CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning (Monday) Dale still felt like hell. The pills helped a little, but he still felt achy and bloated, and for some strange reason his nipples hurt. Like most guys Dale had never paid much attention to his nipples since they were small and, quite frankly, insignificant. They weren’t sensitive enough to call attention to themselves—until now. Suddenly his nipples were tender and sore, and even the slight brush of his shirt across his chest irritated them.
But those weren’t the worst of his problems. On top of everything else Dale was experiencing extreme moods swings. The previous night he had broken into tears while watching a sad scene in an old movie, and a few minutes later he caught himself actually giggling at joke Sandy told him. This morning everything seemed like a crisis, especially his new "condition," and he had another crying jag while he changed his tampon. He couldn’t help himself—everything just seemed so . . . hopeless, and confused.
He hated being female, much less having a period, and the horrible "fishy" smell emanating from his vagina had been absorbed by the pair of socks he’d stuffed into his jockstrap. When he mentioned the problem to Sandy she grew thoughtful for a moment, then her face brightened.
"Come with me, I think I have an idea that will take care of your problem," she informed him.
Dale followed Sandy into their bedroom, where she retrieved a clean jockstrap from his dresser and a small box from her closet. Sandy led him into the spare bedroom that she used for a sewing room and sat down at her sewing machine. She found a piece of white cotton cloth, and after cutting it in a triangular shape, Sandy stitched it to the jockstrap, connecting the sides of the pouch to form a basket. Then she opened the small cardboard box and pulled out a small, silicone breast form. She had once used the breast forms to enhance her bustline, before she married Dale, but now she inserted the breast form into the "basket" of the jockstrap and handed it to Dale.
"Try this on," she ordered, "but first change your tampon and put on a clean pair of my panties."
"Your panties?" Dale exclaimed.
"Yeah, they’ll conform to your new "contours" better and they won’t bag up underneath your falsie," she remarked teasingly.
Dale shrugged and did as he was told.
"The silicone won’t absorb any odors, and if you use feminine deodorant and wear panties underneath your strap you should be okay," Sandy explained as her husband got dressed. "The silicone has another advantage too," she added. "It’s waterproof. You can wear it underneath your trunks while swimming."
Dale looked down at himself and was surprised at how well the small breast form worked in his jock. The size was just about right, he judged, and the weight was more in keeping with his old equipment. He did have to reach down and "adjust" it every so often, but even that was a natural act for a guy.
Sandy left him to finish dressing, but a few minutes later he came into the kitchen looking on the verge of tears.
"It’s still no good," he whined. "I’ll never be able to work while I have my period! I feel terrible! I ache all over and I’ll need extra tampons for sure. Where can I keep them? How can I get away with changing them in a mens room?"
"Oh, quit whining," Sandy replied gruffly, suppressing the urge to laugh at Dale’s reference to ‘my period.’ "Millions of women go to work everyday during their periods. Are they tougher than you? As for your extra tampons, put them in a paper bag in your briefcase—Unless of course you’d rather carry a purse. And don’t use the mens room at the office. Wait until you’re on the road and stop at a gas station."
Sandy left for work and Dale had no choice but to follow her suggestions. He really wanted to call in sick, but he was scheduled to see several important customers and he needed the sales.
Unfortunately Dale didn’t make a single sale that day. He was distracted by his condition, and he lacked his usual drive and the aggressive attitude he relied on to close the big sales. He was preoccupied, self-conscious, and his mind wandered. Each failed contact drove him deeper and deeper into despair, and towards the end of the day he pulled his company car off to the side of the road and had a good cry. He finally gave up and headed for home—an hour earlier than normal.
Sandy was experiencing problems of her own, but of a completely different nature. She found herself scratching herself in a most unladylike manner several times during the day, and on one occasion she had to run for the back room, carrying a suit in front of her when she unexpectedly became erect. Though nobody seemed to notice her problems she realized she needed to do something about her phallus before someone noticed the strange bulge in the front of her skirt. During lunch she went to the women’s department and purchased a pantygirdle and put it on in the employees’ restroom.
That afternoon Sandy came up with a new idea for displaying the clothes in her department and mentioned it to Pete, store manager, who was strolling through the mens and boys department. Pete listened to her carefully and reacted very enthusiastically. He went to speak to her department manager, and after a brief conversation they decided to make the changes Sandy suggested. Sandy was happy that Pete was willing to try her idea, and she even happier when Pete told her she could expect a little something extra in her next check. She made a note to herself to look for other way to improve sales in the department.
When Dale got home he removed his jockstrap and took a long hot bath. He decided against putting his jock back on after the bath because it seemed to chafe his thighs, and Sandy had him wash it out by hand and hang it over the shower curtain, explaining that he should always wash out his "lingerie" for the next day. The rest of the night Dale wore a pair of shorts over his panties, and an old, soft T-shirt to keep from irritating his nipples. Dale was originally supposed to go out with the guys and shoot pool at their favorite watering hole, a bar that sexy waitresses with tight T-shirts, but he called one of his buddies and begged off, explaining that he didn’t feel very well. When she heard Dale on the phone Sandy smiled to herself and wondered whether Dale had canceled because his period was really bothering him, or because he found girls with big boobs less exciting in his "condition."
After Dale got off the phone she called him back into the living room and told him they had to have a little talk.
"What’s up?" Dale asked. He was hoping Sandy would tell him that she was satisfied with his punishment and was willing to wish everything back to normal, but Sandy had something far different on her mind.
"Well, I think it’s about time we discussed what you intend to use for protection."
"Protection?" Dale didn’t understand.
"Yeah, as in contraception—unless you’re thinking about starting a family, of course."
Dale just stared at his wife in stunned silence.
"Oh come now. You’re familiar with the facts of life, and I’m sure you know that if you’re capable of having a period you’re probably fertile," Sandy teased him. "That means you need to start thinking about birth control."
"I don’t believe we’re having this conversation," Dale remarked glumly.
"Better now than a tearful discussion of what you should have done later," Sandy pointed out. "Now, the way I see it you should start taking my birth control pills after your period is over, unless you’d like to see your own doctor and get your own prescription. Of course you could use a diaphragm, or another method, but I recommend the pills for reliability and ease of use."
Suddenly Dale bolted from the couch and ran to the bathroom. Sandy could hear sounds of retching coming from the doorway and decided not to press the matter for the moment. She was actually beginning to feel sorry for Dale, and she again questioned whether this little joke of hers had gone far enough, but she couldn’t seem to make up her mind. While part of her felt sympathetic to her feminized husband another part of her enjoyed her new-found strength and the freedom from her own periods. She was beginning to like being the dominant partner, not to mention the help with the housework and the relief of not having to put up with Dale’s arrogant, sexist comments. In the end Sandy decided she needed time to sort it out and decide how long she would let their situation continue. It never entered her mind that she might not be in control of events.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next few days were very enjoyable for Sandy, and a nightmare for Dale. The emasculated man dragged himself through the rest of the week, making few sales and avoiding his friends as much as possible. He lived in constant fear that someone would discover his shameful secret, and barely managed to cope with his period. On Wednesday his "flow" was down considerably and Sandy introduced him to pantyliners. On Thursday she left her small plastic packet of birth control pills out with a short note telling Dale what he needed to know. She also made it clear that he WOULD need some form of protection because she intended to assert her spousal "rights" with him. Dale was outraged and terrified, but in the end he decided it made sense to have a little "insurance" and he began taking the pills.
With all of the turmoil of the past week Dale had completely forgotten that he and Sandy were invited to a party at the home of her store manager. The party had been scheduled for several weeks but when Sandy reminded him of it on Saturday morning Dale panicked.
"I really don’t think it’s a good idea to go to this party," he told Sandy.
"Why not?" She asked, adding: "We always go to Pete’s parties. They’re a lot of fun. Besides, there’s a rumor going around that he’s going to mention my new marketing idea to everyone. I might be in line for a bonus or ‘employee of the month,’ or something like that. We’ve got to go."
Sandy went out to run a few errands and do the grocery shopping, leaving Dale to do all the housework again, and he worried about the party all day as he did the cleaning and laundry. When Sandy returned Dale went out to the car to help her carry everything in, but he had to leave the heavier packages for his wife since his arms were tired from carrying laundry baskets and lugging the vacuum around. Sandy grinned and handed him some clothes on hangers while she hefted two of the heavier bags of groceries and easily carried them into the kitchen.
"What are these?" Dale asked, indicating the plastic covered hangers.
"Oh, I bought a new outfit and something to help me hide ‘Mr. Happy,’" she explained with a giggle, "and I bought a couple of shirts for you, too," she added.
"Shirts?" Dale asked. "I don’t need any new shirts."
"I think you’ll like these," Sandy replied. "They’re silk. They’ll be more comfortable against your nipples."
Dale blushed at Sandy’s reference to his nipples. He’d complained several times that they were extremely sensitive since their transformation so he couldn’t complain when she tried to help the problem, but . . .
"Don’t you think silk is a little effeminate?" He asked, staring at the brightly colored shirts.
Sandy suppressed a smirk. "Of course not. Lots of guys wear silk shirts nowadays. You just haven’t noticed because you’ve been hanging around with your Neanderthal friends."
Sandy encouraged Dale to dress casually, but she donned a sharp, new navy blue pantsuit, a white oxford-style blouse and navy pumps with 2 ½ inch heels. Dale wore a red, yellow and royal blue patterned silk shirt, tan pleated slacks and deck shoes. When he asked Sandy why she was dressed formally after telling him to go "casual," she replied that she had to look good for her big moment, but there was no reason for him to be uncomfortable all night. Then Dale noticed that he couldn’t see any evidence of his wife’s penis and scrotum, despite the fact that her tailored women’s slacks were fairly tight.
"Ah . . . Sandy? How come you can wear those slacks and I can’t see your, ah . . . ‘equipment?’"
Sandy laughed. "You mean my cock and balls? It’s quite simple, really. I was online the other day and I found a fascinating website. It seems that I’m not the only one with the problem, and I discovered there are ways to hide my new plumbing. I found a local store that sells ‘specialty items,’ and I bought a few things today. I’m wearing something called a gaff. Do you like the look?"
"Well, yeah," Dale replied hesitantly, noticing that the front of his wife’s slacks were smooth and very feminine in appearance. "It’s very . . . effective."
Sandy nodded, thinking it was ironic she needed something to conceal her masculinity in order to wear pants. Aside from that though, she was surprised that Dale hadn’t mentioned the fact that she was wearing high heels. In the past she had always avoided wearing heel because Dale was rather short and she didn’t want to appear taller than him. But since their mysterious metamorphosis her concern for Dale’s inferiority complex had vanished, and she no longer cared whether it would embarrass Dale if she appeared taller. Tonight, in her 2 ½ inch heels and Dale in deck shoes, Sandy stood at least an inch taller than her husband.
Sandy and Dale arrived at 8 and saw that it was already crowded. All of the department managers and their wives were in attendance, as well as quite a few of the long-term employees. Pete Ellis, the store manager, greeted them warmly when they emerged onto the large patio surrounding his pool. The grounds were immaculate and decorated with torches, floral arrangements on the food tables, and even a floating ice sculpture in the pool. A bar, complete with a white-jacketed bartender, was set up near the cabanas and Sandy steered Dale over to the libations.
"What would you like to drink?" Sandy asked, unconsciously assuming the role of the "provider."
"Uh, how about some white wine," Dale replied, completely oblivious to his wife’s assumption of the dominant role, and that he was following her lead.
Sandy pushed her way through the crowd surrounding the bar and emerged a minute later with Dale’s wine and a Scotch and soda for herself. She handed Dale his drink, then put her arm on the small of his back and guided him over to a group of her co-workers. They joined in the conversation and Sandy introduced Dale to everyone. As they talked she draped her arm casually around Dale’s shoulders, which was fairly easy with her slight height advantage, and Dale did not object or try to move away. He simply stood by her side passively, listening politely to the others and taking occasion sips of his wine.
As he listened to the conversation Dale caught sight of his reflection in a sliding glass door and unconsciously touched his hair, smoothing it in place. He had to admit that his new, colorful silk shirt looked quite nice, and it did feel good against his sensitive nipples—Maybe too good. He could feel a slight tingle when the soft, flimsy material brushed against his small but tender points, and he was acutely aware that they were growing hard. It was extremely distracting as he tried to listen to Sandy explaining several new ideas she had to improve sales.
About a half-hour after they arrived Pete came over and took Sandy inside the house to speak with her. Dale watched them leave, Sandy striding confidently next to her boss, and suddenly he felt nervous and self-conscious. For some reason his glib salesman’s personality was absent, and he wanted to go with Sandy or, failing that, simply blend into the background until she returned. Neither option was available to him so Dale did the next best thing—He retreated to the bathroom and took his time adjusting his clothes and making sure his hair looked nice. When he finally emerged Sandy had returned and Pete was nowhere in sight.
Dale went straight over to his wife and spoke to her in a low tone. "What was that all about?" He asked, referring to her private talk with Pete.
"I can’t tell you now, but you’ll find out in a little while," Sandy responded with a smile and a gleam in her eye.
"Good news?" He persisted, his curiosity aroused.
Sandy nodded and smiled again. "Very."
Dale, and everybody else, found out what the good news was a few minutes later when Pete stepped to the center of the patio and asked for everyone’s attention.
"I have two important announcements to make," Pete intoned. "First, I am sorry to announce that Bill Sinclair will be leaving us in two weeks. Bill has accepted a position with a . . . competitor of ours, and will be the new store manager of Drexel’s Department Store. I know we will all miss Bill and wish him well—as long as he doesn’t cut into our sales!"
That remark brought general laughter from the assembled guests. Dale knew Bill quite well since he was the manager of the mens and boys department, one of the departments in which Sandy worked.
"The second announcement is related to the first," Pete continued after the congratulations subsided. "To fill the void left by Bill’s untimely departure I’ve asked our own Sandy Morton to take over Mens and Boys. Sandy is an extraordinarily capable young woman and she has recently made several suggestions that I believe will be very productive. I would like to welcome her to our management team."
The assembled guests turned towards Sandy and began applauding and coming up to her with congratulations. Dale was shocked and stunned, yet pleased his wife was receiving a promotion and the recognition of her boss. He smiled broadly and kissed his wife, but a few seconds later he felt a brief, intense dizziness wash over him. He shifted his feet slightly to maintain his balance, then shook his head a little to clear a sudden foggy sensation that seemed to cloud his mind slightly. The odd sensation passed quickly, at least he regained his sense of balance, but the foggy, woolly sensation in his head seemed to linger a while. A few minutes later only a slight fuzziness remained and Dale relaxed, but as he looked around he had the impression that something had changed.
After the congratulations died down Dale got Sandy alone for a moment and asked her to take him home.
"Sure, babe," Sandy agreed, grinning down at him. "Just let me say ‘goodnight’ to a few people."
Dale waited patiently while Sandy shook hands with several of the other department managers—her new peers—and finally with Pete. He watched his wife moving easily among the others, sharing a joke, shaking hands, or patting someone on the back, and Dale actually felt a little jealous. Before his emasculation he would have done those things—It was part of being a salesman—But since their horrible gender-swap he had been unable to act in such an outgoing, brash manner. It was as if that part of his personality had simply disappeared. In the meantime Sandy had really blossomed. She was far more dynamic and forceful than she’d ever been before. With a gasp Dale suddenly realized that there had much more than a mere physical exchange involved in the transformation! Their personalities had been altered too, and where Sandy was now a confident, ambitious and dynamic young woman, Dale was now timid, shy, passive, and unsure of himself.
Sandy finished her farewells and started back towards Dale, who was standing exactly where she left him. As she approached her husband Sandy was struck by his appearance. Despite the "falsie" he was standing with his legs closer together than a normal male, with his hands folded in front of him. His gaze was lowered slightly, though his eyes were on her and seemed to track her as she moved. There was an unreadable expression on his face.
"Sorry it took so long but I had to talk to Pete about a couple of changes I want to make in the department," Sandy explained as she took Dale’s arm and guided him towards their car.
"That’s okay," Dale replied with a ready smile. "I understand completely."
It wasn’t until they were halfway home that Sandy realized she had opened the passenger side door and held it for Dale while he got in the car. She had no idea what possessed her to do that, or why Dale hadn’t said something to her.
Sandy kicked off her heels and quickly appropriated the bathroom. After removing her suit coat and slacks and pantyhose she wriggled out of the gaff. It worked very well to conceal her new sex, but it was uncomfortable and she was glad to get rid of it. After heeding the call of nature she pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and headed towards the bedroom.
Dale was changing too, and had already removed his slacks and shoes when Sandy came up behind him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed the nape of his neck. Dale froze for a moment, then sighed and relaxed as he felt Sandy’s strong arms pin his own to his sides while she kissed him. Sandy leaned forward, looking over Dale’s shoulder and methodically unbuttoned his shirt, and Dale stood there passively, transfixed by the wonderful sensations and strange new emotions.
When Sandy finally opened Dale’s shirt she eased one hand beneath it and sought out his newly-sensitized nipples—and found far more than she expected! Dale’s nipples felt larger than normal and her fingers perceived a cushiony softness beneath and around them. Now it was Sandy’s turn to be surprised, and she probed Dale’s chest gently and discovered that it now featured two soft, shallow domes. She pulled the shirt aside and gazed down at her husband’s embryonic breasts in amazement, cupping them and kneading them with exquisite gentleness.
Dale moaned softly and pressed himself against Sandy as she expertly teased his nipples, bringing them to full arousal. They weren’t nearly as large as a woman’s, but they were certainly larger than they had been, and judging from Dale’s reaction Sandy knew they were extremely sensitive. She intended to ask Dale when his little titties had appeared, but she herself was rapidly becoming aroused and she decided the answer to her question could wait. Instead she turned Dale around, lifted his chin and let her lips descend on his. The feeling was electric, and Sandy felt her newly-acquired phallus rising to the occasion, becoming rock-hard.
Suddenly Sandy realized that, even without her heels, she was TALLER than Dale! Not by much—maybe an inch, or a little more—but even that seemed impossible! She was at least an inch and a half SHORTER than her husband, or at least she had been! Sandy wasn’t sure her new height advantage over Dale was the result of him shrinking or her growing, or both, but she was utterly mystified by the development. She was also puzzled that Dale hadn’t noticed it. He seemed completely unaware of the subtle changes that were continuing to occur.
At that moment, though, Sandy had other things on her mind. She slipped Dale’s shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then picked him up and cradled him in her arms as she carried him to their bed. She laid him down gently and stared down at him as she removed her blouse and bra. She noticed other minute changes in his form that she found strangely exciting and compelling.
Even in his prone position Dale’s new little titties jutted upwards from his chest with his slightly enlarged nipples standing at their peaks, and Sandy couldn’t resist touching them, massaging them gently, feeling them yield beneath her fingers as she manipulated them. Dale closed his eyes and sighed softly as the wonderful feelings returned. This time he wasn’t shocked. This time he wasn’t scared. This time he wanted to be filled.
He knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t relish the feelings that flowed through him like a rising tide but he couldn’t help himself. Sandy’s touch felt wonderful, and Dale felt himself softening and his legs parting of their own accord even as his chest seemed to swell and his nipples grew. Sandy knelt between his legs and ran her hands slowly down his sides, her feather-light touch gliding along the contours of his body. Her touch seemed to define him and confine him despite its almost ethereal nature, and Dale trembled with both pleasure and anticipation. He sensed her weight moving forward, then felt her lips surround one of his nipples, teasing it, tasting it, gently pulling and sucking at it, until the delightful sensation threatened to overwhelm him. A sensual warmth radiated outwards from Dale’s nipples and extended through his entire body. He closed his eyes and savored the wonderful feeling and let himself go completely.
Sandy was pleased with her husband’s response to her foreplay. It fueled the sense of dominance and control she had come to love, and she was determined to explore its limits. She knew what excited a woman and she intended to use that knowledge to become an expert lover, but her desire to prolong the moment conflicted with her own new, masculine needs and desires. She couldn’t hold out forever.
She kissed Dale’s nipples one last time then moved lower. She explored his inner thighs and found a slight softening of his muscles when she stroked his legs. When she brushed her finger lightly over his clitoris Dale gasped and arched his back, and when she manipulated his little hooded knob he shook uncontrollably and uttered a very girlsih moan. Her touch had set off a series of incredibly wonderful tremors within him, and he consciously parted his legs further to allow her better access. His inner sanctum was damp with desire. He wanted her and needed her—now! His hands sought her waist and he gripped her tightly and tried to pull her down onto him, but Sandy easily resisted his feeble attempt to control the pace. She continued to manipulate Dale’s clit until he shook and cried out for release. His whole body was on fire and he was consumed by an overwhelming need to feel her inside him!
Frustrated in his attempt to pull her down to him Dale’s hands found his wife’s erect penis, and without thinking, he began to stroke it and fondle it lovingly. As he did he implored her to finish it.
"Please do it!" He gasped. "Please do me now!"
By then Sandy was too aroused to hold back, but she was thrilled to hear her husband begging to be fucked, and she proceeded to give him exactly what he wanted. She positioned herself above him and he willingly guided her to the entrance to his vagina. His back arched as her weight descended on him and he gasped as he felt her large, thick phallus invade his secret tunnel. Dale thrashed and moaned as Sandy pushed into him. She was so big that he felt her dilating his vagina as she moved deeper and deeper. She filled him entirely, and Dale felt his vaginal muscles contract around her enormous stud, and when she began pulling up Dale felt as though she was drawing part of him out with her. He grasped her waist and wrapped his legs around her and cried out again as she plunged into him. Over and over she drilled her massive, hardened phallus into his soft, receptive opening, and Dale lost all control.
His hips rose to meet her thrusts and he clung desperately to Sandy as she became the center of his universe. Dale’s awareness shrank until nothing else mattered. All that existed, the only thing that had meaning for him, was Sandy’s wondrous, incredible stud. She was playing him like a violin and it was a virtuoso performance, especially for a novice male, and by the time she was finished Sandy "owned" Dale.
His heart was pounding and his breaths were rapid and shallow as Dale clung to his wife. He felt the tension building within him until it became unbearable, and he erupted in volcanic fury as his orgasm simply exploded. The glorious sensation shot through him and quickly spread to his belly, breasts and thighs, and the pulsing climax seemed to go on and on. Dale laughed and cried, screaming out his ecstatic joy and delight while he gripped his wife’s penis with his vaginal muscles, unwilling to let it end. Somewhere during his passionate explosion he felt Sandy’s penis grow even larger and the next thing he knew Dale felt a tremendous gush of fluid strike him with surprising force. Unlike the first time he yielded to the inevitable and savored the unique feeling. Later, after Sandy had receded and rolled off him, Dale turned on his side and pressed his thighs together trying to retain his wife’s fluid. It felt warm and slippery within him and he lay very still, feeling incredibly fulfilled and content as he fell asleep.
CHAPTER SIX
Dale awoke to a now-familiar sensation of dampness beneath him. He could hear Sandy snoring lightly beside him so he eased himself out of the bed carefully, grabbed his robe and padded into the bathroom. His thighs and bottom were covered with the residue of sex so he opted for a bath instead of a shower and used Sandy’s bath crystals since there was nothing else. The warm, sudsy water felt great and he was tempted to just sit there and soak for a while, but he wanted to start a pot of coffee and make some breakfast so he grabbed a washcloth and started scrubbing. His mind wandered back to the previous night as he absently washed himself and Dale realized that he had wanted Sandy to take him, and had submitted to her as if she had always been the male in their relationship. It seemed so natural, so right, yet he knew it wasn’t. He knew that his feelings, his responses, were the result of the psychological changes that had affected both of them and it troubled him that the new emotions and personality traits seemed to be growing stronger.
He was jarred from his reverie when the washcloth brushed across his chest and he felt a strange, new fullness around his nipples. He glanced down at himself, and for the first time he noticed that his chest was swelling. In his sitting position his nipples appeared to be somewhat enlarged, and pushed out from two small conical protrusions. It was as if all the muscle tissue in his pectorals had shifted behind his nipples, but when he touched them and pressed against them Dale realized that they were definitely not muscles. They were soft and malleable and very sensitive, and they looked like a young girl’s breasts. Even worse, Dale noticed that his light chest hair was just falling out. There was hair in the water and more on the washcloth, and when he pulled at a few strands they came away with no resistance.
Dale was gripped by a sudden panic and he quickly finished his bath. More hair came away from his chest and arms when he toweled himself off, and he also noticed that his beard stubble seemed lighter and finer than normal. Instead of shaving he threw on his robe and went to wake Sandy, but he thought better of it and instead went into the kitchen and simply stood there for a moment, trying to think. He knew he had to calm down and think logically, but his emotions were running away with him and he couldn’t focus properly. He paced back and forth and wrung his hands, worrying about the consequences of his discovery. He knew all too well what was happening to him, and combined with the psychological changes that he could feel he was terrified that he would soon be entirely feminine. If that happened he believed that Dale Morton, as a unique human being, would cease to exist!
Finally Dale couldn’t stand it anymore. He hurried into the bedroom and shook Sandy until she awoke. He spoke rapidly, in an agitated state, as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. When she finally rose and faced him Dale discovered she was now taller than he, and he gasped.
"My God! You—You’ve GROWN! You’re taller than ME now!" He exclaimed, unconsciously backing away from his wife.
"Yeah, I noticed it last night, just before I noticed your, ah, chests," she replied as she yawned, adding: "Look, give me a minute to wake up. Make some coffee and I’ll meet you in the kitchen."
Dale nodded his head and left the room while Sandy pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and her robe. As she did she noticed that her own modest breasts seemed even more modest this morning. They were definitely smaller and when she examined them it seemed that they were somewhat less sensitive, especially her nipples. They seemed "sturdier," less supple, and they did not seem to shift as readily as they once had. Just to insure she wasn’t imagining it Sandy removed her robe and pulled one of her bras out of her dresser. When she put it on it only served to confirm her observation. There was extra room in the cups and her nipples no longer pushed into the fabric. Right then she decided they needed to take each other’s measurements and discover exactly what was changing—and how much.
Sandy found her husband seated at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee. She poured herself a cup and sat opposite him.
"Sandy, this has gone far enough," Dale told his wife. "I’m scared! If this keeps going how are we going to explain it? What about my job? Our entire lives could be ruined!"
Sandy reluctantly agreed with Dale. "Okay, you’re right," she admitted. "I’ll see if I can wish us back to normal."
"Do it now," Dale urged. "I don’t think you should waste a minute!"
Sandy took a sip of her coffee and looked across the table at Dale. Though she agreed things had gotten out of hand she couldn’t help thinking that she had really enjoyed her time as a male and would be sorry to see it end. She realized that she would never have found the confidence to speak up at work before the change, but now that she had—and had gotten the promotion—maybe that confidence would stay with her. Perhaps, now that she knew she had something more to offer her employer than pricing clothes and cleaning the changing rooms, she could build on that and be a good manager. Confidence and brains didn’t have a gender, she told herself. She could do it as a woman!
She was also pretty sure that Dale had learned his lesson. If nothing else he would probably be too scared of what she might do to him to make any more crude remarks. That thought made her smile, as did the knowledge that, from now on Dale would be helping out more around the house. She’d make sure of that!
"Okay," she agreed. "I’ll try it.
Dale watched as Sandy closed her eyes and concentrated on her wish. His wife seemed to be far away and Dale remained absolutely quiet, not wanting to break her concentration. After a minute she opened her eyes and looked at Dale. "Nothing happened!" He announced with a trace of panic in his voice.
"I noticed," Sandy replied dryly.
"Well?"
"Well what?"
"Why didn’t we change back?" Dale demanded.
"I have no idea," Sandy answered. "Maybe it takes some time to work."
"How long, do you think?" Dale asked.
"Honey, I haven’t the slightest idea," she responded. "Come to think of it, I’m not even sure the changes are the results of my wish."
"Maybe you just aren’t trying hard enough—Try again," Dale urged, and Sandy acquiesced, but after another effort involving intense concentration nothing happened.
Sandy tried a third time, then a fourth, but they remained exactly as they were. Dale was dashed into a deep depression and even Sandy became concerned. She consoled her husband with the idea that it would probably happen when they least expected it, like the original gender swap, but Dale was extremely skeptical, and practically hysterical. To that point Sandy had not considered the long-term implications of their situation, but as she thought about the problems they might—would—encounter she decided to prepare a contingency plan.
To be continued . . .
© 2000
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this
story must contact the author for permission.