whole can of worms. "I never met the fellow, but after hearing of your divorce, I made discreet inquiries and some rather odd information surfaced."

I almost fell out of my seat in surprise before regaining control, but I did manage quite efficiently to further tangle the already hopeless mess in my lap.

Janice's head bobbed up, eyes wide, and her cheeks flushed embarrassment. "W..W..What kind of odd information?" she asked tentatively.

Lea hesitated, obviously for effect, then went on. "Well, after everything you've been through, maybe it's best that you don't know." Her reticence surprised me, until I realized she was playing her own cat-and-mouse game with both of us. She was trying to make Janice face her own pain and guilt. But she was also letting me know in an indirect, that I had some of those same issues to resolve too.

Janice dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "I probably know anyway." Pulling herself erect with visible effort, she added, "You found out Larry was a pervert, right?"

"Well, not exactly," Lea hedged, flitting a glance in my direction. "But you obviously know about it, so there's no need tri..."

"He was queer, Lea... (sob)..!" my ex-wife bawled suddenly. "All that time I was living in the same house, sharing the same bed with a sick, disgusting pervert! In our own sacred home that man was wearing a dress! Oh, Heaven help me, you can't imagine how dirty and degraded I felt after surprising him there in the living room."

Someone sniggered, and I realized it was me when Janice glared at my faux-pas. "Hey ... that's not so bad, is it?" I interjected lamely. "I mean, guys wear earrings and long hair, don't they? It could have been worse.., like ... he could have been gay, ya know. Yuck!"

"All right, Lora," Lea chided, "that's enough. Janice is our guest and we're here to listen and help, not judge." She reassured my 'ex' by firmly clasping her hands. "Oh, my poor Jannie. It must have been very hard on you, what with Larry's problem, then the divorce. I know how much you were hurt by all that. But life does go on."

Jan appeared to take comfort in Lea's sympathy and seemed to shrug off her pain as she wiped the wet streaks from her face. "You know," she said more calmly, ".even after all the misery and anguish he caused, and the terrible failure I felt when the divorce came through, I cried even harder when my lawyer told me Larry was dead."

"He's what!" My horrified reaction was far too extreme to be justified in a young woman who had supposedly never met the guy. But I couldn't help myself. The shock was too great.

Suddenly, I realized that I had ner asked how Lea had handled Larry Rossman's sudden disappearance. I had, however, pressed her to explain all the papers that proved Lora Covington's existence. But she only diverted my attentions elsewhere, and eventually I just figured she had acquired them via her witchcraft, or through her 'contacts'

Now, despite the sudden shock, all the obvious questions filled my head while Lea explained away my outburst. "Ever since her father's untimely death, Lora's tended to overreact to such things." Then she turned and spoke to me very soothingly, "Lora dear ... please forgive us. Maybe if you knew the details it'd be easier?"

I nodded glumly, easily tailoring my expression to match the image she'd painted of my 'troubled' nature. Besides, that's how I really felt!

"Jan, you're welcome to jump in if I get the basics wrong, okay? So, let's see, as I recall, the news story broke about the time you were so sick, Lora, so you never knew about the accident. I suppose it wouldn't have mattered to you anyway, since you didn't know there was a Mr. Rossman until you met Janice. Apparently, he was driving to a construction site (he was an architect, right Jan? … I thought so.) and lost control of his car in Dupertail Canyon. There was a fire too, as I recall, and even dental records weren't preserved."

Janice cut in. "...B..But they found what was left of his wallet, and I identified that little metal business card holder I'd given him for his 40^th birthday. His initials were engraved on it."

Her voice quaked a bit and her eyes glazed over, but there were no tears. "Anyway, he's dead now, so there's no point reviewing his faults, damning though they were. Maybe I still had a tiny bit of hope that he'd repent and come back to me, but of course that's impossible now. After Larry's death our home reminded me too much of better times, so when you asked if I'd be interested in moving here it was a perfect excuse to sell the house and try to rebuild my life."

Well, now I finally knew the 'official' explanation of my late male identity's demise, along with the reason that Janice was living upstairs instead of in 'our' house.

The cord was finally cut. With one fell swoop, in my mind and heart I truly became the young woman named Lora Marie Covington, consigning my pre-diet life and identity to the dimly lit memory vault where it belonged. There was certainly no going back. I was Lora Covington, and that was that!

Lea flashed her best smile. "That is exactly what you should do, Jannie, get yourself back together and regroup. And we're just the ones to help, aren't we, Lora?"

The question caught me off guard. "...uh.., yeah.. sure," I stammered, not really thinking about what she was saying.

Soon afterward, Lea's plans became evident when she began spending a great deal of time in the cellar, which I'd visited only the one time. (She always kept the door locked and hid the key.)

Meanwhile, she encouraged me to socialize with Janice. The prospect was unappetizing, but became much more enjoyable than I expected. With my identity so camouflaged, it was amazing how easily we took to each other. Whether this was Lea's doing was impossible to know, but soon we were the best of friends. Often, in fact, it was took some effort play my new role as Janice's young girl friend, and not reveal my true emotional age. In fact, we grew so close she began to confide in me just as if we'd been sisters!

It was stunning to learn that she was extremely insecure, hiding her shyness beneath that hard mantle of religion, which I resolved to chip away at as the opportunities arose. I spurned her constant pressure to adopt the ultra-conservative cover-it-all fashions she favored (it was almost like she was in mourning all the time!). Instead, I found it ironic that our growing bond was strengthened even further by my encouragement that she make her own nominal (at first) improvements.

To that end, I assailed her 'presentation'. She knew I had recently become a licensed cosmetologist and hair stylist, and surprised me by accepting an invitation to give her a makeover. Unraveling the bun that she perpetually wore, I worked at perming her hair, and giving her face the full treatment, all of which did wonders for her looks. It wasn't easy, since she'd become awfully dumpy over the years, but considering what I'd started with, the results were quite satisfactory,.

She couldn't stop staring in the mirror at the finished product. "I'd never have believed it! You've made me look years younger," she sighed.

"Thanks," I replied. "Cosmetics aren't only a social necessity for us gals, they can be a fountain of youth as well."

"I can certainly see that!" She stood and frowned at her image. "Too bad the same miracle can't be worked so quickly on the rest of me. I could sure use a good diet."

I couldn't help thinking of my own unique experience, and found myself saying, "Yeah, that'd be a step in the right direction. Ya know.., Aunt Lea has a marvelous diet program that she worked out herself. Why don't you ask her about it?"

My feelings for Janice had evolved into a companionable sort of pity after discovering how she'd brought so much of her pain on herself. Now I found within myself a desire to hurt her, to seek revenge for all the sermons and righteous wrath I'd endured at her hands during our stormy marriage. Putting her through Lea's 'program' would serve her right! Especially if, as I suspected, the process would work upon her the exact reverse of what was done to me. Then, as a male, if she refused to accept the facts and insisted an returning to her old wardrobe, that'd be the ultimate payback! She'd be a TV! Hahaha .... the image was so funny I missed part of what she was saying.

"It certainly can't hurt to ask." I didn't add that, if Lea's frequent and lengthy retreats to the cellar were any indication of her plans, her response was a forgone conclusion. By now I also had no doubt that she had engineered everything to that end.

With a distant look in her eyes, Janice stood staring at how attractive I'd made her look (from the neck up). Her next words reminded me of a hateful comment I'd made just before she threw me out. "Ya know, Lora, just before Larry left, he accused me of being more masculine than he was. Can you imagine? He even tried to rationalize his perversion by ranting about me earning more and supporting us so I could wear the pants, while he spent so much time at home he was only doing what a good housewife should."

She paused for a moment then added, "...and he may have been right, at least about me. I did try to dominate and force my will on him, especially in the religious department. And by the end, I was actually supporting us, paying the bills. So psychologically, if not physically, I really was 'wearing the pants' in our house." Another long Pause. "...Now why would I think of that now? At the time I rejected it as just more of his crazy rationalizations."

The memory shattered my thoughts of revenge. "Maybe there was more truth to it than you were willing to admit at the time," I contributed.

"Hmmm, Could be, and there was something else, too ... May God forgive me, I was glad we never had children. Lora, Your the first human being I've ever admitted this too, but getting pregnant scared me to death! And to prevent it I even defied my own moral code forbidding birth control."

There! The crack in her armor that I'd been waiting for. "Oh, Janice, that's so sad. I'm looking forward to having kids myself. Didn't you want them?" I pressed.

"Of course, but not if I had to bear them myself! There was always adoption, but I could never bring myself to tell Larry how I felt. Then, as our marriage deteriorated, it was easier to say nothing. My fear of pregnancy grew so strong that my interest in sex waned until I was frigid."

When Janice turned to me there were real tears in her eyes. "Lora, you're such a pretty young thing, and we've known each other only a short time, but it's so easy to talk to you. It's almost as though you're the sister I never had. Would you be too terribly surprised if I made yet another small confession?"

I smiled and shrugged. "Why not? What are friends for anyway? Maybe you'll feel better by sharing it." I couldn't help but wonder whether our marriage could have been mended if we had communicated this well as husband and wife.

She bit her lip and took a moment, while the tears seemed to flow freely. "Ok.., but don't laugh.. (GULP!) ... After Larry left, I had a lot of time to think about us, and especially about what he said. And you know what? Since his death, there's been many a time I've wondered whether we'd have been any happier if the tables actually had been reversed and held been the wife while I ... Oh Dear God, ..(sob).., I wish he (sob) was alive so (sob) I could say (sob-sob-sniff!) ... oh, I'm s..s..so s..orry!"

My vision blurred with tears of my own as I suppressed the urge to tell Jan where Larry really was. Instead, I spouted platitudes. "Tears won't bring him back, Janice, but they do tend to cleanse the soul." It sounded lame, and it was, but was much better than what I might have told her.

Wiping mascara streaks from her face, Janice sobbed, "Thanks, Lora, they do." Then her glassy eyes looked puzzled. "That's a very profound statement for one so young,"

I grinned to myself and shrugged. "Yeah, well, Lea often accuses me of being wise beyond my years, but I think she really means that I'm too smart for my own good."

That made Janice's lips twitch in a grin as I turned the conversation toward less heady matters by asking her if she'd like to go shopping. I was determined to get her into some more stylish clothes. Besides, shopping tended to cure my doldrums, so maybe it would do the same for her too.

Janice did eventually ask Lea about the diet, and both of us got far more than either had ever bargained for.

My 'ex', of course, was "reconstituted" and renamed 'John', of all things. I'd have thought Lea could be a bit more original, but what's a girl to do? I never had any say in the matter anyway.

Meanwhile, I got to be nurse, housemaid, and "chief cook and bottle washer" until 'John' could fend for 'himself'. I never worked so hard in my life, either.

During those three weeks while Janice slept off the 'weight', I changed the bed, hauled her to the bathroom, and cleaned up the frequent 'ugliness'. I never realized how much work Lea had done just to keep things tidy and clean while I puked and crapped my way through those days.

When the big 'event was due, Lea shooed me from the room before her 'Friends' showed up. However, I did hear the thunderclaps that signaled their arrival and departure.

Later that day, Lea caved in when she couldn't stand my pouting mug anymore and let me watch John's emergence through a one-way mirror.

"You've come through beautifully," Lea proclaimed while I looked on from that dark closet-sized room behind the glass.

Janice stared groggily at her reflection, then her eyes widened. "Good grief, I'm almost thin! Uh.., but it looks like I've lost most of it below my waist. Lea.., my hips and thighs are a lot thinner, but my chest and shoulders look heavier."

"Janice, do you recall what Larry said before he left you? Something about the two of you reversing your traditional roles?"

"Huh ... uh ... yeah, and I even told Lora about it. Did she tell you?" Her question sounded more like an accusation.

"No, my dear Jannie, she did not. However, since you now know my true nature, you must realize that I am perfectly capable of transforming Larry's statement into fact. ...No, don't interrupt. This is important! You must understand thoroughly.

"When we first met, you were already independent, and a bit too aggressive. You dominated your relationship with your Mr. Rossman, and with Andrea. I'll give you some credit for burying yourself in religion to channel that aggression, but it wasn't enough. You were the stronger personality in your marriage, you know that now, and admitted as much to Lora, and to me just now, right?" (Nod)

"So, if you now so choose, you need only wish it, and you will become what you have subconsciously desired all these years. Want it enough, and you will become a MAN!"

Janice's eyes glazed and her pale lips pulsed like those of a gasping carp. "Th-Th-That's not possible!" she groaned.

"It most certainly is!" insisted Aunt Lea. "When I took in Andrew, he was a runaway little punk. You met Andrea two years later. There have been several others, of both sexes, whom I've been able to mold into useful citizens with a purpose to their lives. You saw my sanctum in the cellar, you were the object of the little ceremony there, and the results are here before your eyes. What else but magic could accomplish such dramatic results without killing you?

"Then accept your destiny. I perceive that you have always begrudged men their strength; hated your own feminine weaknesses. Maybe that is partly why pregnancy terrified you so. And that brings up a question you need to consider. Was fear your real reason for avoiding pregnancy, or was it because you actually hated your own womanhood?"

"I want to put things right, my dear Jannie," Lea cajoled. "But you must want it. Would you rather continue life as is? If so, you will never enjoy the family you have wanted and never dared to have; you'll miss the fulfillment that could bring. My way offers that too!"

The tear-reddened eyes stared at Lea in disbelief. "You could really do that? It's so hard to accept. It goes against everything I've believed in for so long."

"Look at it this way. Maybe God has decided HE should correct a few chance errors in the overall scheme of things. HE certainly wants us all to be happy, at least that's what most religions say HE wants for us. Couldn't this be HIS way of ensuring that for you, by bringing you back here? Maybe through me God is offering you a way to resolve the torment that is raging in your soul."

"Oh..., I've been such a creep for so long.., anything would be an improvement."

Naturally, Janice took the 'treatment' and John turned out to be a very handsome gentleman of about twenty-two years, standing six-foot-three, with broad shoulders. He's lean as a willow, and has the tightest, cutest ass I'd ever seen! (And I'd been watching lately, for sure!) Of course, Lea mysteriously acquired all the proper documentation, and John Morton Hayden (Janice's maiden name) moved into the upstairs rooms from which Janice Hayden Rossman had suddenly disappeared.

I'm certain it was part of Lea's grand design that John and I should become 'close' friends, and more. He still didn't know my true identity, though he once asked rather bluntly if I was one of Lea's projects. I could hardly deny it, now could I? But that didn't seem to bother him at all. In fact, it seemed to add a bit of zest to our rapidly developing relationship. Knowing that this tall good-looking young man's soul was a recycled version of my ex-wife's also made it easier to accept his amorous advances without having nervous virginal fits.

One evening we stood on the porch watching fluffy patches of clouds float across the face of the full moon. The mood was too romantic to resist, so we didn't. Our kiss was long and deep. The warmth and security of John's firm embrace gave me such comfort and a sense of belonging that I instantly realized that, of all people, he was the man I'd been waiting for.

When we finally separated, my emotions made it hard to breathe. It felt so much like my last session with the hairbrush that I knew I'd die in order to get more of the same.

"Lora," John whispered, his breath caressing my ear, "this may sound weird, but I think Lea meant us for each other."

"That's not weird at all," I replied, reaching up to run a red-tipped nail along the stubble line of his lantern jaw. "I'll bet you even money she planned it to be so from the very beginning."

"Ha, you're money's safe. And she probably intended to let our raging new hormones do the rest!"

Still held firmly in his arms, I felt his hidden erection press against my stomach and knew I'd never need my favorite hair brush handle again! I rose to my tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then smiled suggestively. "So, what do we do about that?"

"Tough question, ...hmmm..?" He feigned thoughtfulness, then hugged me tight as we merged into a long, hard, wet kiss.

When we finally separated for air, he blurted, "Ah.., what the hell, let's get married!"

I gasped theatrically. "John! What an impetuous fool you are, and I've never heard you swear before!"

"That's not so surprising since we've known each other only a short time." He looked down and eyed me closely. "Or have we?"

A firm grip pulled my chin up to meet his suspicious gaze. "Lora, did we know one another before you came to live with Lea?"

Ouch, there it was. Steeling myself, I pulled away to arms length and answered truthfully, or at least with a qualified truth. "Yes, John, I knew you before." I had to swallow my heart, then hedged, "But who we were doesn't really matter now, does it? I mean, look at us! That part of my life already seems like a faraway dream. I AM Lora, and I think I'm falling in love with you, John Hayden, ...you brute," I chided playfully, then pleaded, "Isn't that what's important now, anyway?"

"Yes, dear beautiful Lora, it is. But you can't blame me for being curious. After all, you know who I was."

I assumed my coyest and most provocative pose. "If you're really serious about marriage..."

Since such things still held some weight, even for me, I literally made that promise on a stack of scripture!

Lea was thrilled. Then I remembered how she'd felt betrayed when Andy left. After discussing it with John, we decided to stay in the upstairs apartment while looking for a house of our own nearby. That made Lea ecstatic, and she insisted on having the wedding there in her house.

So, just as in that old dream of mine, although the vast chapel and long carpeted aisle were missing, I was that beautiful blushing bride in my white satin and lace gown. John was exquisitely handsome in his black velvet tuxedo. The Mayor himself performed the ceremony, the President of the local university gave me away, and three City Councilmen were 'best men'.

That night we took our time undressing each other then collapsed on the bed in a heated embrace.

John's substantial erection pressed against my hip while our tongues played tag. Then his lips traced a sizzling trail of fire across my heaving breast and engulfed a fat nipple. Wave after wave of glorious pleasure swept over me. My tits were broiling magma.

The expanding flames swept down between my legs and threatened to consume me with exalted bliss as my husband pressed my breasts together and his mouth engulfed both nipples at once. Twin explosions of dazzling passion swirled through my golden orbs. My hips bucked to the rhythmic rasp of his teeth raking those fat erect nubs. The heights he pushed me to were so lofty I grew dizzy.

Oh, the glory of multiple orgasms! I rode that roller coaster with rapt joy, digging my nails into his back, or holding his head firmly against my throbbing mounds. My mind was saturated in an erotic fog and my whole body was on autopilot.

After an eternity, our lips locked again as John moved over me. My legs spread wide as his long, hard pole settled between my thighs. In a way, we were both new to this and a tiny voice in the back of my mind wanted to make it easier, so I slid my hand between us and grasped that gargantuan obelisk. My God! My delicate fingers barely encircled its girth as I carefully positioned the throbbing head.

I was so hot and wet that penetration was deliciously smooth as my body accepted the thick shaft. When it was in just inches, my lover began a slow piston action, each lunge probing a little deeper. The pulsating thrusts matched the cadence of my heart, which pounded like a kettledrum beneath my ribs. Suddenly, I felt two 'bumps', one at my crotch when the base of his shaft nudged at my pubis, the other more indistinctly at the other end, deep within me. He was literally knocking at the very door of my womb! It felt like that rod was trying to penetrate all the way up to my lungs. My entire being centered on that corpulent beam that filled me so completely.

Spasms racked my body and my legs looped over his hips and my ankles locked, digging my heels into his ass. We flew together in a driving passion that sent me to such sublime sensual heights I didn't care if we never came down.

Just as I reached a particularly wrenching orgasm, John buried himself in me and froze, holding me in a crushing embrace. I noticed he was holding his breath too. Then I felt it! Through that incredibly sensitive little 'love muscle' of mine, I felt a pulsing in the shaft it was hugging so securely. Much deeper, there were several explosive spasms as his essence splashed into the center of my womanhood. Another orgasmic lurch sent me reeling at the very thought that in a short time some microscopic 'wiggly' in those millions might thrash its way to meet its destiny, and fulfill mine!

Even now, I get warm little jiggle-shocks whenever I recall that 'first time'. It was wonderful beyond words! We've had a great sex life since, but that night was truly special. Isn't the 'first time' that way for everyone!

John let out a long low moan in my ear. I was savoring my own more gradual slide down from the highlands I'd climbed while his shaft lost its turgid grandeur. Though I desperately wanted it to remain where it was, it went limp and he rolled away.

During the long moments of silence that followed, his arm lay across my belly, his fingers gently stroking the valley between my breasts.

"Lora, darling?" he eventually whispered. "I've never had such a wonderful experience in my life! The power, the force of it is almost overwhelming. It's definitely an improvement over my previous existence."

"I know what you mean," I murmured through the afterglow. "But in my case the reverse is true. I'm gonna love being your wife and lover, Lover."

He rose up on an elbow and pulled-my chin around until our eyes met. "Honey, I think it's about time."

"No, at least not for a while. What I meant was that you made a promise, and now I think it's time you kept it."

That damned promise! If I'd had my way, he'd never have known. But maybe now was the best time. I stalled by propping myself up on the pillows and gathering what willpower and courage I could to withstand the terror that gripped my gut. "Uh .... Honey ... you know I was a man before I came here?"

"Yes, of course I do. You know that perfectly well," he retorted impatiently. Golly, how a man's mood can change. And I thought women were bad!

"One day I too saw the 'For Rent' sign out front and stopped to check it out. You've known Lea intimately for years while I knew of her only by reputation. I knew nothing of her 'talent', of course, and, believed just as you did that such things didn't exist, except in fantasy or sci-fi books or on TV. Well, my story is very similar to yours from that point. I also wanted to try a diet..." I gave her a quick summary of my efforts, and Lea's. "But my motives were far different from yours. (GULP!) You see, I was a male transvestite and wanted to look better in my women's clothes..."

"Mmmm, well yes, ...pretty much," I stammered, then swallowed my heart, clenched my teeth, and blurted, "..in fact, John darling, ...I was Larry!" My voice was barely audible, but he heard me anyway.

For a split second, he seemed stunned, and then a wide grin split his face from ear to ear and explosive laughter filled the room. Tears of mirth washed from his eyes as gurgling fits racked his chest. I wondered if he would literally 'split a gut'.

It was several minutes before he calmed down enough to say, "Oh ... I'm.. ..sorry ... dear Lora .... ... that's.. so funny ... Why on earth ... would you say such ... a thing?"

"Because its true!" I insisted, realizing he didn't believe me. "What do you want me to do, prove it?"

"Then I'll have to give you the proof." In painfully minute detail, I described the fateful evening when Janice caught me in her clothes.

By the time I'd finished, John's jaw was hanging limp and he was gawking at me in wide-eyed astonishment.

Then the laughter returned in hearty boisterous waves and lasted almost as long. "M..M..My ... God.., do you realize ... how Freudian this all is?" he gasped.

John nodded in bewildered acceptance. "After what you just said, how can I doubt it? I certainly never told anyone about it, not even Lea. But it's more like reincarnation to me, since I thought Larry was dead anyway."

"I was, at least spiritually. Lea almost certainly saved me from a fate worse than that gruesome death she 'arranged'."

"Isn't it obvious? We've both been given a new lease on life, so let's take full advantage of it. As far as I'm concerned, as of this instant Larry and Janice Rossman are really and forever dead. Mr. and Mrs. John Hayden are newlyweds beginning their young married lives together. I think the best thing we could do is forget our singularly unpleasant pasts and begin anew. And you know what?" His large hand engulfed my raw sensitive breast flesh and tweaked a hard nipple.

John smiled and licked his lips hungrily. "I'm about ready to act like a newlywed again. How about you?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" I replied eagerly with a similar expression. In the back of my mind sat an image of the unused pills in the medicine chest, and the quick calculations I'd done when we set the wedding date.

Two months later we bought a house just three lots away, which pleased us all. And, almost exactly nine months after our glorious wedding night, I gave birth to little Judith Marie, to the delight of all, especially her 'fairy' godmother.

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� 2001 by Lorna Samuels. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.


The woman's likeness to Lea was so great, they almost certainly were direct relatives, several generations removed.


	Mrs. Galpin in her beloved rose garden.


	Andrea and new husband


Bridal fantasies and dreams


*an appropriate trigger* kicked in**