Story Notes: Added by the admin from the archives

"What are you babbling about?" I asked Wendy, my blushing bride of three years.



Wendy is a gorgeous woman of twenty five with nice firm 34 "B" breasts, long slender legs and a body to die for. In case you're interested, she's five seven and weighs 125 pounds, her measurements are 36-28-38. I'm four inches taller and considerably heavier, about 75 pounds heavier. My hair in contrast to Wendy's natural blonde, is dark brown.



We had met about a year after we graduated from college. She was working in marketing for the Penjan Corporation and I was a junior account executive for the same company. It had been a whirl wind romance that lasted all of three weeks. In spite of our brief courtship, we both felt that there could never be anyone else in our lives, with the possible exception of a kid or two.



The night this all began, we were laying in bed reading. The perfect end to a relaxing evening. She was wearing her long "Not-tonight-I'm-not-in-the-mood" nightgown that she usually wore just before she had her period. I was wearing my customary pair of undershorts and T-shirt.



"I was saying, this book on magic is really fascinating. You wouldn't believe some of the spells in it."



I glanced over at the old book Wendy had bought that afternoon in a used book store. She had a knack for finding unusual things like the book. Most of it ended up in the garage, forgotten until the next time we had a yard sale. Surprisingly, we usually made a profit when we resold the items.



"Like what?" I asked, only half interested.



"Like this section on transference, for example. It says that you can swap body parts, change body characteristics or even exchange your entire body with someone else's," she replied.



"Humph," I snorted, "we do that quite frequently. Swap body parts, I mean."



Wendy glanced at me, an odd look on her face. "We do? When?"



"Every time we make love," I grinned. I ogled her firm, sensuous breasts under her nightgown. "Just what we would be doing right now, if it wasn't for your 'friend'."



"Is that all you men ever think about? Sex?" Wendy asked jokingly. She loved sex just as much as I did, except around the time of her period. It was frustrating, but I could live with her not wanting to have sex far better than those times when it made her bitchy. "Besides," she continued, "my 'friend', as you call it isn't all that friendly at times."



Tell me about it, I thought. "Maybe not, but you usually act as though it's the end of the world when you have it."



"Only because we want to have a baby. Having my period is a sure sign we failed again."



Wendy's off handed remark, intentionally or not, had touched a sore spot for both of us. "It's not as if we haven't tried, you know. It's not my fault you're not pregnant."



Wendy bit her lower lip and shook her head, obviously fighting back tears. "I just wish you knew what it feels like, Nicky. It's like I'm somehow less than... complete."



Realizing that Wendy was upset, I put my own book down and put my arms around her shoulders. Pulling her close I tried to comfort her. "Wendy, that's nonsense and you know it. You're 100 % woman and a beautiful one at that! As for a baby, well, we're still young. Give it some time, it will happen!"



"I'll bet you say that to all the girls," Wendy laughed as her mood changed suddenly.



"Nope, just the one I'm married to."



"That's nice," Wendy said softly, tilting her head up toward mine. We kissed a few times and Wendy seemed to calm down a little.



After awhile, she gently pushed me away and got out of bed. I was about to ask her what she was doing when she walked stiffly to the bathroom. I realized from the way she was walking that she was going to change her tampon.



When she returned, it was obvious that the conversation had ended, so we turned off the lights and went to sleep.



I hadn't thought much more about the incident that night until about a week later. We were once again in bed, reading.



"Nicky?"



"Hum?"



"Remember that book on magic I found?'



"The one with those crazy body change spells?"



"Yes. I'm going to try one out. Just to see if it works," she said, leaning over to nuzzle my neck. She had avoided my cheeks because of the whisker stubble there.



"Assuming that it did work, which it probably won't, why would you want to?" I asked, starting to respond to her gentle caresses.



"Oh, just to see if would," she repeated. "Aren't you just a little curious?'



Seeing that I wasn't going to get her off the subject, I replied honestly. "Maybe just a little."



"I thought you would say that," she laughed. "Why don't we try a spell tonight. Just to satisfy my, our curiosity."



"All right," I said, knowing that I would not get any peace until I agreed. Wendy as sexy and beautiful as she is, can be so damned stubborn at times.



"I was hoping you would agree," she said excitedly. She pulled away from me and leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve the old book from the bottom shelf of her nightstand.



"As if I would get any peace, until I did," I mumbled, as she fumbled around.



Wendy straightened up, holding the book on magic. She began thumbing excitedly through the pages. About half way through she stopped, read a few sentences, then grinned.



"Yes, this one is perfect!" She glanced at me, a wicked looking smile on her face. "Now this is a spell that I think, no, I know you'll just love. I'm sure I will..."



"If it works, you mean."



She smirked, "Yes, if it works."



The tone of her voice told me that she was convinced that it would. My curiosity aroused, I tried to look at the title at the top of the page. I wasn't sure that I wanted any changes to my body that were too drastic, if it actually worked that is. Wendy quickly maneuvered the book so I couldn't see it.



"No, don't look! I want it to be a big surprise," she giggled.



"What are you going to do? Give me a bigger penis?"



Wendy giggled again, "No... although that's a thought. I might just do that later, if this spell works."



"If not that, then what?"



"That would be telling. But it might be something a little kinky, like making you want to wear my panties instead of trying to get into them all the time," Wendy grinned wickedly. "Or maybe fix it so that you would have to do something I know you'd absolutely hate, like turning you into a five year old for a year or so and make you go through school again."



"You wouldn't dare," I said shuddering. Having to go through kindergarten again would be sheer torture.



"Just kidding dear," Wendy laughed.



Sighing, I laid back. "Okay, let's get this over with so we can get some sleep. Tomorrow's a workday, remember."



Wendy sat up and crossed her legs Red Indian style. Placing the book in her lap she began to intone some nonsense. It seemed to go on forever, as she spoke in a soft, seemingly endless, monotone, I grew sleepy. As I drifted off to sleep, she was still reading from the book.







Our alarm clock woke us up at 6:30 the following morning. Neither Wendy or I were morning people, so it was our usual struggle to get up. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked over at my wife. "Morning beautiful," I said somewhat sleepily.



Wendy opened her eyes and grinned at me. She appeared to be unusually alert for this time in the morning. "Morning, yourself," she paused, watching me for a moment or two, "Well, do you feel any different?"



I looked quizzically at her. "Well... now that you mention it... no."



A look of disappointment spread over her face. "You don't? But..."



"But what, dear?" I remembered the conversation we'd had just before I had fallen asleep the night before. "Oh, you mean the spell? I don't think it worked. Just as I suspected." I answered a little smugly.



"Oh well, I tried," Wendy sighed. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed.



I followed her example. We sat silently for a few moments, trying to wake up.



"Why don't you get into the shower first honey, while I go fix some coffee," Wendy finally suggested, yawning.



It was the same suggestion I had heard nearly every morning since we'd married. Still, it sounded like a good plan to me so I stood up and pulled my T-shirt and undershorts off. Behind me I heard, or thought I'd heard, Wendy giggle softly. When I turned to look, she had turned away and was pulling on her robe.



Still two thirds asleep, I stumbled into the bathroom, relieved the pressure in my bladder and turned on the shower. While the water was heating up, I dug a new razor out the linen closet, the second new one of the week. Testing the water with my hand, I stepped into the shower to wash up and shave my heavy beard. I had picked up the habit of shaving in the shower when I'd been in the military. In spite of the usual hurry up and wait, there really isn't much time between reveille and breakfast and you learn to cut corners wherever you can. Besides, the steam seems to soften the whiskers, making it easier to scrape the blade over my face.



I stood under the stream of hot water for a few minutes trying to wake up. Finally awake enough to realize that I had to get moving, I gripped the handle of my razor between my teeth and shot a spurt of shaving cream on to my hand. I rubbed my hands together and the cream foamed up nicely. Seconds later I was spreading it over my face.



Almost instantly, I knew something wasn't right. Instead of feeling familiar tough bristles under my finger tips, there was nothing more than smooth skin. Surprised, I turned around and washed the foam away. I felt my cheeks again. They felt as smooth and as soft as a baby's bottom!



Something was decidedly odd going on. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, I hurriedly finished my shower and got out to dry off. I glanced at the bathroom clock and was astonished to see that I had been in the shower only half as long as usual.



Grabbing my towel I started to dry off and received the shock of my life. Every single hair on my body, with the exception of my eyebrows, on top of my head and a tiny, closely trimmed heart shaped patch of silky blonde hair in my groin, was gone! Even my penis and testicles, which had had some hair before, were completely hairless!



Now, some people may not have noticed this right away, but as my heavy beard might indicate, I was quite hirsute. It was like suddenly going bald, all over my body!



Astonished, I was inspecting the small patch of neatly trimmed blonde pubic hair and the area below it, when the door to the bathroom opened and Wendy walked in.



"Well, how do you like it?" she grinned when she saw what I was staring at. "I trimmed it into a little heart shape, just for an extra added touch."



"You did this to me?" I asked, astonished. "But how did you shave me last night without waking me up? And why did you bleach my pubic hair blonde?"



She smiled broadly. "I didn't any of that, honey, it was the spell I experimented with. It obviously worked!."



"Spell?" I asked, momentary forgetting our conversation the night before. "What spell?"



"The spell I used to get rid of that damned bristly beard of yours. The only way I could think doing it was to change your horrid old body hair to match mine." Wendy ran her finger tips across my chin, then my cheeks. "Hmm, your skin is so nice and soft! I hadn't expected that, or the thinning of your eyebrows."



My eyebrows? I glanced at the mirror, they did seem to be a little narrower and a little lighter in color.



"But the good news is, you won't have to shave ever again," Wendy giggled. She removed her robe and nightgown exposing a trim body with no more hair than I now had. "Unless you want to keep your legs and underarms free of stubble or touch up your cute little heart now and then."



"But why?" I asked bewildered.



"Because your beard always irritated my skin and you always take so damned long in the shower. It really cut into the time I need to get ready myself. Now that you have what is essentially a duplicate of my body hair, shaving a beard won't be a problem."



Even though I had never particularly fond of shaving every day, this was a little too much. "Change me back!"



"Nope. I like you like this." She reached out and gently stroked my smooth face. "I can't wait until we make love tonight. No more whisker stubble! Your skin is so deliciously soft, too. I just love it," she sighed.



"Wendy," I began, growing very annoyed.



She placed her finger tips over my mouth. "Shush. Give it a little time, I'm sure that you'll appreciate the extra time in the mornings. Maybe with the extra time we can make love in the mornings more frequently."



"Wendy..." I began again, a little stronger this time. Wendy sighed and dropped her hand to her side.



"Oh, all right. I'll give you back your beard," she said stepping into the shower. She grinned at me over her shoulder. "In about a month or so."



"At least let me have my body hair back now," I pleaded. I hadn't realized how cold it is without a layer of hair on your naked body.



"Nope," she said turning on the shower. I stared helplessly at her for a moment.



"If you won't give me my hair back, would you at least change what's left to its original color? What will people say, if they saw this little blonde patch of fur when the hair on top of my head is brown?"



"Nicky, when you've got your clothes on neither the color of your pubic hair or the amount of hair on your body shows. So what's the difference if your body is hairless, or the color your pubic hair doesn't match the hair on your head, anyway?"



"Well, none, I guess," I admitted reluctantly after thinking about it for a moment.



"Well, there you are, if it doesn't show, it's not a problem, right?" Wendy said as she turned on the shower. "The answer is still no."



I stared at the closed shower curtain for a moment. I realized two things at that moment, she was right, my lack of body hair wouldn't show unless I took my clothes off and she was in one of her stubborn moods again. Turning to the mirror over the sink, I studied my beardless face for a few minutes. Other than not having a trace of a beard anywhere and having a slightly clearer complexion, I looked pretty much as I always had.



Knowing that there wasn't a thing I could do about it until Wendy had had her fun, I brushed my teeth and applied deodorant to my underarms. It felt odd and strangely cool not having any hair under my arms, but the deodorant went on more or less normally.



It felt even weirder pulling my pants on over my hairless legs. I was amazed that the fabric felt a little rougher than when I'd had hair down there, one of the negative effects of having Wendy's softer, obviously more sensitive skin. Wendy didn't seem to mind when she put jeans on, so it was just a matter of getting used to it, I sighed.



In spite of my protests, I was kind of intrigued with the idea of not having to shave everyday.







"Well, how did it go today," Wendy asked when I returned home that evening.



"Okay, I guess," I replied. "It just a little hard getting used to not having any whiskers. I think I stroked my face a dozen times, just to check."



"Let me try." Wendy ran her hand over my cheek. "Hum, still smooth and as soft as a baby's bottom," she purred.



"Or your face." I said, "Sure you won't reconsider?"



"Give it some time, honey. In a few more days, you'll be use to not having to shave. By the end of the month, I'll bet you'll have almost forgotten how, and won't want your whiskers back."



"Or my body hair?" I asked sarcastically.



"Or that either," she smiled. "Come on, let's have no more talk about hair that isn't there any more and eat dinner."



The subject momentarily dismissed from our conversation, we retired to the dinning room where Wendy had set a semi-formal dinner. Like most of the meals she prepared, it was excellent.



Later that night, after we had finished cleaning up the dinner dishes, we made love. I will have to admit, that we both enjoyed ourselves, and each other, like we hadn't in a long time.



Until she had wished it on to my own body, I hadn't realized how sensitive Wendy's skin actually was. Her soft touch on my bare skin was incredibly sensuous, even when it wasn't directly on an erogenous zone. She was right about one thing though, it was better not having a bunch of whiskers rubbing between us.







She'd been right about not wanting my beard back too. Slightly over a month had gone by since she'd changed my body hair and skin texture to match hers. As she had predicted I had grown accustomed to, and liked not having to waste time shaving in the morning. Surprisingly, although Wendy had to touch up her legs and underarms about once a week, mine remained completely hairless. My neatly trimmed pubic hair began to grow out, however.



When I complained to Wendy, she smiled and handed me her razor. I took the razor and stared at it for a minute, it had been nearly five weeks since I'd even touched one. What the Hell, I thought, it did itch and if it don't show...







Several months passed and my nearly hairless body and beardless face felt as familiar to me as if I'd always been that way. Everything seemed to be going along great until one morning in early May.



"Well, do you feel any different?" Wendy asked when we awoke.



I ran my finger tips over my smooth cheeks. I was still beardless. "No. Should I?" I asked cautiously.



"Stand up," Wendy said, "and take your shorts and T-shirt off. I want to see."



Suddenly fearful, I grabbed my crotch bringing a giggle from Wendy. Everything was where it should have been. Sighing mentally in relief, I stood and removed my T-shirt. My undershorts almost literally slid down by themselves, giving me the first clue of what had happened, which I subconsciously ignored.



Looking down at my body, I couldn't see any difference. It looked the way it had for the last three months, hairless except for my blonde, heart shaped pubic hair.



"What am I supposed to see?" I asked Wendy bewildered.



She motioned me to turn around. When I had complied, she just grinned at me. "No more 'love handles' or that awful 'beer belly'. I gave you my waistline and tummy."



I quickly felt my waist and stomach. She was right, the "love handles" and "beer belly" I had slowly developed since we had married were gone. In their place was a slender waist and a flat, well toned abdomen. Unlike the loss of my beard and body hair, this change was initially welcomed.



"Uh, thanks," was all I could say as I ran my hands over my slender waist.



Wendy looked smug. "Don't mention it."



On the surface, the loss of the roll of fat around my middle seemed to be a nice change. When I took my shower, however, I began to notice some changes that had naturally accompanied them.



The oval shape of my belly button was no longer horizontal but was now vertical, identical to Wendy's. Just below my new navel was a slight budge, that little extra layer of fat women have to protect their internal reproductive organs, exactly the same as Wendy's. If it wasn't for my male genitals and narrower hips, my lower torso would have looked exactly like hers.



"Wendy..." I began to complain when she came into the bathroom. "Look at this!"



She studied me from the side for a moment. "Humm," she smiled, "looks like I'll have to loan you one of my panty griddles to flatten out that girlish little tummy of yours when you wear those tight skirts."



"Wendy, this isn't funny. I really look like a girl down there."



Wendy looked again. "No, you don't. Wrong equipment between your legs for one thing, hips are too narrow for another. Relax honey, with your clothes on and you standing up straight instead of all scrunched over like that, that little tummy won't show. At least, not as much as you think it will. Unless you draw attention to it, no one will notice. Trust me, it won't show."



I looked down at my lower abdomen again. Maybe she was right. When I straightened up, I ran my hand over the slight bulge. It did seem to be less noticeable. I grew hopeful that it just might not show at that. I would have to wait until I dressed before either of us would know for sure. Besides, it was a small price to pay for the loss of my "gut" and "love handles". I could hardly wait, I thought sarcastically.



Wendy had been right, with my clothes on, my feminine appearing waist and lower abdomen looked almost normal. The only real difference that I could see, or rather feel, was that my pants were a little snug just below the far looser waist band. When I tucked my shirt in to my slacks, I presented a slim trim figure that I hadn't seen in years. I loved it!



Within a few hours I'd almost forgotten all about my new, "improved", waistline, except that I realized that I would have to buy some new pants. The ones I was wearing, while comfortable in all other respects, kept wanting to slide down my waist.



It wasn't until after I had returned home later that night from work, that I realized the full significance of Wendy's "gift". In removing my "love handles" and "beer gut" she had made my waist the same size as hers, a whole 28 inches! I'd lost nearly six inches around my middle. It was no wonder I hadn't had enough holes in my belt to pull it tight enough! I hadn't been this slim since I'd been a freshman in high school.



"I hadn't thought about that," Wendy said thoughtfully when I told her of the problem I'd keeping my pants up.



"It's a good thing tomorrow's Saturday. Looks like I have some shopping to do," I replied ruefully. "I think I'll change into something more comfortable, or at least something that might fit better."



"Good idea," Wendy replied. "What would you say to eating out tonight?"



"Didn't fix dinner, huh?" I grinned. "Sounds fine to me."



Wendy gave me a kiss of thanks. "Let's go find you something to wear," she said grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the bedroom.







"No, I'm not going to wear a pair of your jeans," I said with as much finality that I could muster.



Wendy looked at the pile of trousers and jeans laying on our bed. I had spent the last hour trying on every of pants I owned and not one had come even close to fitting correctly.



"Nicky, please. You've got to wear something and we know a pair of my jeans will fit you in the waist. We're the same size there remember?"



"And the legs will hit me two inches above my ankles as well. No thanks, I'd just as soon wear a pair of sweat pants." I replied firmly.



"I think I have a pair of jeans that's longer in the legs in the back of the closet somewhere. If I can find them, will you at least try them on? If they're not long enough, you won't have to wear them, I promise."



I looked at the pile of my pants and jeans again. It was hopeless, until Wendy gave me back my "gut" and "love handles", I 'd never be able to wear them again. "Okay, find those jeans, I'll try them on."



"Uh, Nicky?"



"Yes?"



"While I'm looking, would you mind getting us something cold to drink? All this work has made me thirsty."



"I suppose I could use a drink right about now myself," I said heading toward the kitchen. I found a couple of sodas in the back of the refrigerator, poured Wendy's into a glass with some ice and returned to the bedroom. A smiling Wendy was sitting on the bed, holding a pair of new looking dark blue denim jeans.



"Here, try these on," she said as she handed me the jeans.



I exchanged her glass of soda for the jeans and set my own on the dresser. I pulled her jeans up around my hairless legs, fastened the button in the waist and zipped them up. It didn't surprise me much to realize they fit around my waist perfectly, although it felt as though the waistband was two inches higher than normal. I was surprised to see that they were exactly the right length.



"Thanks, honey, they're long enough and feel okay through the waist. But I can't wear them," I said as I unfastened the button at the waist.



"Why not?" Wendy asked in surprise. "They look like they fit in the waist and length to me."



In answer I grabbed a hand full of fabric next to my hip. "They're made for someone with a shape like yours. Too baggy through the hips and rear."



Wendy looked thoughtful for a minute. "You know, I wore those jeans only once, and didn't wash them when I took them off. Why don't I throw them in the washer, wash them in hot water, then dry them on the high heat cycle. They should shrink up some. Most jeans do, you know."



I glanced down at the jeans. "And shrink up in the legs too. Then I'd be in the same fix as if I tried to wear your other jeans."



"Well," she smiled, "we won't know until we try, will we? I'll throw them in the washer right after we get something to eat."



"I can't go out like this," I responded.



"Sure you can, we'll go through a drive in. You won't even have to get out of the car. I'll even drive, if you want."



Having no other choice of suitable pants, and being famished myself, I sighed and agreed. Wendy's offer to drive was an insistence, and I sat where she normally did, enjoying the ride.



When we returned a couple of hours later, I pulled off the jeans and handed them to Wendy. She left the bedroom and a few minutes later I heard the washing machine filling up. Thirty minutes later Wendy returned, announcing that she had put the jeans in the dryer. They would be dry the following morning and I could wear them until I bought some new pants.



Having nothing else better to do, we got into bed, turned off the lights, then messed around for a few hours.







"Here, try them on," Wendy said. I pried open one eye and looked at my wife.



"Wendy, it's not even daylight yet and you want me to try on a pair of jeans even before I've had my shower?"



"Yes. Don't bother with undershorts, just try them on."



She handed me the jeans wordlessly then sat at the edge of the bed waiting for me to get up. Knowing that she wouldn't leave me alone until I tried them on, I got out of bed.



I pulled the jeans up, checked the length of the legs and fastened the waistband button. The waist fit perfectly. The legs brushed the top of my feet, exactly where they had been the first time I had tried them on. So much for shrinkage, I thought. I pulled the zipper up and felt across my rear expecting to feel a hand full of excess fabric. I was surprised to find that they were snug through the hips and rear, but not overly so.



"Much better," Wendy said looking at the fit of the jeans.



"Okay, now that I've tried them on, can I please go to the bathroom take a shower?" Without waiting for an answer, I undid the jeans and pulled them off. A second later my T-shirt joined the jeans on the bed and I was in the bathroom emptying my bladder as my shower water warmed up.



Wendy joined me in the shower barely seconds after I got in. Seeing she was in a playful mood, I allowed her to wash me, then I did the same to her. She got out of the shower before I did and was getting dressed when I returned to the bedroom.



Laying on the bed were the jeans she had loaned me. Laying next to them were a pair of black cotton French cut panties. Wendy had obviously forgotten to put them away with the rest of the clothing she'd washed with the jeans. Ignoring the panties, I removed a pair my undershorts from our dresser and began to pull them on. Wendy saw what I was doing and stopped me.



"Nicky, honey, wait a minute. Why don't you wear those?" she said.



"What?" I asked looking around in confusion. She picked up the cotton panties and handed them to me. "I can't wear a pair of your panties!"



"Why not, you'll be wearing a pair of my jeans. So why not a pair of panties as well?"



"Well, no offense dear, but we might be the same size in the waist, but our hips aren't. Your panties won't fit, remember?" I was referring to an incident two years earlier when our washer was broken and Wendy loaned me a pair of her panties.



"Oh, I think they might fit you better now," she said with a smile.



"You think..." A sudden, horrible thought crossed my mind. "You didn't!" Wendy's smile grew a little wider.



I looked down at my body only to see what I had feared. With the exception of my penis and testicles, from the waist down I was virtually identical to Wendy! She had given me her wide hips and delightfully rounded and very feminine shaped rear.



What else had she done to make me fit into her jeans...? I looked at Wendy, noticing for the first time that we were almost the same height.



The mystery of how a pair of her jeans fit in the inseam the night before had been solved. She'd changed the length of my legs to the same as hers. I'd lost three inches in height in the process and hadn't even noticed it until now.



But that isn't all that had changed. It suddenly dawned on me why the jeans had fit so loosely through the hips and rear, even though before yesterday, I couldn't have even hoped to pull them up to my waist. The size of my hips had obviously shrunk in proportion to a 28 inch male waist.



When it was obvious my new hip measurements hadn't filled out the jeans the way they should have been, Wendy simply "shared" the dimensions of her body below the waist with me. Now, not only did I have a slender waist, I also had Wendy's long slender legs, curvaceous hips and shapely rear!



"Wendy, this is too much! Change me back the way I was. Please!"



"Nicky, you know this is the only way those jeans will fit properly. Put the panties and jeans on. You can wear one of your shirts and leave the shirt tail out if it will make you feel better. Your shoulders are still your own and wider than mine. Wearing a shirt with the tail out will disguise the shape and width of your hips. No one will be able to tell the difference from most other men's tushs. Trust me, it won't show."



Having heard that last line before, I knew that I was stuck like this until she wanted to change me back. It would be soon I hoped. I looked at the panties and women's jeans again. It wasn't as if I had any choice. Right now, they were the only garments that would fit my greatly altered body.







"See, I told you it wouldn't show once you got a shirt on," Wendy said ten minutes later.



I had put on one of my denim work shirts as Wendy had suggested. She'd been right, the shirt tail was long enough that it extended down to about the bottom of my expanded rear. Unless I pulled the shirt tail above my slender waist, I looked almost like a normal man with a slight "executive chair spread".



Wendy had forgotten one thing about changing me to fit her jeans, however. Her jeans were cut for a woman's flat groin. As a result, my penis and testicles were tightly compressed by the front of the jeans. It was somewhat uncomfortable and in spite of the compression, made my groin look conspicuously male. Not that I minded, you understand. I just didn't want to bring this little fact to her attention in fear that further even, more drastic changes would be made to my body. After all, while I may have the shape of a girl from the waist down, I did have some male pride left after all and I wanted to keep it!.



"Those jeans really look good on you and your rear doesn't look all that bad either. Kinda sexy, in fact," Wendy said happily. She was pleased with her efforts to make her jeans fit me better and obviously liked the way her rear looked on me.



I merely grunted. I wasn't at all happy about what she had done to me, although at the moment there wasn't much I could do about it. I sat on the edge of the bed to put my socks and shoes on. I had just begun to slip my foot in a sock as Wendy watched.



"Oops," she exclaimed.



I looked up at Wendy, my sock still only half on. "Oops? Just what does that mean?" I asked, resigning myself to yet another change previously unnoticed by myself. Unlike the other times she had changed me before, she had an embarrassed look on her face. "Now what?" I sighed.



"Uh, we'll have to get you some new shoes today too. I must have accidentally changed the size of your feet when I changed the configuration of your legs and hips."



"Isn't that just great!" I said in disgust as I looked down at my small, narrow foot. "Now what am I going to do, wear a pair of your high heels?"



Wendy giggled. "Well, you could now, you know."



I just glared at her, too angry to say anything.



Seeing my expression Wendy relented a little. "Well, maybe not. How about a nice pair of flats instead? I've got a darling navy blue pair that will match that outfit you're wearing perfectly," she giggled again. She obviously thought my predicament funny.



"Wendy, PLEASE change me back!" I cried. "I don't think I can take much more of this!"



"Oh, come on honey, I think you look cute. Very sexy looking, in fact."



"Wendy! God Damn it! Quit screwing around!" I snapped.



"Oh, get over it!" Wendy snapped back. "I happen to like the way you look and I'm not going to undo my hard work to change you back. At least, not just yet."



Instead of changing her mind, my angry outburst had only succeeded in getting Wendy angry in return. Her remark sunk in. I stood suddenly, causing Wendy to take a step backward.



"You like me like this? You think I'm sexy looking? Wendy, look at me! I'm only two boobs and a pussy away from having a body, a female body, exactly like yours! Is all this to satisfy some weird narcissistic streak I should know about? Or is it just some sort of latent Lesbian love of your own female body?"



"Lesbian?" Wendy's nostrils flared in anger. "You think I'm a Lesbian!"



I suddenly realized that I the line had been crossed and crossed with a low blow. I tried to defuse the situation. "No, darling, I don't. It's just that..." I stopped, seeing the dangerous look in her eyes. She wasn't listening to a thing I was trying to say.



"Think I'm a Lesbian, do you?" Wendy repeated tightly. She was obviously gone beyond being merely angry, she was furious. She grabbed the book of magic from her nightstand and flipped through the pages rapidly. "Well, I'll show you how I feel about that!"



Horrified that she would complete the job of cloning my body into hers, I backed away from her, holding my hands up as if to ward off a blow. "No, Wendy, don't! I didn't mean it. Wendy, please... no!"



Wendy's grin twisted into something I'd never seen on her before as she glanced at the page she had selected and mumbled a few word under her breath. When she finished, she dropped the book on the bed, crossed her arms and smiled smugly at me.



Feeling more fearful than I ever have in my life, I grabbed my groin and sighed in relief. I still had my penis and testicles. My next stop was my chest. It too felt normal in all respects. In spite of the spell she had attempted to cast, nothing had changed.



Faint with relief, I barely notice as an obviously disappointed Wendy began throwing some clothing in a bag. It finally dawned on me that since her attempt to cast a spell to change me into a girl hadn't worked, she was packing to leave.



"What are you doing?" I asked still shaken by the argument we had just had.



Wendy barely glanced at me as she continued to pack. "I'm leaving. I'm going home to mother's."



"For how long?" I asked logically.



This time Wendy looked up from her bag. "That's entirely up to you, Nicky."







I had watched helplessly as Wendy stormed out of our bedroom and our house. It was if I was being held down by some invisible force that released me only when I heard Wendy's car drove off. I couldn't believe that she had walked out leaving me in the condition I was in. I was so shattered that I almost broke down and cried.



Not knowing what else to do, I wandered to the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast. Normally, I can devour a horse in the morning. Now, I pushed my plate away only half finished. I couldn't decide if my loss of appetite was because Wendy had left me or because of my smaller, Wendy sized stomach.



Wendy! In her playful mood she had sure screwed up my life. Damn her anyway! I couldn't even wear my own undershorts, pants or even my shoes!



I washed up my dirty dishes and wandered barefoot back to the bedroom. Not particularly wanting to walk around barefoot all day, I dug through the closet until I found the pair of flats Wendy had offered and slipped them on, finding them surprisingly comfortable, if a little odd feeling.



For the rest of the day, I just lounged around the house, not wanting to do much of anything else.



That afternoon, I took a nap. When I awoke, my bladder was full. It was the third time that I'd had to go since Wendy had walked out the door. Obviously, my bladder had been reduced in size along with the rest of my lower body.



I pulled my jeans down over my wide hips to allow me to pull my panties down in front. As I stood peeing into the toilet bowel, I began to wonder what my changed body looked like. I really hadn't had the chance to inspect it very carefully before Wendy had blown up and stormed out of the house. Not bothering to pull my jeans or panties all the way back up, I waked to the bedroom and stripped naked.



Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and stepped in front of Wendy's full length mirror. I opened my eyes and stood silently studying the strange body Wendy had wished on me.



I really didn't look that bad, I decided. A little odd, to be sure, Wendy's broad hips, full rounded rear and long slender legs below the slender waist, (which was higher than mine), and my normal body above. If you discounted my obviously female shaped pelvis and narrow waist, I looked like a man with heavily muscled shoulders. The only thing that was common to both halves of my body was soft skin and no body hair.



In spite of my revulsion at the prospect earlier this morning, I began to wonder what I'd look and feel like if Wendy had changed me completely into a girl. Just like her, I thought. Still, it might be interesting to see first hand what men have wondered about since there were two sexes. Thinking about how I would look as a woman, I got an idea that seemed brilliant at the time.



I began searching for the book on magic Wendy had read the spells from.



I was almost beginning to think that she'd taken it with her when I finally discovered its hiding place. When Wendy had dropped it on the bed, it had bounced off, and fallen to the floor. She must have accidentally kicked with her foot, because it was under the bed, almost in the center. It was the first place I should have looked. Still naked, I laid down on the bed and began to thumb through the book.



Before long, I found the section I was looking for. The spell seemed simple enough, although it was two pages long.



I began reading out loud. As I progressed through the spell, I could feel my body growing warmer. I paused for a second to look down at my body. It's working, I thought, as I continued onto the next page. A few minutes later, I had completed the spell.



Smiling to myself, I stood and walked over to Wendy's mirror to inspect my body. Although I had watched most of the changes as they occurred, I wanted to see the full effect standing up.



Perfect, I thought as I twisted my body around to inspect my rear. Body hair, skin texture, height, "love handles" and "beer belly", even my beard had been restored! I studied my body critically. I had never realized how bad a shape I had allowed myself to get into. And with all that hair, I looked like an ape, something I had never truly appreciated before Wendy had changed me! I could have rationalized that it was all Wendy's fault in the first place, after it had been her delicious and calorie laden meals that had given me my "love handles" and protruding gut. But I knew that I was as much at fault as she. It had been me that had eaten all of those meals and had asked for more.



I took a shower, shaved my face for the first time in months and got dressed, this time in a pair of my own jeans. I almost laughed out loud as I slipped my feet into a pair of my tennis shoes. I wouldn't need to wear Wendy's high heels, not with feet this size. As I walked by Wendy's full length mirror, my refection caught my eye. For the second time within an hour, I found myself staring at my body and feeling very uncomfortable.



Even fully clothed, I presented a pretty poor picture. I shook my head, the alternative, the odd mixture of Wendy's and my own body she had wished upon me, had looked slimmer and trim. And I had to admit, the lack of body hair hadn't been all that bad, and not having to shave had been a real time saver at that. I hated what she had done to me, yet I now disliked the way my real body looked. Once again the question crossed my mind of how I would look as Wendy's duplicate. I love my wife, but I just couldn't see myself as her clone. Besides, two Wendys would be hard to explain.



There must be some way to come to a happy compromise, one that would help me regain a slim youthful build and would satisfy Wendy's obvious desire to "improve" my body.



When I'm engaged in some serious thinking, I have a tendency to pace the floor without realizing it. I found myself staring out the bedroom window, when I realized that had been the case again. I was about to turn away, when a movement a few doors down the street caught my eye.



Tommy Wilson, our neighbor's 14 year old, was washing his parent's car with the help of his current girl friend. Both appeared to be in a playful mood, and had almost as much water on themselves as on the car. Both had obviously dressed for the occasion, the girl was wearing a relatively conservative two piece bathing suit and an unbuttoned boy's shirts.



Tommy was wearing a pair of cut off jeans and tennis shoes without socks. Although still in his adolescence, he had lost all of his "baby fat" and was showing promise of ending up like his older brother, tall, trim and a fine athlete.



Now there was a body I could live with I thought as I watched Tommy being sprayed by the girl with the hose. Slim and well built, even at that young age. It was too bad...



Wait a second, I thought, why couldn't I?



Thirty seconds later I was laying on the bed the book of magic in my hands again. I took my time, changing each part of my body individually, rather than all at once as I had before. I wanted to make sure that everything was just right before I changed something else.







The mirror reflected back my new body. I came to the conclusion that my "design", a mixture of Tommy's trim youthful body with my own facial features was perfect.



The only disconcerting feature about my new "Tommy" body was that because the "model" was still in an adolescent growing stage it was considerably shorter than my old body had been. I was now about two inches shorter than Wendy, but if I developed as I suspected Tommy would, I would gain my lost inches back, plus a few more in a year or two.



What I had temporarily lost in height, I had more than made up in the other areas. I admired my compact new body for a few minutes. Slim trim, masculine waist, (that was coincidentally the same size as Wendy's 28 inches), well muscled, but not overly developed, upper torso, arms and legs, and a small, masculine tush. I knew that I would have to buy an entire new wardrobe again in another year or so, but what the hell, it was a price I was more than willing to pay. I grinned at my reflection and winked broadly.



I had been a little disappointed with Tommy's body hair. Being still an adolescent, his body hair was still light on his legs, the bare beginnings of pubic hair and didn't have any at all under his arms. Like my own hair, his was brown and matched my own almost perfectly. I knew of course, that I could change the body hair quantify to something more familiar, if I choose to do so. I thought about it for a moment and decided that I would leave it as it was. It seemed like a shame to give this wonderfully fit body my original ape like pelt of hair. I did keep my beard however, not wanting to surrender the few remaining vestiges of my real self.



I decided that I needed a few minor details more and I would be literally a new person, One that I knew Wendy would like better than the old one. I returned to the book.



While I was touching up a few minor details in my body, I discovered that the book contained spells that worked on inanimate objects. Oddly, they were only temporary spells, and would end in about a week. My last act before putting the book back in its hiding place was to change part of my wardrobe to fit my youthful slim "Tommy" body. While I was looking forward to buying a new wardrobe, I was well aware that I couldn't do it naked. I studied my wardrobe and changed only the bare necessities. No sense in going overboard on this magic stuff, I had decided.







Half an hour later, I sat down on the bed and picking up the phone, dialed Wendy's mother's number from memory. Wendy must have been sitting right next to the telephone for she answered it on the first ring.



"Hello?" Wendy's voice came through the ear piece.



"Wendy? I really sorry I said those terrible things. Will you give me another chance?" I asked, trying to muster all the sincerity I could in my voice.



"Why should I?" she responded, sounding only half interested.



We talked for about half an hour before she finally agreed to return home. I waited in anticipation, knowing that mere words over a telephone would not be enough. I would need to treat her tenderly for a while, not that it would be that hard. I truly do love my wife.



When Wendy arrived a couple of hours later, we sat down at the kitchen table and talked out all that had happened since she'd found that damned book on magic. I told her about using her book to change my body, although it was pretty obvious I had. As I had hoped, she liked the slim, fit and youthful body that Tommy Wilson and I now shared. I asked her never to change my body without my permission again. I like having a beard, (which was coarse and bristly again), and all the rest, I told her.



She was disappointed and a little reluctant to make the promise. She had truly liked the changes she had made in my old body. But it was obvious that she liked the new me almost as well.



My comment about being a latent Lesbian had been closer to the truth than I'd realized. She tearfully confessed that my remark about being a Lesbian hadn't been true, not quite at least. It turned out that she swung both ways and while in college, had enjoyed sex with female partners as much as she had with me. I was relieved to learn that since we had been married I had been her only lover.



While she had been at her mother's Wendy had realized that it had been her subconscious memories of those times that had been guiding the direction of her changes in my body. She tearfully apologized and I accepted.



Seeing that we were approaching a very sensitive area, I suggested that I might consider some kind of compromise but nothing as radical or drastic as becoming her virtual clone.



After some discussion, we agreed on a mutually acceptable compromise. My beard would go but nothing else. I was kind of relieved, I really had liked not having to shave my face anymore but hadn't been willing to admit it even to myself... until I had grown it back.



We decided to go out for dinner and see a show to celebrate our making up. Wendy suggest that while she unpacked her bag, I might want to take a shower and put on a pair of slacks and dress shirt for dinner.



"You'll have to shave again, darling. Just for me. I want my man to look as handsome as he is understanding and loving," she said as we walked hand in hand to the bedroom. We both understood that it would be the last time I would every have to shave my face again.



I slipped out of my jeans and casual polo shirt as I watched Wendy unpack. She glanced up at me and smiled. I returned her smile and pulled my shorts off, just as she finished unpacking.



Wendy's eyes widened in surprise when she saw the shape of my belly button and the little heart shaped patch of blonde pubic hair below it. Of all the changes Wendy had made, they were only two I'd kept when I'd made my own changes. Clearly flustered by what I had done, she had to force herself to look up to my face. A unspoken question passed between us.



"I kind of like the contrast," I replied sheepishly. Wendy looked down again at the little patch of fuzz.



"It is that, a contrast, I mean. Quite a contrast," she repeated in wonder. She appeared to be about to say something else, then shook her head, changing her mind. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "Uh, we'd better get going if we want to get something to eat. It's getting late."



We still had plenty of time to eat and make the second showing of the movie, but only if I hurried my shower. The rest of this conversation would have to wait until later. I grinned, winked broadly and headed to the shower.







Greatly refreshed by my quick shower and shave, I pull on my slacks and zipped them up. A minute later I had put my shirt on, tied my tie, grabbed a sports coat would have been about four sizes too small for my old body, and was ready to go.



"Ready?" I asked needlessly, seeing that she was. She had changed out of the shorts she had been wearing and had slipped in to an "A" line skirt and sleeveless blouse while I'd been in the shower.



"Just about," Wendy replied. "I need to get a some tampons. My period is almost here and I don't want to be unprepared in case it's a little early."



Her comment made me realize that my poorly thought out remark about her being a Lesbian hadn't been the only trigger to set off her anger. I made a mental note to be more alert to when she had her periods.







By the time we arrived at the restaurant, Wendy had forgiven me totally and we were both in a playful mood. Eating our dinner took twice as long as it should have, not because of poor service but because we were more interested in each other than eating. We must have embarrassed half the people in the restaurant, but we didn't care, we were a young couple deeply in love.



By the time our dessert had been served, we had decided to skip the movie and go home. We had been gotten ourselves so hot, it was all we could do to keep from ripping each other's clothes off. From the looks we received as we left the restaurant, I knew that it would be a long time before we could eat there again.







In spite of our burning passions, our love making that night was slow and tender, exactly as Wendy liked and I had rarely taken the time for before. I was beginning to appreciate the value of having a "slow hand" while making love. I had never seen Wendy so hot and I wasn't doing so badly myself!



When we finally wore ourselves out after several earth shattering orgasms apiece, we laid in each other's arms, just cuddling and enjoying the warmth of each other's naked body. Wendy was laying half on top of me, playing with my oddly erect and very sensitive nipples on my flat, hairless chest with her hand. I glanced at her expression. The only way I could have described her at the moment was that she looked as contented as I felt.



I figured now was as good a time as any to bring up the subject of the book again.



"Wendy?" I whispered softly into her ear. She jerked her head away and giggled.



"Stop that, it tickles," she giggled again. She rubbed her cheek with her fingers. "And your whiskers are beginning to scratching me again."



"Sorry," I replied and turned my face away from hers slightly. "Wendy, I've been thinking about that book on magic."



"Oh? What about it?"



"After we eliminate my beard, why don't we burn it?"



Surprised by my question, Wendy sat up abruptly and stared down at me. "Your beard or the book?"



"The book," I responded softly.



"You really want to do that?" she asked slowly.



I shrugged my shoulders. "Sure, why not?"



"But what if you...?" her question trailed off into silence.



"What if I what?"



"You know. You might change your mind some day and want to..." she began, looking at me doubtfully.



"Wendy, beloved," I interrupted, "once we've removed all traces of my beard as we agreed, I'll be delighted. In fact, as long as I'm with you, I'll be the happiest man on earth."



"The happiest man on earth, huh?" Wendy laughed lightly as she ran her hand over my chest down to my groin and its carefully trimmed patch of silky blonde hair. She played with me for a moment, causing me to arch my back and squirm involuntarily. She watched me intently until the now familiar warmth of desire began to spread through my body, then she leaned over and kissed me long and deeply.



"Well, maybe you would be at that," she admitted to herself as she broke our kiss. She withdrew her hand from my groin, much to my disappointment, and traced meaningless little patterns around my belly button with her finger tips. Her touch sent shivers up and down my spine. "I'll be more than happy to make sure you remain that way."



"I'd like that," I said softly. "It's settled then, we'll do the whiskers, then burn the book?" I wanted desperately to grab her hand and guide it back to where it had been. I refrained myself, not wanting to distract Wendy from her thoughts.



Wendy nodded, a loving smile on her face. "Yes, dear, we'll burn the book, if that's what you really want to."



"I do, darling, I most assuredly do. Uh, when?" I asked, anxious to get the damned thing our of our lives.



Wendy sighed, "Well, I guess there's no time like the present, is there? And then, afterwards..."



"Afterwards?" I repeated eagerly.



"Afterwards," Wendy continued as she slipped her fingers back into my tight sopping wet pussy again. Finally! I clamped down, trying to lock her fingers inside of me. "I'll show you how to use a tampon. We'll be starting our periods soon, and you'll need to know how. That is, we will be if this is an exact copy of my pussy I'm playing with?"



I smiled my confirmation. "I never knew you got so wet down there when you're aroused. I was afraid that it would soak through my undershorts as well as the crotch of my slacks when we were at the restaurant. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, it was worth it."



"Speaking of soaking, remind me to buy you some sexy panties when we go shopping tomorrow. I don't think your old undershorts will fit you and you really should have a double fabric crotch. It will help contain any, uh, leakage that you'll have down there and help prevent infections."



"New panties and my first ever period, all in one day, wow!" I said with mock enthusiasm.



Wendy smiled tenderly, obviously as deeply in love with me as I was with her. "But not the last if you have your way, right?"



"Right!" I moaned passionately as I tried to "milk" her fingers with the internal muscles of my pussy. I hadn't quite gotten the knack of how to do that little trick that Wendy could do so easily and I wanted to practice trying whenever I had the chance.



"Nicky, I know you've said you won't want to change back, but won't you miss having a penis? After all, you've had one all your life and I imagine it's quite convenient and fun at times. Not that I'd want one myself, you understand?" she added hastily. "Are you really sure you want to give all that up? I mean it's all right for me to have a pussy, I was born with one so I naturally know what its all about. Are you really, really sure you want to sit to pee and all the rest for the rest of your life?" Wendy asked doubtfully.



"Wendy, there is nothing you can say that will talk me out of this," I began seriously, although I was more than slightly amused by her questions. "My mind is made up. Besides, I'm not sure if you've ever noticed, but there are times when it's a little embarrassing having all that extra stuff down there."



"Oh?"



"Sure, like the times when I've had an erection at the wrong time or place, or worse still, when it wouldn't function at all. Or the times I've gotten it caught in my zipper or pinched my testicles when I sat down wrong. With a just pussy, you've never had any of those problems, so it's hard to explain. At the very worse, all you have to contend with is a wet crotch in your panties."



"With just a pussy?" Wendy raised an eyebrow and laughed softly, "I'm afraid there's a little more to it than having 'just a pussy'."



"Well, you know what I mean," I said, trying to correct what could be construed as an insult.



A thoughtful look crossed her face as she turned over on her side. I wished she wouldn't do that, I thought, as she slipped her fingers out me.



"I think its pretty obvious that I love what you've done to yourself. And I will even concede that there may be some advantages to not having a penis and testicles that a girl takes for granted, but I really think that the reverse is true as well." Propping herself up with her forearm, Wendy studied me for a moment. "But, I can't help wondering, why?"



"After you stormed out of the house, I thought about what had been said. At first, I was devastated, then after thinking about it for a while, I decided that even if you were a Lesbian, I couldn't just stop being in love with you. My decision to copy your vagina, uterus and ovaries was purely selfishness on my part. When you confessed that you were bi-sexual, before you knew about my little last improvement, I knew that I'd made the right decision."



"How could you say you're being selfish?" Wendy asked, astonished. "I already knew you loved me. You didn't have to do it for me, not really. I could have been perfectly content with you with a penis."



"Because I am being selfish! I didn't want you to leave me for someone else and it was the only way I could think of to prove that I loved you as much as I do," I explained. "It was my gift to you, made with unquestioning love."



Wendy looked quizzically at me for a second.



"Sort of like in the O. Henry story 'The Gift of the Magi' ? The one about the girl who sold her long hair so she could give her husband a watch fob, only he's pawned the watch to buy her a hair comb?" Wendy said, slowly comprehending the "why" of what I'd done.



"Something like that," I agreed. "Except you don't have to pawn your watch or grow a penis yourself. Don't you see, now you can have the best of both, a handsome husband with a slim, muscular build, who also just happens to have a tight little pussy to make love to, anytime you want. It was a small enough sacrifice if it means that you and I will grow old together."



Wendy giggled at my unintentional pun, although I hadn't been that small, then grew serious. "And we will, darling, we will! But what about the times when we're not making love? If we burn the book, there'll be no going back to an all male body, ever. What will people think if they notice that there isn't a bulge where one should be?"



The question had never bother me. If anyone ever did ask, I could always say that I was injured in an accident or something. But I really wasn't worried about it. I'd already proved that with my clothes on, I looked as much of a man as any other guy on the street. There wasn't a thing they could do that I couldn't either. I was even able to have children, only in a way that they could never experience nor truly appreciate. As that thought crossed my mind, I suddenly realized that I had effectively doubled our chances of having the family we both wanted. Wendy and I would have to have a serious talk about that one day.



I will admit though, the idea of having to sit to pee and wearing panties for the rest of my life will take a little getting used to. And, to be frank, I am a little apprehensive about experiencing my first ever period.



I just smiled as I finally answered her question. "Let them wonder. Besides, I don't think that will be much of a problem. After all, as you said not too long ago, 'With your clothes on, it doesn't show...'!"



"I see," Wendy said. "Sounds like you've thought it all out. Okay, let's get rid of that beard and then we'll go out to the patio burn the book in the bar-b-que!"



Although at the moment, I would have much rather continued what we were doing, I climbed out of bed. I pulled on my jeans, not even bothering with undershorts, while Wendy slipped into her robe. Hand in hand we went out the back to the patio with the book. I poured a whole can of charcoal lighter fluid over the book and stood back as Wendy struck a match. She paused, holding the match away from the fumes that were almost overpowering.



"Are you really sure you want to do this, honey?" Wendy asked, a concerned look on her face. She was obviously giving me one last chance to back out.



"Never more sure in my life," I replied firmly. "If this is what it takes to keep your love, then do it! Toss the match!"



With a faint smile on her lips, she tossed the match onto the center of the open book.



We stepped back quickly at the sudden "whoosh" of the flames. We stood hand in hand watching as the book burn down to ashes.



"Happy?"



"More than any other time in my life, except of course, the day I met you," I said as I kissed Wendy.



"What about when you start developing? Think you'll still be happy then?"



Her question threw me for a second. "Developing? What do you mean?"



"Tommy just turned fourteen a couple of weeks ago, right?" I nodded. "So, he has a ways to go before he finishes maturing then, has he?"



"I've taken that into consideration," I said slowly, thinking of Tommy's brother Steve. Steve, a few years older, was about four inches taller and heavily than his younger bother. When Tommy's, and my, body matured, we both should be taller as well. "That's okay, though. I wouldn't mind growing a few another 3 or 4 inches in height."



Wendy smiled, "Oh, I'm sure you'll be taller, but probably not much as you might think."



"Oh? Why not? I carefully worded my spell to include his genes, so I should be as tall or taller than his brother."



Wendy smiled again. "Perhaps. Uh, Tommy's mother, Janet, has a great figure doesn't she?"



I thought about Tommy's attractive mother. She was about an inch taller than Wendy, but had an admittedly much better figure. "Yeah, she's got a great figure, what about it?"



"Honey, in case you've forgotten, you're not producing very much testosterone any more. The estrogen that's flowing through your veins is going to cause that slim body of yours to gain weight very easily if you're not careful. And even if you are very careful about your diet, other changes will happen regardless of what you eat. Quite unavoidable changes, I'm afraid."



"Gain weight? Unavoidable changes? Wendy, what are you talking about? We just burned the book so that there wouldn't be any more changes!"



"Honey, "Wendy began softly, "your body is nearly an exact duplicate of Tommy Wilson's and right now is 90% adolescent male. The ten percent of your body that isn't Tommy's, is a duplicate of a part of me that is 100% mature female. Following me so far?"



"Yes," I replied.



"Do you know what happens when a man's body is subjected to a constant supply of estrogen without a larger dose of testosterone to counter balance it? His body starts thinking it a female's. His skin will become softer and a extra layer of fat will develop under it. He loses muscle tone in his arms and upper body and most of his body fat shifts to his hips, thighs and rear. Depending on his age, there is little or no changes in his bone structure. But the change that's most noticeable of them all is that he develops breasts, real breasts."



"Breasts?" I asked horrified.



"Breasts," Wendy confirmed. "How large depends upon heredity and the age of the body when the estrogen starts. The closer to puberty, the more profound the changes are. Tommy just had his fourteenth birthday, so his body has a lot more growing to do before he's an adult. Just as yours does, although it won't be growing quite in the same way. In short Dear, within a year or two, the estrogen your ovaries are producing will give you a female's wider pelvis, a nice, if slightly large, pair of breasts, and a nice sexy, feminine butt very similar to the one I gave you."



"But, that's impossible!" I stammered, wanting to deny what I knew was the truth.



She looked thoughtfully at the heart shaped patch on my groin.



"No, dear, it isn't impossible. But it is inevitable, you will, for all practical purposes, become a woman both in body and, perhaps, in your mind! And you want to know what's so hilariously funny about all of this?"



"What's so damned funny about me turning into a woman?"



"Remember the spell that I tried to use on you just before I went home to mother's? About wanting you to understand how I felt about loving and being loved by another woman? It worked! But not the way I expected. Instead changing your attitude toward my sexuality, it made you want to change your body so you could understand my desires first hand. You're a lesbian now, darling. And you did it all by yourself!"



I turned to look in horror at the remains of the book. As if by magic, a final little puff of smoke rose from the ashes and disappeared into the night air. With it went all chances of me ever returning to normal. I would be a woman for the rest of my life!



(the end)