WARNING: The first part of the following story contains scenes maybe unsuitable for the squeamish. There is a rape, drug use and some violence, but please do not be put off from reading the rest. It does improve. This first part sets the scene for the struggle of our hero-ine.

I wish to thank SaraUK for the graphics in the following story. She is undergoing personal tragedy at the moment and I wish to dedicate this story to her. Thanks too, for all those involved in the proofing and editing, Jan Wytte being the principal supporter. Hugs and thanks for all those others who suggested improvements, this includes Sapphire from Sapphire Place. Don't be put off by my warning, this is a love story.

 

The Transfer

by Prudence Walker

 

Stephanie was dying, She felt so cold lying there on the streets of Wellington. She knew it was from the blood loss, but it didn't help knowing the obvious. She wondered what the police would think when they found her body.

Turning her head, and feeling the cold sidewalk against her cheek she looked for the girl she had come to aid. She could just make her out in the darkness, a small crumpled form lying next to the Skip (Dumpster). She wasn't moving, and Stephanie wondered if she was dead already, from whatever it was, that the boy had injected in her arm.

She glanced down at her gown seeing the blood that now stained it. She had only worn it this one time and now it was ruined. She coughed and felt the pain from her multiple stab wounds.

Going over the events in her mind that ended up with her lying here, Stephanie tried to think if there was anything she would have done any differently.

===========

Stephanie was checking her makeup, to ensure it looked fine from every angle. Standing in her flat in front of the tall mirror in her bedroom, she primped and fussed with her hair.

'Damn wigs,' she thought, wishing she could have her own hair just as long. Sighing, she looked critically at her outfit, it was a black sheath dress that showed her every curve. She pouted at the lack of bulk on her hips. Her waist looked good, but it was the contrived shape derived by means of a corset and not natural.

Her chest showed a hint of cleavage, mainly due, to the two water filled balloons in the cups of her demi-bra. It allowed the loose flesh to be pulled up, supported by the balloons, preventing it from falling back.

Tonight was the night she had worked so hard for. At twenty years old, it was time for the world to see her, as she wanted to look and no longer as a nondescript young man. Looking vibrant like a typical young woman, it was her night to party. It was Friday night in the city, when all the hot-blooded boys drove their pride and joys tooling along the streets of Wellington, looking at the talent that usually came out dressed to kill. Tonight, she was going to be just one more of those girls to be admired and ogled.

Things had started out fine. Stephanie had driven the short way from her flat to the central city, parking close to Courtney place; a part of Wellington where the music rocked; and the pubs and nightclubs were packed. While stepping out, her heels clicking in a typically feminine rhythm, she noticed the way the young men's eyes were drawn to her as she passed them, seemingly oblivious to their stares.

Enjoying the fact that not only did she pass scrutiny, she was also getting the look.She glanced at the other girls that were out and about, checking on their fashions and feeling somewhat jealous of the way that, no matter what they wore, they still looked feminine and not to be mistaken for anything, but what they were. She liked to imagine wearing the outfits she saw the other girls had on, trying to capture the feel of the different textures and styles in her mind

After an hour, she decided to walk back to her car as the heels were starting to hurt. Passing a narrow alley that ran between two hotels, she heard a feminine yelp and some raised voices. Ever the gallant knight (despite her attire) she stopped and entered the alley. A slender blonde girl was protesting and struggling to rid herself of the punk that had her by the arm. He had a syringe in his other hand and was trying to inject its contents into the girl's arm.

Stephanie couldn't stand by and just do nothing, so she yelled at the guy to let the girl go, forgetting in her haste, to keep her voice in the upper registers.

The guy, looking round, hearing the masculine voice issuing from the attractive body of Stephanie, laughed and made a motion with his head. As Stephanie was about to move forward, two men, (obvious lookouts) came out of the shadows of two doorways and flanked Stephanie, grabbing her arms.

Suddenly she was dragged forward and the guy with the syringe sneered and said he didn't want any queers messing with his business. Stephanie kicked out at him with her heels in desperation, catching him in the crotch. Moaning in pain he brought up his hand and made a gesture that made Stephanie's blood run cold, the passing of his free hand across his throat.

Stephanie, terrified now, tried to struggle free, but then felt the sharp burning feel of a knife slicing deep inside, again and again. She slumped, falling to the ground and heard them laughing as they turned their attention back to the other girl.

===========

The sounds of high heels coming closer brought her out of her reverie. She heard a feminine gasp and a "Is she dead, look at all the blood." Another voice exclaimed that there was another one, further on.

Stephanie wondered if they would help by calling the cops. If they did, would the summoned assistance arrive in time? Thinking about her parents, she wondered if dying wasn't the easier option. She hated to think of what their reaction to her hobby would be.

As she heard the people run from the alley calling for help, she thought back to her past. Born Stephen Wallis, he had never really fitted into the typical boy's world of football and cricket. No, he was more into art and music, and avoided the physical sports with a passion. He had never developed any close relationships with the opposite sex; in fact, he was still a virgin in that department.

His foray into dresses started innocently enough, from when he was asked to play a female in a play when they were short handed. A bout of flu that was going the rounds among the students had struck hard leaving one of the female roles vacant. Steve, (as they called him) had agreed, although dubious, that he would make a passable female, was surprised when he saw himself en femme for the first time. That experience had woken something in him that wouldn't go back in the box. The feelings that came from the silky fabric as it caressed his skin, sent tingles all though his body and he had such a hard on, that it felt like he could fuck a telegraph pole.

From then on, he gathered together pieces of a feminine wardrobe from everywhere, second-hand stores, bought new, stolen from stores and even taken off secluded washing lines. A clothing appeal in the neighbourhood reaped untold benefits.

The bags of clothing, some containing shoes, were surreptitiously taken then gone though systematically and returned late at night bereft of the clothes in his size.

As time went on, he ventured further into the world of femininity and wanting to avoid the obvious problems with his parents he left his home in Auckland to study at Wellington University. His secret stash of clothes went with him, finally escaping the confines of the suitcase and took pride of place in his small unit's bedroom.

As her memories of the past few years fast-forwarded to the present day, there was a strange feeling coming over her body it felt as she was separating from it in some way.

Suddenly, without warning, she found that she was floating above her body. There was no pain and she thought she could see a silver-like thread, connecting her to the limp form lying on the ground. Curious, at her first out of body experience, she looked over at the other girl and found herself hovering over her. She saw that she was a blonde and very slim almost anorexic. She had multiple piercing in her ears and one in her eyebrow and another through her lip. Her clothes and makeup was in the style of a 'Bogan' (Punk-Goth) with black as the predominant colour.

Hearing sirens, Stephanie turned and looked towards the sounds and as she did so she felt something brush past her...'huh?... can something touch a disembodied spirit?'

Spinning round, she saw another luminous form also sporting a trailing "silver-like" cord, but this went directly into the blonde girl. Stephanie circled the other girl not noticing the way the cords twisted around each other.

===========

Mary was a sixteen year old street kid going on twenty, she had left school early because she was bored, she was bright, but the school classes she attended were overcrowded, and the teachers couldn't give the students all the attention they needed. So a potentially great student slipped away, due to the lack of the proper incentives.

Her parents were always on her back about attending school and finally she decided enough was enough, so she left. She took the name Mary, later adding the Poppins as a joke. She hated her given name and coupled with a surname of Swanson hadn't made it any easier in school. She'd had a hard time at first, until she learnt the rules of the streets. Trying to fit in, she'd adopted a look that would have shocked her parents had they seen her. Multiple piercings were the norm and the clothes were black as typified the local Bogan look and she soon took up smoking.

Then there were the cigarettes and the drugs that were passed around the gangs. She ended up becoming a smoker and a drug taker having tried most of them, and found that while on a high she could transcend her physical body and experience out of body flights. This was helpful, as she found that nothing was hidden from her in this state. She could visit home and see her parents without them knowing. Seeing her room brought back memories, some good and some bad. It often made her sad, knowing she couldn't return home to the comforts of her family.

After a year, she had a casual boyfriend who also supplied her with the drugs. She continued to harbourregrets and still wanted to do something with her life other than living on the streets. After several run-ins with the local constabulary she decided to try to do something different. It was amajor decision that led to her current state.

She had finally decided to try to get off drugs and see if she could get a job, anything so she could climb her way up. She kept her decision to come off drugs hidden from the leader of the gang, often faking a drug-induced state as she dumped the pills in the trash. Her boyfriend would not be happy if he found out. He wanted her under his thumb. Also if anyone found out, it could damage his status within the gang and they would give him hell over the fact he couldn't control his girl.

She had gone out to see if she could inveigle a few drinks for herself to take her mind off the insistent withdrawal symptoms, when Chad had caught up with her in the alley. He had two of his sidekicks with him and wanted her to try a new concoction of drugs he had acquired. When she said no, he got abusive, threatening her, it was then that the other 'girl' entered the alley and paid dearly for it. Just then, Chad injected her with an overdose of his special mix of narcotics and she felt the rush as she collapsed to the ground.

She felt herself lifting from her body a few minutes later, only to brush past another. Surprised, she stopped and saw it was the "the girl" who had come to her aide. They circled each other, curious, she reached out and tried to touch the other spirit form. There was resistance, like a field that prevented true contact.

The sirens that heralded the arrival of the ambulance men distracted her and she turned to look down at her body. The men had then called for the De-Fib unit upon finding them both without a pulse. The two disembodied forms watched as they attached an extra set of leads to the single unit and fired it up. The first police officer on the scene had moved Mary's body so it lay beside the other.

A call of "clear" signaled the jolt of electricity that arched the two forms simultaneously. Had an observer known what to look for, and been able to see the two silver cords that bound the two spirits to their material forms, he might have seen the small interruption in the cords integrity.

He might not have seen them rejoin, where they twisted around each other, to the wrong one. As the medics worked their magic with epinephrine injections and oxygen, the two spirits found themselves drawn back into the bodies of each other... then into blackness of unconsciousness.

===========

Stephanie woke slowly, head buzzing in protest at the bright light shinning in on her, closing her eyes she heard the usual noises associated with hospitals, monitors bleeping and the muted calls on the intercom. The smell of disinfectant was all pervading, and she could feel odd things on her body. She wondered what they had thought when they had stripped her naked. She moved her head and felt the pull of long hair trapped beneath her head.

'Why am I still wearing the wig,' she thought, but knew on some level that there was something odd. 'I felt the pull on my scalp... a wig doesn't do that. Unless I've been here a very, very long time.'

A door opened and she looked to see who it was.

"Ah, you're awake at last, you were one lucky young lady. A couple of minutes later and you would have been knocking on the pearly gates." A young nurse said, bustling around with calm assurance.

"What hap..." Stephanie was about to ask, then froze, as the musical voice of a girl seemed to issue from her mouth.

"Well..." the nurse answered her uncompleted question. "You had an overdose, of a mixture of cocaine and ecstasy, it was touch and go there for a while."

'Drugs? I was stabbed, unless they gave me drugs as well,' Stephanie thought to herself. 'Why is my voice so different?'

"Nurse, I was stabbed. I don't understand."

"No honey, that was the other patient. She or rather he is doing fine. He is recovering from surgery and will be here for a few days yet. Was she a friend?"

"Well... you could say I know him, but not her." Stephanie said slowly, trying to come to grips with the situation, somehow guessing what had happened.

"It's quite a fairly common thing now, to see men wearing female attire. I heard he looked very good and surprised the men attending the scene. I hope it wasn't too much of a surprise for you." She continued, assuming that they had both been close friends.

"Can I have a mirror please?" Stephanie wanted to see her face. She could tell without using her hands that she now had a female body, the jiggley weights on her chest were sending her the weirdest signals. And the moist cleft between her legs was definitely not that of a male.

The nurse came back with a hand mirror with a mother of pearl handle. Taking it, Stephanie took a deep breath and looked anxiously into it... shocked, she let the mirror fall to her side. Then, as if checking to see if the mirror still showed the same image, she raised it and took another look.

The face that was reflected wasn't ugly, exactly. The eyes although surrounded with black eye shadow, were pools of blue, which one could drown in. The nose was cute and upturned slightly, and the, (to Stephanie) jarring effect of a nostril ring and one through her eyebrow were the only repugnant things there, until you looked down to the lips where another passed though the lower lip.

The lips were black and yet Stephanie couldn't sense the telltale feel of lipstick. 'Were they tattooed?' she thought with a shudder. Her long blonde hair was matted with... 'Filth' was the word that came to mind. Obviously it hadn't seen shampoo or a brush in ages and her scalp itched. She hoped there were no lice in it. The hair was in dire need of attention and as she flicked it up with her fingers, she saw that her ears had three earrings each in them.

Her teeth were even but had some plague that made her cringe. As she opened her mouth the sight of the dumbbell though her tongue confirmed her worst fears. She hated the sight of those on other people and now she had one. It was too much... she started to weep, tears rolled down her grimed cheeks. The nurse turned around from checking some equipment and saw her weeping.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

Stephanie, too choked to say anything as the realization that she now had a female body, but one seemingly disfigured (in her eyes) by all the piercings and the outrageous makeup. Her dreams of maybe one-day, completing the transformation of her outer form from male to female had miraculously come true, but the body was far from ideal.

Stephanie indicated by a sweeping hand gesture her face and turned her head away as free tears welled up.

"You want to clean up your face?"

Stephanie nodded. " Can I get these rings out and this?" she asked tearfully, sticking her tongue out.

The nurse came closer, looked the barbell and started to reach out for it, pausing as she checked silently for Stephanie's okay. First she grasped the two ends and twisted them experimentally; then, she started unscrewing the ends releasing it from her tongue.

Stephanie smiled and moved her tongue around savoring the clean feel of it. With the nurse's help she soon had the nose and eyebrow ring out as well as the one through her lip and then the nurse went out to bring in a bowl of warm water, a soft sponge, and some bottles of assorted makeup items. After using a makeup remover tissue soaked in scented oils, the black eye shadow was removed; but the lips remained black, even after washing.

"Looks like you used a black marker pen on them," the nurse said in a puzzled manner. "Do you still want to remove it?"

"Yes please, I want to make a clean break," Stephanie replied.

"Wait... I might be able to help, it may sting and you'll need to use a moisturizer or a lipstick afterwards to stop them from cracking."

"Thank you."

Stephanie waited, while the nurse went out to get whatever it was, she needed. She wondered what was going to happen to her next, and what was the girl going to say when she woke to find herself in his old body. Lying there, she tentatively moved her hands down towards her new sexual equipment. While she was lying there not moving, she couldn't feel anything radically different.

She noticed the absence of her penis and balls as her thighs were touching together with nothing in between, but it wasn't shouting out loud, "Hey I'm here, your new vagina." If anything, the breasts were the main things that stuck out in her mind. She giggled at the thought, 'they stick out somewhere else too.' As her questing hand touched herself under the sheets she felt for the first time something really different. The sensations as her finger entered and touched her love button, sent shivers though her body and her breath caught as the strange signals overwhelmed her.

She blushed and rapidly pulled her hand away, as the nurse re-entered the room bearing a tray with some cotton swabs and a brown glass bottle. Fortunately, the nurse seemed unaware of her first clumsy explorations and she sat on the bed opening the bottle. Taking a swab she placed it on the open end and upturned the bottle saturating the swab with a cold liquid.

"What is that?' Stephanie asked worriedly.

"Just some butyl alcohol, it should rid you of most of the dye, just don't let any in your mouth." The nurse returned calmly.

It did sting, but most of it did come off, there was only a suggestion of the dye left and that could be hidden under lipstick. Her lips felt dry and she asked if she could have something to put on it. The nurse looked at her in sympathy and asked if she wanted to clean up first.

"There are some police down the hall, waiting to question you about the attack and the drugs. But if you want, I can let you into the shower so you can wash yourself and shampoo your hair, without them bothering you until later."

"That would be heavenly," Stephanie agreed.

The nurse turned and handed her a pink robe that was hanging on the door, assisting Stephanie as she wobbled unsteadily to her feet. Respectable and assisted by the nurse, she was led though a connecting door into an empty room and from there to a shower block.

"Will you be okay on your own, or do you want my assistance?" the nurse asked her.

"I'll be okay... I think I can manage," Stephanie smiled in reply.

"Okay I'll check in on you in ten minutes to see how you're going," the nurse said, as she showed her the soaps and towels.

When she left, Stephanie turned to the mirror and took off the robe, looking at her body, naked for the first time. The girl in the mirror was only about eighteen from her looks.

'I'm skinny and look at those arms with the telltale tracks of needle marks.' She thought disgustedly.

The bruises from the needles stood out on her pale skin, lifting her arms, she smelt the unsavory smell of sweat and dirt.

She stepped into the shower to turn the taps on and then finding some shampoo and soap, she gingerly entered the stream of hot water.

'Ouch, that stings,' she thought, as the pressure of the water hitting her, now, more sensitive skin was now too fierce.

Turning the taps back a tad, she reveled in the sensations the water had on her new equipment.

Shampooing her hair was now a much greater chore than she realised as the extra weight of it wet pulled on her scalp. The first rinse of her hair made the floor of the shower turn dark grey from the ingrained grime.

It took two more applications of shampoo to rid it of all the dirt. She started to scrub her body clean, but changed it to a gentler rubbing as her skin started protesting the harsh treatment.

After about fifteen minutes, she considered herself clean. The nurse had knocked on the door and said she'd return after being told by Stephanie that she was still okay and just needed a little more time.

Wrapping a towel around her chest she smiled at the way her breasts supported it, preventing it falling. She rubbed at her hair with another while she looked at herself in the mirror. She felt clean at last and the faint scent from the shampoo made her smell like a woman, lifting her spirits.

Wrapping her hair up turban style with a towel, then she put on the robe. She opened the door and peered out. There was no one in the corridor, so she walked down it, looking for the room that she had found out from the nurse, had her old body in.

Standing outside, she hesitated. Wondering if she could go though with her plan. Finally, gathering resolve, she pushed open the door to see her old body lying in a bed, bandaged up, and still asleep.

Glancing quickly around, she saw the room was empty apart from a monitor attached to her old body. Quickly, before she was discovered, Stephanie searched to see if the clothes she was wearing the night of the attack were here in the room.

 

Ten minutes later saw a blonde girl with wet hair and a black sheath dress walking out of the hospital and the waiting police sitting outside a particular room were left behind.

Stephanie was glad to get out of there. The strappy sandals were rather big for her new feet, but tightening the straps had made it possible to keep them attached. The blood hadn't shown up on the black dress and she hadn't found any under garments, (probably cut away in the hospital) so she felt rather exposed and her breasts, unrestrained, bounced unnervingly.

Even knowing she had no money, she flagged a taxi and gave instructions to drive to where she last parked her car. Giving him a wait while I get the money excuse, she reached under the mudguard to retrieve the spare key. She paid the taxi driver with money she kept in the glove compartment for emergencies. She then proceeded to drive back to her unit.

===========

Mary slowly awakened to a dull ache in her side and back and wondered what had happened. That wasn't the only thing she noticed, she realised that she was laying on her stomach, a position that normally could be uncomfortable for her.

At first she couldn't think why her breasts weren't complaining under the pressure until she realised that it felt like they were gone. 'What happened,' she thought.

Trying to turn over was painful, as the stitches in her wounds, pulled at her skin as she twisted around. As she rolled over she felt something move in her groin and she realised with a feeling of dread just what that thing was.

'How did I get one of those, and where're my breasts?' she wondered. As she opened her eyes, squinting against the sunlight streaming into the room, she saw several people standing near her.

"Stephen... thank god you're alright," came a worried sounding voice from the woman standing there.

'Stephen??' who's Stephen?' Mary thought to herself. Then the penny dropped as a wisp of memory of the night in the alley, came back to her. 'I went back into that other body... and she's a he...oh my god.'

"Stephen can you talk to us? You scared the crap out of us when the police told us," a male voice spoke, intruding into her thoughts.

"Yeah," Mary whispered, unsure of what to say, the very un-Mary like voice issuing from her mouth, confirming her change.

"Oh, Stephen! The police told us everything, even what you were wearing when they found you. Luckily, you had some identification in your handbag so they could contact us. I can understand that you'd be reluctant to tell us that you like to dress in women's clothes, son. But, is that why you left home when you did? Do you feel that your father and I are so intolerant, that we would disown you because of a fetish? We love you. You should have come to us about it.

"Who are you? Who am I...where am I?... I don't remember anything," Mary said trying to see if the 'amnesia' ploy would help.

She watched as the two parents of this body glanced worriedly at each other and then looked at the doctor standing next to them.

"Ahem, well, it's not unknown to have a memory loss after something like this, even though we found no head trauma." He answered, moving forward and checking Mary's eyes with a small light.

"Honey we are your parents, don't you remember us?" the woman asked sadly, seeing the lack of recognition in her son's eyes.

"My name is Stephen?" Mary conceded slowly, thinking to throw them a crumb of hope.

"Yes, Stephen Wallis. Honey just rest yourself, maybe some of your memory will come back. We flew down from Auckland when we heard; the police have located your flat and will bring some clothes and personal stuff for while you're here. The police are now looking for the girl that was with you at the time. She left the hospital before they could question her, seems she is known to belong to a Bogan group and into drugs and other stuff."

"Your not into drugs too, are you son?" the father asked sternly.

Mary stretched her arms out, examining the clear unmarked skin.

"No," she paused momentarily, then added, "dad...see?" she indicated her arms.

"He's telling the truth, there were no drugs found in his system," the Doctor confirmed.

"We'll be back later son, we need to get a hotel room here, but when visiting time comes around, we'll see you again," Stephen's dad said, taking the woman by the hand and walking to the door.

Mary lay back, wondering how the poor guy in her body was coping; after all, he did put his life at risk for hers. Now he was stuck as her, with all the problems she had been stuck with. She felt a little guilty at the feeling of relief of having left those problems behind. The pangs that had been with her since her last dose of drugs were gone, even the urge to have a cigarette was thankfully absent.

Surely being a guy with a clean record must be easier than living on the streets as a recovering addict. Also being female, having to defer to the whims of the group's leader.

Even having become a male with cross-dressing tendencies, didn't really worry her. Especially as Stephens's parents seemed to accept it reasonably well. Maybe she could take the option of having a sex change and returning back to her birth sex.

At least she knew how to live as a female, but that was a decision for later. She was curious to experience life as a male; maybe if she liked it, she may just remain a male and see what happens.

===========

Stephanie drove up to his flat and got out. Walking up the path she saw the neighbour peering out from behind the curtains. 'Nosy woman,' she thought as she felt for the spare key over the door lintel.

Opening the door, she hurried in, locking it behind her. 'Now, let's get dressed properly,' she thought, going straight to her drawers.

Ten minutes later, she looked and felt much better. Dressed casually in a stylish skirt- blouse combination and satin and silk undergarments, she went to do her makeup. She managed to look respectable and covered the remnants of the old Bogan look. Now that she had time to think, she realised there was something wrong. She felt jittery and on edge, as if she wanted something, but wasn't sure what that something was. Looking at her arms again, she guessed she was having withdrawal symptoms.

'Damn,' she thought. 'as if I don't have enough on my plate, now I have to deal with a drug addiction I never started. I never even got the experience of any highs from it.' Disgustedly, she cursed ever stepping out of her apartment that night.

Knowing she couldn't stay here for long, she found a suitcase and started packing most of her female wardrobe. She looked regretfully at the shoes that were now too large for her size 6 feet and left them sitting there. Taking all her emergency cash, she stuffed it into her purse and looked at the credit cards.

The ATM card she could use, but the others had Stephen Wallis on them and so she left them lying on the table. She slipped the ATM card into the hidden pocket of the purse, knowing that to be discovered with it on her present body would only cause problems.

Starting to get something to eat, she was startled to hear a heavy authoritative knocking on the door. Opening the door, she was dismayed to see the blue uniforms of two policemen standing there.

"Well if it isn't our young friend, Mary 'Poppins,'" one of the two men said with a sneer. "What are you doing here? Popping in for more drugs? I hear you skipped past us at the hospital." He continued in a stern voice. He motioned for the other officer to cuff her and entered the flat. Wandering around he entered the bedroom. Seeing the open suitcase, he asked. "Moving in… or out, Mary?" he questioned.

'Mary Poppin's? My name is Mary Poppin's,' Stephanie thought incredulously. 'I hope that's just a nickname, what a dorky handle.'

'I hear the guy here is one of those perverts that loves to wear women's clothes,' one of the officers said, smirking. "I'll bet he loves to suck cock," he added, laughing.

"He's not a pervert you pervert," Stephanie retorted, trying to defend her old self.

"Oh and you'd be a great judge of that, wouldn't you, Miss do-whatever-it-takes. Did he borrow your best clothes?" he asked, pushing her down on the bed.

"It was just a bet, I helped him, and it wasn't his fault." Stephanie pleaded, trying for damage control. "Do you see any other clothes other than mine here?" she added trying to pass on the idea that these were indeed, her clothes.

'Ah ha! What about these then?" the officer said triumphantly, holding up the extra pairs of size 10 shoes.

"You idiot," she bluffed. "Those were in the same box we bought as the ones he was wearing, it was a job lot."

"Idiot, am I?"

Stephanie saw her mistake in antagonizing the officers, now their ire was directed at her. She tried to placate things by smiling and trying to pass it off as humour. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded, but you seemed to be looking for something that wasn't there, not the simple truth," She countered. "He came to my aide when I was attacked and left for dead from an overdose of drugs."

"That's another thing. Who was it that gave you the drugs, your boyfriend again? You'll never see 20 if you keep this up," he warned, with a touch of concern.

He took out a cigarette and lit it, blowing a cloud of smoke in her face. With a shock she felt a surge in her body and some of the subconscious niggling irritations seemed to abate slightly, as she inhaled the smoke. 'Oh no! Don't tell me this body is a smoker too,' she wailed silently, as realization dawned on her.

The officer, seeing her eyes widen, offered the fag to her, and reluctantly she took it with a feeling of mixed emotions. She hated smokers normally, thinking it was a disgusting habit and hating the smell of stale smoke, but the craving grew until she lifted it to her lips and sucked a lung full of smoke.

'Oh god…' the sensations as the smoke hit her, shocked her with its intensely seductive like pull. It felt like something had numbed the craving instantly giving her a feeling of well being.

Stephanie dragging her thoughts back to the officer's question, remained silent, not having any idea of who it was that was in the alley that night. The officer who knew Mary came closer looking at her carefully. She managed with a great effort of will to snub out the cigarette with an odd expression of regret and disgust.

"It looks as if you're trying to get out of that life." He spoke quietly, indicating the absence of the rings and the garish makeup. "Unfortunately we have to take you in for questioning, then we'll see about getting you on a methadone program."

Stephanie started to protest that she didn't need any drugs to kick the habit of the previous bodies owner, but seeing the way the officer's eyes hardened, she let the protest die. Perhaps later, she could avoid the treatment, as she thought she could manage to resist the pangs of withdrawal if they didn't get any worse. She was pinning her hopes on the fact that the original Stephanie had gone though the worst of it already and that the swap had further isolated the need. She guessed that she may have been off drugs for a while, but hadn't stopped smoking, which would account for the greater need for tobacco.

Either Mary had nearly passed the point of needing drugs or there was more than a slight immunity passed on with the transfer of souls. Possibly, because she'd never mentally experienced the rush from the highs of drug use, the feelings were muted to a bearable level. At least she hoped so; the cravings for cigarettes might be harder to kick, as she would be exposed to its seductive scent nearly everywhere she went, and would have to give them up by her own strength of will.

Making sure they took with them the suitcase of clothes, she spent an uncomfortable few hours being processed and questioned by the police. She couldn't tell them about her transfer or anything about the attack, other than what she as 'Stephanie' had observed.

She did find out some important facts, according to the police, she had been in trouble before and remanded to a juvenile court on charges of drug possession and suspected prostitution. On their records, her age had been recorded as twenty, but she guessed Mary had lied about that.

She was then driven out to a half way house for recovering addicts, where she found herself shown into a small cramped room by a stout looking woman with a stern, no nonsense attitude.

The room was sparsely decorated, filled mostly, with a double bunk and a small bureau. A pasty-faced girl sitting on the lower bunk introduced herself as Susan. She looked like a strong wind would blow her away and was obviously in need of medication and some proper meals.

Sighing, Stephanie took her suitcase and started unpacking a few items into one of the empty drawers. She didn't want to be here any longer than need be, hopefully she could start looking for some sort of job, maybe at McDonald's so that she could get a place of her own. She need time to work out the ramifications of this change and where it was going to take her.

Losing several years in the exchange of bodies was going to make it awkward to get a job, especially without any records. A dream came true. She was now fully female. 'Yeah right,' she thought as she climbed up onto her bunk. 'Underage, no identity, a police record as a drug user, ugly and maybe disfigured for life, no money, this was a nightmare not a dream.' She felt her emotions boil over and she started sobbing into the worn and tired pillow.

"You okay?" Susan inquired hesitantly, popping her head up next to her.

"Just peachy," Stephanie snapped, sarcastically, and then regretted it instantly, knowing Susan was only trying to help.

"I'm sorry I snapped, but everything has just gone down the toilet," Stephanie explained tearfully.

"I can understand that, I'm not exactly feeling flush myself," she grinned ruefully. " I feel like I'm sitting in the toilet bowl of life with some-one else's finger on the button."

"I wish I had a nicer body, this wasn't exactly how I'd dreamed looking like," Stephanie sniffled.

Susan snorted… "I'll swap you, your body just needs filling out and you'd be beautiful," she added.

"I still think I looked better in my other body… um, never mind, I'm just rambling."

Susan never blinked an eye, probably thought that Stephanie was delusional, an occupational hazard common with drug users.

"Well, compared to me, you're Miss Universe," Susan sighed, offering her a cigarette.

Stephanie looked longingly at it then turned away, burying her face in the pillow and trying not to give in to the ever-increasing craving.

===========

Mary had decided to do her erstwhile hero a favour by making a call to her only trusted friend. Using the public telephone in the corridor, she talked for some minutes claiming to be a close friend of Mary's. She felt he deserved a chance at happiness; maybe he could make a go at her life where she had failed.

Just then, her, or at least Stephen's parents entered the ward and placed some clothes supplied by the police, into the small bedside locker.

"We talked with the doctors, and Stephen, if you want, we can take you back to Auckland tomorrow, where you can fully recover at home." said Stephen's father, pleasantly.

Mary nodded her agreement, which made Mrs. Wallis smile and reach out to her son with a hug.

 

"Apparently we were mistaken about you," her father went on

"When the police questioned your friend: Mary, she explained why you were wearing the women's clothes. It was due to a bet.

Mary was surprised at hearing about herself that way, but thinking about it; it was an obvious choice. Where else would you go, but back to what was familiar? She wondered what Stephen, as Mary was thinking about now and she hoped he wasn't in trouble with the police.

He was still protecting her with the lie about the clothes. Now, she had the option of a clean slate as Stephen, or she could try to reclaim what she could of her femininity. By confessing she was a transsexual, she might even get help in having a sex change.

Mary was in two minds about it, even being injured and suffering some discomfort, she could tell this body was fit, it felt so powerful compared to her own puny body. No one could force her to do anything unpleasant against her will any more. Maybe she could try it for a while and see.

'Her parents' were filling her in about details of Stephen's life trying to see if anything would trigger a memory recall and Mary was soaking it all up like a sponge. That night, after lights out, she lay back in bed, thinking about everything. It was like a miracle from god: to be able to start afresh, with loving parents, far from all the reminders of these last years.

===========

Stephanie had a troubled night with vivid dreams of dark alleys and needles. She could feel the terror building up, as her small body was pushed and pulled around by unnamed dark figures, demanding she service them with her mouth. These were interspersed with images of police arresting her on prostitution charges, as she walked the streets, trying to sell her body for drugs. There were also Images of people offering her cigarettes and her accepting them with payment of sex.

She woke in a cold sweat, barely suppressing a scream, as the images lingered in her mind. As reality's cold light filtered though her fevered brain, she realised she had only dreamed it. The thought of some of the dream's scenario's made her blood run cold, especially as she now had a body capable of doing those acts.

An hour later, after a shower and a breakfast that tasted curiously flat, she felt more alive. Alone in the shower had been interesting, she hadn't previously explored her body intimately. There were people either coming or going in the hospital and having a roomy didn't allow her the privacy to indulge.

She had soaped up her body and explored every point and crevice of it, marveling at the differences. She liked the way her breasts felt when she gently fondled them, and the way her nipples hardened into points.

She discovered was how sensitive a clitoris was. The rush of feelings that came from it made her knees weaken and she slumped against the shower wall enjoying the feeling that surged though her body. Only the cooling of the hot water reserves prevented her staying longer. Luckily, her hair had already been rinsed out after more shampoo and conditioner applications.

She had borrowed Susan's hairdryer and soon had it dry and tied back in a high ponytail. She wanted to have it seen to professionally, but decided that was a low priority at the moment. First she needed to establish her identity and get out of the half way house and into her own digs.

Wandering into the community kitchen she managed to make herself an omelet sandwich, by just beating an egg and frying it in a small pan with butter and adding salt and pepper, then placing it between two slices of bread. She moved over to get a cup of coffee from the machine. As she was taking her breakfast over to the tables, she spotted Susan sitting there beckoning to her, so she joined her for some company and some information.

The strange flat taste to the meal made her wonder if there was something wrong with this body. Just as she was finishing, Stephanie was called to the office where a doctor insisted on examining her. Protesting that she was off the drugs, and needed no medication for it, seemed to fall on deaf ears. Finally in frustration, she yelled at him, saying that if she was a current user, where were the fresh tracks. After a blood sample was taken and a promise to see him tomorrow, she escaped his unwanted ministrations.

Frustrated at being treated as the child she appeared to be, she went to her room with tears in her eyes. She grabbed her purse and went out, bent on withdrawing all the cash she could from her old account. Looking out for a money machine she ran into a boy as he was backing out of a store with a box in his hands.

"Hey! Watch what… Mary? My god I thought I'd… never mind. How are you babe?" he said worriedly, putting the box down and reaching out for her.

"Do I know you?" Stephanie said, without thinking.

"Me? Of course doll, don't tell me you have forgotten your main man," he replied in surprise. His eyes narrowed in thought, and Stephanie thought she saw a crafty look, flit across his face.

"I told you not to do so many drugs, it's finally affected your memory," he said with a smirk. "Do you remember what happened?" His tone was not that of someone who cared but more a one of curiosity of what she knew.

Stephanie wasn't sure what to say. Did she go along with the amnesia thing? Or; should she try to brush him off? She was very aware of her vulnerability. Not only her, now, smaller size, but she had to remember she didn't have the same strength she did as a man.

"I don't remember, I was dead there for a while and everything's gone. I don't know who I am, or who you are, so please leave me alone," she said, hoping he might say something that would help her get some information on herself.

He turned and picked up the box, placing it into the back of a Holden Ute parked at the curb. He turned back and grabbed her hand, pulling her inside the cab before she could protest.

"Your name is Mary Poppins, at least that's what you told me. Chad is my name, but you call me Stud." He said as he started the engine. "Right now, you and I need to get re-acquainted," he continued with cheesy grin as he pulled out into traffic.

Stephanie was petrified, unable to think. This was like a horrible dream, powerless against the strength of this person who seemed to think he owned her.

Driving for a few minutes, while Chad filled her in as to what he expected of her, she saw that they were headed towards Newtown (ironically) the older part of Wellington, where Chad pulled the Ute into a narrow garage. The house was run down, needing paint on it's exposed weatherboards.

She had to wait for him to exit the cab, as the garage didn't allow enough room for both doors to be opened.

Climbing out though the driver's side, Chad took her arm and led her inside. She blinked in the dim light thanks to the drawn blinds and stood, while Chad locked the door and then peered out the curtains checking the road. Stephanie could smell the mustiness of a poorly ventilated house, and the smell of something else, (Marijuana?) lingering in the air.

Stephanie finally found herself able to speak, as fear gave way to desperation.

"Please just let me go, I'm not the person you knew." She cried.

"Well that's fine with me, I can easily fix that, right now." With that, he dragged her protesting, into a dingy bedroom.

The next few hours felt like living a nightmare for Stephanie. First he tore her clothes off her as she struggled against his advances. Then, he shed his pants and pulled out the biggest cock she had ever seen. It was huge with prominent veins showing along its hardened length.

He pulled her head towards it with intentions made clear. She felt ill at the thought of having it pressed into her mouth and she moved her head aside in time to avoid the first thrust. Chad then gripped both sides of her head, preventing a repeat as he tried once more to enter.

She gritted her teeth together as its musky scent reached her nose. Seeing this, Chad hit her around the head, making her cry out at the shock. He thrust forward, entering, while she gagged. She bit down hard, suddenly tasting the coppery tang of blood, which earned her another belt around the head, as he screamed invectives at her.

As it entered her throat, repulsed, she gagged and started to throw up, choking, as vomit started coming out of the only exit left…her nose.

She convulsed, trying to get air into her burning lungs and Chad, smelling the vomit and feeling it's acid burn on his wounded member, backed off. Screaming that she was going to pay dearly for it, he whacked her with his fist, knocking her back on the bed, stunned.

Laying there, spitting out vomit, she felt like a rag doll, She didn't resist, fearing to goad him any further. She lay there trying to block out the feelings coming from her bruised face. Fear filled her like nothing she had ever felt before in her life, she felt helpless against his attacks.

Chad stood and looked down at Stephanie as she emptied her stomach contents onto the bed. Disgusted, he shouted out, calling for someone called Christine.

Stephanie rolled over on her side to see a young woman with a plaster cast on one leg coming into the room. She gasped in surprise at seeing Stephanie there.

"I thought…" she started to say, then stopped, looking at Chad.

"Get her cleaned up, I want her ready by tonight to entertain a certain 'client' of mine," he snarled. He then stormed out to the bathroom to tend to his wounded and stinging dick, leaving the stricken girl on the bed. Hearing cursing, Stephanie flinched, fearing for her safety. Moments later, he called out that he was going to the chemist to get something to put on it, and they heard the front door slamming shut as he left the house.

To be continued…

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Prudence Walker. 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.