Girls' Trip-- Complete (Patreon)

Girls’ Trip

T.G. Cooper

and

Natalie

Copyright © 2021 T.G. Cooper

All rights reserved.

ISBN:

ISBN-13:

DEDICATION

To my amazing and wonderous sponsor, Natalie. who gave me the opportunity to work on this wonderful story!

CHAPTER one

I read a discussion board on Goodreads called Smart Women.  There are always lots of good books being talked about on there— good and also hip.  The thing is, I am interested in women— the way they think, the way they see the world.

As part of my morning routine, after my catching up on the sports news, I get up and wander back to the break room, where I get my second cup of tea of the day and make small talk as necessary.

On my way back from the break room, steaming cup of coffee in hand, I stop at Kylie’s cubicle and lean over the flimsy wall, saying something like: “I can’t decide if suggesting that skirt is too short is doing my duty as a co-worker or straying into the realm of sexual harassment.”

Kylie looks over the frames of her glasses and says, “Goodbye, Colin.”

“Rude,” I answer.  “Don’t you want to help me with my dilemma?”

“I have work to do,” Kylie says.

My eyes go to her screen.  She is answering emails, but this one seems to be from a resort, and there is a picture of a shimmering pool, and beyond it the sparkling blue expanse of the ocean.  “Vacation?”  I ask.

“Oh, no,” Kylie says, putting her hand over her screen.  “This is none of your business!”

I make it my business, and by lunch I have gotten it out of her that she and her two besties from college have planned a girl’s trip to Miami Beach.  “How can you even consider going without me?”  I say.  “I’m the fourth musketeer.”

“There were only three musketeers.”

“What?  That can’t be right.”

“Why do you think the book was called The Three Musketeers?”

“There’s a book?”

I prefer to hang out with women.  I feel like they have more fun, and when I am the only guy in a group of girls there is none of the usual macho stuff to deal with, so I have a way of sneaking my way into Kylie’s life.  As far as she and I— not happening.  Probably.  Kylie is leggy, blonde, chock full of confidence.  Maybe out of my league. Anyway, in addition to being a lot of fun, Kylie has a LOT of female friends, so her friendship is essential to my social life.  I keep it alive at all costs, and I follow them all on social media, which keeps me connected to what’s up in the world of women’s culture these days.

I haven’t gone on a trip in a while.  I need a break.  Some of the guys have been talking about getting a cabin up in the mountains and doing some hunting, which I have been considering.  But now the possibility of hitting the beach with Kylie and her friends has come up, and I am determined to be a part of it.  It’s kind of a dream of mine. Of course, sure, I am a guy and being surrounded by a bunch of beautiful bodies is little tiny bikinis is part of the dream, but I also have a little bit of a thing for her friend Taylor, who I saw on the list.  I am kind of hoping letting her get a chance to see me in my trunks might seal the deal.

Which is why you find me straining to maintain the longest down dog in all the infernal history of yoga while trying to check out her friend Tara’s booty while not letting any of the women in the studio know I am checking out Taylor’s booty.  You cannot be THAT guy and hope to have any chance with the yoga community.  No.  I also really don’t want to be that guy, it’s just that she looks so good, and my eyes do not always listen to my brain.

Tara is a goddess, of course.  She has the most perfect, chocolate skin, and the body of a dancer, which she is— as in a professional dancer.  You have never seen such legs.  I assure you.  Unless, you have seen Taylor’s legs in a pair of yoga pants, that is.  Despite being one of the most beautiful and graceful women I have ever met, Tara obsesses over her body and hides a mass of insecurities behind a megawatt smile.  She makes her own clothes, rocks at karaoke and even makes her own kombucha.  I am obsessed with her.

After class, I tag along with the girls as they head off for post yoga smoothies.  They tease me over how un-flexible I am, calling me the tin man.  I laugh along.  I can take a joke.  We get our smoothies— I, of course, order a high protein smoothie because I have to remind them how muscular and manly I am— and take seats at one of the tables outside on the sidewalk.  It’s a brisk day.  Not too cold, but chilly enough for jackets. Fall is coming.

Nicole shivers.  She’s the brunette of this triad.  Long, curly hair and big, bright eyes.  “It’s getting chilly,” she says.  “I love fall, but it also makes me sad because I know winter is coming.”

“Not a fan of winter,” I agree, seeing the perfect segue.  “It’s so dark.”

“I like it,” Kylie says.  “I have so many cute sweaters!

“There is that,” Nicole agrees.

“And boots!” Taylor says.  “I am so ready to show off my new boots!”

See, this is the kind thing I learn hanging out with these women.  I never once thought about one of the benefits of winter being an opportunity to wear cute boots.  It’s so “girl,” and I just love hearing them talk about these kinds of things.

As much as I would like to hear more about boots and sweaters, I need to get them to let me go on their trip. “I get depressed from the cold.  The dark.  It’s so hard to get through the winter.  I just wish I had some friends who would invite me along on their vacation to some warm, fun city.”

“No, Colin,” Kylie says.  “This is just for the girls.”

“It’s a chance for us to hang and catch up,” Nicole says.

“We went to Miami Beach back in college,” Taylor adds.  “So, you know, this is a sacred thing.  Like a goddess thing.”

I frown and slump my shoulders, laying it on. “I guess I’ll just have to try and make it on my own.  All alone.  In the cold.  So Lonely.  Abandoned.”

The girls laugh. “Poor baby,” Taylor says.

“Just go to a bar and burp and fart with some guys,” Kylie says.  “You’ll be fine.”

“Or hit up Tinder.”

“I am not a Tinder type,” I say.  “I am all about spiritual connection.”

Once more, the girls laugh.  “You are such a slut,” Taylor says.  “Don’t even.”

I act hurt.  “Your words are like daggers!” I say and take a sip of my smoothie.  “You are a cruel woman.”

“You finally figured that out, eh?” Kylie says.

Over the next few weeks, I keep working on them.  I help Taylor rearrange her furniture.  I come over to Nicole’s place and kill a really big spider.  I pitch in Kylie’s project at work.  I am hoping to guilt them all into letting me come along.  I am finally able to seal the deal after getting them to invite me along to brunch.

“You’ve got to let me come with you guys,” I said.  “I can’t take any more of this cold.  I need to see the sun!”

“You’ll be in the way.”  Kylie stirred her latte.  She always stirs counter clockwise, and very slowly.

“It’s just for the girls.”  Taylor had ordered a cappuccino, which she now sipped like a little mouse, taking the tiniest little nibbles.

“It’s not going to be some action guy thing,” Nicole said.  “Mostly we’ll be laying on the beach in our bikinis getting sun.”

‘I’m all about tanning,” I said.  “I can lay out all day.  No problem.”

“But will you wear a bikini?”  Taylor asked.

“I don’t think you want to see me in a bikini.”

“Oh, I most definitely want to see you in a thong.”

“You’d look soooo cute,” Kylie said.  The girls all laughed as I covered my eyes, mortified at the image of myself in a thong.

“Seriously,” I said, taking a sip of his coffee. “I am a vacation enhancer.  I would make everything better.  Plus, I can protect you if some gross guys try and creep on you.”

“You’re going to creep on us,” Taylor said.

“Me?  No way, I promise. Not that you girls aren’t hotties, of course, but I’ m just looking for some sunshine and warmth.  Come on, please?”

It was quiet.  Then, Taylor said, “How about you give us a minute to talk about this?”

“Seriously?” I said.

“Seriously?”  Taylor said.

“Seriously?” Nicole said.

“Okay, everyone, enough with the seriously,” Taylor said, then she shooed me away.  “Go.  Go.  Go. Scooch.”

I took my paper cup of coffee and walked to the other side of the Starbucks, taking a seat at the table.  The girls put their heads together, whispering and occasionally glancing over at me, snickering, then laughing out loud. What were they up to?  I wondered.  It suddenly felt less like I was talking them into something and more like I was being lured into a trap.

Taylor waved me back over.  “So?”  I said, sauntering up to the table.

“You can come with,” Taylor said.

“Yes!”

“But there is one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You have to do everything with us.  Everything.  Some of it might be pretty girly.”

“Cool,” I said, though I had no intention of doing anything too girly.  He looked at Taylor.  “I can’t wait.”

“We’re serious,” Taylor said. “Everything.  You sure you’re up to it?”

“I can’t wait,” I lied

Taylor smiled. “Make sure to pack a bikini.”  The girls exchanged knowing little glances and snickered.

I suddenly wasn’t sure if they were serious or not, but me in a bikini wasn’t happening, so I mimicked their snickering and said, “I’ll pack two.”

“This is going to be so much fun,” Nicole said, though her tone made it sound almost like a threat.

“What are you girls up to?”  I asked.  “You’re all acting very weird.”

“You’ll see,” Kylie said.  “We want it to be a surprise.”

I caught an Uber to the airport, then made my way through security.  The girls had already made it though and were waiting for me at a bar near Gate 12.  I hurried through the concise, wanting to get at least one drink in me before boarding the plane.  I was going on vacation with a group of gorgeous women, and I planned on having all kinds of fun.  As I approached the bar— Calypso—  I saw the girls sitting around a small table, having drinks. “Ladies.”

“Hey, girl!”  Kylie  sang out as Colin approached.

“Are you late because you had to do your makeup?” Taylor said.

“Okay, okay,” I said, glancing around, feeling self-conscious being called ‘girl.’

“Did you pack your bikini?”  Nicole asked.

“I’m wearing it right now under my clothes,” I said.

A waitress came over.  “Can I take your order?”

“I’ll take a Corona,” I said, wanting to get in the spirit.

“Um, scratch that said,” Kylie said.  “Bring this girl a cosmo.”

“Cosmo?”  I said.  “I am not…"

“She doesn’t know what she wants,” Taylor said.  “Cosmo.”

The waitress grinned and said, “right away.”

“Okay.  Okay.  Maybe cool it on the girl stuff?”

“But you wanted to be one of the girls, didn’t you?”  Kylie said.

“I just wanted to hang out with the girls, not be one of them.”

“I think you’d make a really cute girl,” Nicole said.

“I know, right?”  Taylor said.  “Such pretty eyes!”

“And the bone structure!”  Kylie chimed in.

“You guys are not going to make this easy, are you?”

“You have no idea,” Kylie said.  “Now drink your cosmo.”

The girls had decided to take an afternoon flight, so they could get a good night’s rest and then hit the beach in the morning.  They were all exhausted, so they decided everyone could do dinner on their own and then get to bed.  We would have plenty of time to socialize over the next few days. I got a burger at the beach side bar, had a couple beers.  Fueled by the alcohol, I couldn’t stop thinking about Taylor and that million dollar smile of hers.  I had to see her, so I went up to her room and knocked.

Taylor opened the door.  She wore a lime green bikini top, and the sight of those little ties across her shoulder made me giddy. Her skin was so perfect.   I looked in those big, beautiful eyes of hers and was about to compliment her, when she said, “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Really?”

“Come on in.” She led me into her hotel room, her hips swaying. She glanced back over her shoulder at me and gave me a big, bright smile.

Taylor sat, patting the spot on the couch next to her.  I sat where she’d indicated, our knees almost touching. “You’re gorgeous,” I said, looking into her eyes.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Taylor said, with a flirtatious giggle.

“Just the hot ones,” I said.  Leaning closer.  We were looking directly into each other’s eyes, searching. Taylor’s mouth opened, and she let the tip of her pink tongue glide along her lower lip.  The smell of her perfume— something flowery and tropical— filled my head.  “I need you,” I said, putting my hand to her soft cheek, leaning in for a kiss.

Taylor put her hand to my mouth and pushed me back.  “I don’t think so,” she said.

“Come on,” I said, taking her wrist and moving her hand out of the way as I leaned in again.  “I’m going to lose my mind.”

Taylor leaned back and said, “The thing is, I like my men big and strong, and your feminine little arms are kind of a turn off.”

I laughed.  “Hilarious,” I said, thinking it was just playful flirting.  I started to push her arm back, meaning to pin her to the couch, when my arms and shoulders started to tingle.  I ignore the feeling, as I was totally focused on Taylor’s gorgeous face, that full, wet mouth of hers.  But then, she started to struggle against me, and to my surprise I found myself being pushed back.  I looked at my wrist and forearm shrinking, all the wiry muscle gone as reshaped itself into something more like you might see on a teen aged girl. “What’s happening?”  I said as Taylor pushed me onto my back, pinning my arms over my head, holding me at the wrists.  I struggled, making small grunting sounds, shocked and humiliated to find myself being overpowered by this— girl.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Taylor said.  “Your arms are pretty.  But you’re so vulnerable, and you couldn’t even help me move my furniture now.”

“You’re dreaming,” I said, struggling, trying to get leverage, refusing to believe that Taylor was so much stronger than me.  It’s not like she lifted.  I still felt confident I would eventually get her on her back. “You just wait,” I said, trying with all of my strength to push her off.

Taylor had by this point straddled me, and I would feel her thighs tight against my ribcage.  “I could probably forgive you for your girly little arms,” Taylor said.  “But, I mean, you are so skinny and short, it would be like dating a woman.”

CHAPTER two

“What are you talking about?”  I said, struggling and now feeling frustrated, demeaned.  Maybe even a little claustrophobic.  But, even as I refused to accept my weakness, I felt my whole body tingle.  It felt like it all pulled— in.  Like my feet pulled toward my head, my head pulled toward my feet, and everything in between shrink wrapped to a smaller, tinier version.  I couldn’t see myself at all, as Taylor had me pinned and was looking down into my face, smiling, but it felt like she was growing bigger, heavier, and as much as I had felt smoothed before, I now felt her strength and size more keenly.  “Get off me!” I shouted, bucking my hips.  I planted my feet and tried to get more leverage, but she was too big, too strong.  My mind reeled.  None of this was possible.

“Use the magic word,” Taylor said.

“What are you even talking about?”  I shouted.  “Get off me now!”

“Another thing— you have that little girl voice.  I’m sure it excites all the boys, but from a woman’s perspective it just isn’t a turn on.”

I felt my throat tingle.  Despite what had happened so far, how each thing she had said had come true, I still didn’t believe this was happening. “This isn’t fun,” I said, wincing as I found myself speaking in a tea kettle voice.  “My— how did you change my voice?  Okay.  Stop.”

“I thought you liked playing rough,” Taylor said.

“I— don’t like this,” I said, feeling powerless, controlled.  My arms were still pinned above my head, and I was squirming, straining to get free. “Stop.”

“Magic word?” Taylor said.

“Magic?”  Then, I realized what she was trying to get me to say.  “No.  Just.. let me go!” I shrieked, horrified at how much like a girl I sounded.

“Say please,” Taylor said.  “Pretty please.”

I stared at her, furious.  Having someone else physically dominate me, control me?  I couldn’t stand the feeling, and finally I realized I just needed for this to stop.  “Pretty please,” I sighed.  “Pretty please let me go.”

Taylor let go off my wrists and climbed off me.   I rolled off the couch and onto my feet, stumbling as the couch seemed much higher than I remembered.  I looked UP at Taylor, my mind reeling at the possibility that she was taller than me, and I backed away, confused as I looked down once more at my slender arms, my small hands.  My shoes, which were now far too big for me, slipped off as I moved. “What’s happening?”  I said.  “What’s going on?”  I grabbed at my shorts, which threatened to slide down my narrow little hips.

“You’re cute,” Taylor said.  “But you’d be even cuter if you had long, blonde hair.”

I felt my scalp tingle, and I reached up and put my hands on my head to feel my hair.  It felt short, the same, but then it suddenly started to grow.  I felt the hair lengthen, spreading, pushing between my fingers.  It tickled my cheeks and then I felt it pour down over my shoulder in syrupy waves even as bangs dropped into my eyes.  I was wearing a tank top, the silky hair tickled my shoulders. My hands were already buried in my now golden locks, so I pulled it back, then brushed the bangs back from my eyes.  I grabbed a length of the hair and looked at the shimmering blonde, tugging, feeling it yank at my scalp.    My brain had started to shut down.  None of this was possible.  None of this could be happening.   I was so stunned I didn’t even realize my shorts had now slid down and lay at my ankles.

Taylor took a step toward me, and I stepped back, leaving my shorts behind.  My tank top fell down to mid-thigh now like a dress, and I could feel the cool hotel room air on my bare legs.  “Stay away from me!”  I said.

“Colin,” Taylor said, making a sad face.  “You don’t need to be afraid of me. We’re friends, remember?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” I lied.

Taylor lunged toward me, and I screamed, jumping away from her.

“Oh,” she said, putting her hands to her cheeks.  “Poor baby!  I love how smooth your skin is, by the way.  Did you get a bikini wax?”

I could feel it happening, and it was still a shock when I looked at my arm and saw the hair pulling back into my skin, leaving behind a smooth, bright skin.  I looked down to my thighs and saw the same, brushed my fingertips against my now silky skin.

I was starting to get some ability to think back, to process.  My brain told me that none of this could possibly be real.  “Did you drug me?”  I said.  “Is that how you—- made me think this is real?”

“It is real,” Taylor said.

Just then, the connecting door to the next room opened and Kylie and Nicole came into the room.  Kylie held a small statue in her hands that seemed to be glowing.  The two women squealed at the sight of me, so small and skinny with my gorgeous blonde hair.  “He’s so cute!”  Kylie said. “maybe we should keep him this way?”

“You’re all in on this?”  I said.

“Your voice is soooo sexy,” Nicole said, delighted.

“Shut up,” I said, pushing his hair back from his face.

“He sounds just like my little sister,” Taylor said.

“Guys!”  I whined.  “Stop, already.  Okay?”

“He’s missing something,” Nicole said.

“I agree,” Taylor said.  “Now, what is it?”

I backed away, shaking my head, my long blonde hair swirling around my face. “Boobs?”  Kylie said.

“Oh, that’s right,” Taylor said.  “You boys love jugs, hooters, ta tas, right?”

“I bet he’d love to have his own bongos,” Nicole said.

“Okay, guys, let’s just hit the pause button…”. I said.

“Let’s give him a pair of cute little a-cups, shall we?” Nicole said.

“Oh, no…” I said, even as I felt my chest and nipples tingle.  Looking down, I saw the front of my tank top start to swell until I had a pair of Hershey’s Kisses poking proudly from my chest.  “Boobs?” I said, unable to resist the urge to cup them with my hands, to squeeze and lift, the same way I had done to more than a few girls back in my middle school days.  I felt my hands on my breasts, felt a weird tingle of pleasure as I squeezed them.  I yanked my hands away.  “You gave me boobs?”  I screamed.  “Stop!  Fix me!”  I stomped my foot and felt my chest bounce.  I look down in horror.  It was the most emasculating change of all.  I mean a guy might be short and skinny, weak, and he could even have long hair.  But a guy did not have tits, and I now had tits.

“He does look cute with those little A cups, but he is a woman, not a little girl,” Taylor said.

“He should have at least B-cups,” Nicole added.

“I should make them bigger,” Kylie said.

“B… no, don’t make them bigger!  Get rid of them.”

“Are you a little girl, Colin?  Do you want little bitty titties like a tween girl?”  Kylie asked in a mocking tone.

“Yeah, are you a little girl?” Taylor said.

“I’m not a little girl,” I spat back, and seeing them all grin I realized my mistake.  “That doesn’t mean I want..”

“B cups!”  Kylie sang out.

“No….  Oh, no…” I said as my perky little breasts started to tingle.  I covered them with my hands, trying for some insane reason to hold them in, to stop them from growing, but instead I just felt as the little cones swelled and rounded in my hands, filling my palms.  I could feel them more fully on my chest now, and they started to strain against the fabric of my tank top.  I took my hands away to see firm, round breasts swaying on my chest, stretching out the words “Sun’s out Guns Out.”  I raised my shoulders and felt my breasts lift, sway, felt my nipples rubbing against the coarse fabric.

“Sexy,” Taylor said.

“He’s blossoming into quite the fetching young lady,” Nicole added.

“Like a high-school hottie,” Kylie said.

“In other words,” Taylor said, finally addressing me.  “You got great tits, girl.”

I wrapped my arms around my newly grown breasts, feeling their soft weight in my arms, the pressure of them on my chest.  It was totally humiliating to have these women checking out my tits.  My fight or flight response kicked in, and flight won, hands down.  “I’m out of here!”  I said, keeping my arms wrapped around my jiggling breasts.  I scurried toward the door.  Taylor, who was now a couple inches taller than me, stepped into my way.  Remembering how easily she’d dominated me, and I have to admit I felt a little scared of her, scared she would pin me down again and make me feel helpless, I stepped back, making a little squeaking sound.   This isn’t me,I thought.  I’m not scared of girls!

It was not me, as I said, but with my blonde bangs dusting across the tops of my eyes, and my soft new breasts cradled in my little arms, I had to admit that I was NOT me anymore.  Not at all.

“A guy like Colin really loves the well endowed ladies,” Nicole said.  “Women with those hooters, missiles, maracas…. What else do you call them, Colin?”

“Jugs,” I answered without thinking.  “But only in the most respectful way.”

“Let’s give him some jugs he can really respect,” Taylor said.

“I’m fine, really… “ I said, feeling the terror in me growing.  “These are more than enough..”

“I’m thinking C cups,” Kylie said.

“Right on, sister,” Taylor said.

“I am begging you…” I said, but my manageable little b cups were already swelling, pushing my arms out… I let them fall, looking down in horror as my tank top expanded and expanded… I felt my boobs getting bigger, felt the weight of my chest and threw my shoulders back against the tug of gravity… my breasts now jutted out from my body, it looked like… and they were sweet, gravity defying breasts that rested high and proud.  They stretched out the collar and sides of my tank top, and the shoulder straps were now digging into my narrow little shoulders.  I could feel cool air against my side boobs as they pushed out the sides of the arm holes.

These were great boobs.  Just the kind I loved— on a woman.  I was struggling to comprehend that they were mine, that I now had a pair of huge, gorgeous breasts.  Inexplicably, my now big, fat nipples got hard, poking at the fabric of my shirt and sending all kinds of girly feelings through my body.

“Looks like someone’s excited,” Kylie said.

I held my hands over my nipples, not touching them as I was terrified at how sensitive they were, the entirely feminine feelings I experienced when touching my breasts.  I just shielded them so the girls couldn’t see my erect nipples.  I look at the three women, who were all grinning, checking me out, looking me over like I was a hot new dress on sale.

“Feeling shy?” Taylor teased.

“Stop looking at my … breasts,” I said, weirded out to have all these women staring at the tits I shouldn’t have.  That, of course, just brought amused laughter from the girls, who all loved having turned the tables on me.

“Turn around, cutie,” Nicole said.

I thought she meant so they couldn’t see my hooters anymore, so I turned.  “Good idea.”

“That way we can get a look at that sexy ass of yours,” she said.

“Oh, no.. not another change…” I said glancing back over my round little shoulder, my blonde hair trailing all down my back. “Not that…”

“He needs to have a bubble butt,” Taylor said.

“High and firm,” Kylie agreed.

“A really sexy, big ass that just gives every guy a boner,” Nicole said.  “Yes.  That is just what he needs.”

I closed my eyes.  I knew what was about to happen, and I was about worn out emotionally from this whole crazy experience.  I felt my hips spread, felt my sadly flat booty swell, straining against my jockey shorts, pushing back, lifting my tank top. The jockeys were way too small for my ass, and I felt them riding up my ass cheeks, exposing the bottoms to the cool air of the room, giving my goosebumps. I looked and my ass was now so big I could actually see the inviting curve, and I felt myself getting a little horny as I pictured my own sweet ass, saw myself with these supple tits, that banging ass.  I was inside a hot piece of ass, I was a hot piece of ass— almost— and the thought both humiliated me and turned me on like I had never been turned on before.

“That is a gorgeous booty,” Nicole said.  “Guys see you, they are going to be thinking doggy style.”

“That will never happen,” I said, turning back to face them, deciding having them check out my bust was better than having them busting on my ass.  It felt off even to turn around, with my big hips and plump ass.  My whole body felt wrong, out of balance and … fat.  I had body sticking out all over, and I was used to being all flat.  “So, what the hell is this?”  I said, one hand hovering over my hard, aching nipples while I used to other to once more brush my annoying hair out of my eyes.  “I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends,” Nicole said.

“Girlfriends,” Kylie agreed.

“That reminds me of something,” Taylor said.

“Me, too.” Kylie said.

“I know!”  Nicole snapped her fingers.  “This trip is for friends.  Girl friends, to be precise.”

“We did tell you you would be one of the girls,” Taylor said.

“And you would need to wear a bikini.”  Kylie crossed her arms and nodded.  “That was part of the deal.”

“So, you want me to put on a bikini and be all girly or something?”  I said.

“All girl. Good idea,” Taylor said, pointing toward me.  “See?  Just because you’re a blonde with nice tits, that doesn’t mean you’re dumb.”

“He does need to be ALL girly,” Kylie agreed, nodding.

“ALL girl. Obvs,” Nicole said.  “We need to gift him his girlhood.”

“Get rid of that hot dog” Taylor agreed.

“Give him a bun,” Nicole laughed.

I felt a chill settle into my groin and my knees went together, even as I reached down and cupped my junk with my hands.  I could feel my breasts pressing against the insides of my arms, but my new puppies were the least of my concerns.  I still felt on some level that this was all an illusion, some trick, but hearing the words chop it terrified me. “Do not do whatever you are thinking about doing!”

“You see?  That’s the last reason I can’t make out with you,” Taylor said. “I really like guys who have boy parts, and you have a vagina.”

“Bye, bye,” Nicole said, blowing me a kiss.

“Time to say goodbye to your little friend,” Kylie added.

“Oh, god no!”  I cried out, sounding like a tea kettle.  “Not this!  Not my dick!”   I felt it tingle and then start to grow smaller and smaller, shrivelling up like in a cold pool of water, shrinking  from a kielbasa to a hot dog and then a cocktail Weiner, and as it shrank it felt like my balls pulled up into my torso, my shame and terror growing as even the cocktail weiner vanished, and I felt my hands covering a mound of soft, female flesh. It didn’t seem possible.  I felt only emptiness where I’d always expected to feel-- something.  It felt like someone punched me in the stomach, could feel ovaries, a womb opening up inside me, and my knees went weak as I struggled to keep from collapsing, shaking my head… no…. No… no… “My dick…” I whispered… “You can’t be gone….  You can’t….”  Desperate to disprove this nightmare of what I was experiencing and no longer even thinking about these women, I lifted my tank top and shoved my hand down the front of my underwear, feeling stiff, bristly hairs, a vulva,,, lips…. I felt my fingers brush the lips of MY vagina, and I screamed.  “You killed me!  You killed me!  Oh, my God, you left me with nothing!”

I felt something inside me clench then, and a scraping sensation, and I knew instinctively I was forming a womb, ovaries, that I was becoming completely female inside and out.

It was the last straw.  My brain broke as it was overwhelmed with impossible sensations from body parts I wasn’t supposed to have— the weight of my breasts, the feeling of my cotton tank rubbing against my hard, ultra-sensitive nipples, the thick, heavy hair tickling my shoulders, sweeping across my eyes…. The empty space between my legs…. The feeling of my fingers touching my vagina.. I made a high pitched little “eeek!”

And then I fainted.

.

CHAPTER three

I heard voices as I slowly started to come to consciousness.  “He’s so pretty… look at those legs… I know, right… his lips are so big and kissable…” Was I still dreaming?  I had had the weirdest dream… Taylor and the others had turned me into a girl.. so odd… I felt a soft hand on my cheek, kind of patting it… “come on doll, wakey wakey…” Kylie said.  As I came back more fully to consciousness, I felt something soft spread out on my chest, something stringy in my mouth and started to try and push it out with my tongue, and when I opened my eyes there was something covering them, so I reached up, feeling my chest  press against my inner arm, and my chest moved….  I saw a slender, dainty hand pulling shimmering blonde hair out of my eyes, and all three of the girls were looking down at me, smiling.

“Hey, girl,” Taylor said.

I sat up, feeling my chest sway and bounce, and looking down I saw the breasts swelling against my tank top, and I yelped. “It was real?”  I said, stunned to realize it wasn’t a dream.  I really was a girl.  Being a female, having all these girls around me, I wanted to curl up into a ball and die.  Taylor held out her hand.  “Come on,” she said.

I grabbed her hand and got unsteadily to my feet, feeling my breasts swaying, nipples rubbing against my shirt.  I crossed my arms over my soft breasts and looked around at the girls, who were all a little taller than me now and standing around me in a half circle.  “I have to go,” I said, feeling small, intimidated, weak.

“Now, now,” Nicole said, putting a hand on the small of my back and guiding me toward the couch.  “Don’t go running off now.”

I let her guide me, glancing around at the girl’s pretty, smiling faces.  “What’s going on?”  I said as I sat down.

“Um, Colin, legs together?” Taylor said.

I had sat down in a classic manspread, and felt cool air flow up my tank top and between my legs.  Hearing her say that made me feel super self-conscious about my new sex, and I closed my legs, my knees together, feeling my soft, hairless thighs press against each other, squirming at the sudden realization of my lack, that there was nothing getting smashed between my legs.  I had my arms wrapped around my chest, hair falling across my eyes.  “Why?”  I said.

The girls sat around me— Taylor and Nicole on either side of me on the couch, while Kylie pulled up a chair and sat across from me, our knees touching.  “You wanted to be a part of our girls’ weekend didn’t you?” Kylie said.

Nicole reached out and swept my hair back from my eyes. “You wanted to see what it was like to hang out with the girls.”

Taylor touched me gently on the arm.  “To be with us while we let our hair down?”

“Yeah,” I said, the buzzy tea kettle sound of my voice making me wince with shame.  “But I didn’t want to be one of you.”

“But you really have to be,” Kylie said, putting a hand on my knee.  “Don’t you see?  We couldn’t really be ourselves with a guy around.  Having a dude here would change the whole dynamic.”

“Now, you can really see what fun it is to go out with the girls,” Taylor said.

“Cool… cool… cool…” I said. “But, yeah, I don’t think this is really for me.  I’m kind of more into being a dude, so…”

“You’re going to be a girl the whole weekend,” Kylie said. “And unless you play along and join us for all the fun times we’re going to have, we must just keep you like that.”

“Keep me like… this?”  I said.

“You’re really hot,” Nicole said.  “I’m not into girls, but I really want to kiss you.”

For some reason, the thought of her trying to kiss me in this body actually kind of scared me I leaned back, shaking my head.

“I could totally motor boat your girls,” Taylor said, eying my chest.

“You wouldn’t,” I said.  “You couldn’t.  No one would recognize me. What would I do?”

“Hooters is always hiring,” Kylie said.

“Hooters!”  I shrieked.

“Okay, don’t get your panties in a wad,” Kylie said.  She took my hand.  “Just…  do it.  Hang with us.  You’ll be glad you did.”

“You’re not giving me a choice,” I said.

“No.”

I thought for a second, looking at all the girls’ faces.  They were smiling, seemed really happy, amused.

“Say yes,” Nicole said.

“Come on,” Taylor added.  “Don’t be a wimp.”

“We want you to hang out with us, girl,” Kylie said.

“This is not cool,” I said. “But, fine.  Okay.”

“Yes!”  They all shouted.  “Hugs!”  Nicole and Taylor threw their arms around me and hugged me, kissing me on the cheeks. “Oh!  Stop!”  I said, struggling to my feet, tugging at the hem of my tank top.

“Okay.  The fun starts now,” Kylie said.  “The first item on our itinerary— bikini shopping!”

“Yes!” The girls all shouted.

“But didn’t you all pack bikinis?”  I said.

“We did, but you didn’t!”

“Oh, no,” I said, realizing they meant for me.

“Oh, yes!” Kylie said, grabbing my hand.  “But you can’t go like that.  You need to change.”

“I can just go like this,” I said, feeling butterflies in my stomach at the thought of leaving my room like this, let alone trying on a bikini.

“You need to wear underwear underneath when you try on a bikini,” Nicole explained as if she were talking to a child.

“Underwear? I’m wearing underwear.”

“Not boxer briefs,” Taylor said.  “Something more like these.”  She held up a tiny little scrap of black lace that I recognized as panties.  The butterflies in my stomach went nuts and I blushed with shame.

“I can’t,” I said.  “No way.”

The girls all smiled.

Of course, I lost the argument.  I went into the bathroom and slipped out of my now baggy, oversized boxer briefs, feeling cool air swirl around my legs and the empty space where my junk used to be. I became acutely aware that I now had nothing down there, just an empty gap between my thighs, and I shivered.

I held the panties and looked at them, shaking my head.  What I held consisted of a tiny triangle of black lace and a bunch of string.  They were super sexy.  I would love to see a woman wearing them, but now I was about to put them on, and a bunch of hot girls were outside waiting, knowing I was about to slip into my first panties.  Rip off the band-ade, I told myself.  I stepped into the panties and pulled them up the length of my long, smooth legs. My smooth, hairless skin made it so they almost seemed to glide up over my thighs, and the cool, silky fabric sent shivers across the flesh of  my bare legs. My skin seemed so much more sensitive, and I was sure part of that was the lack of my old, wiry leg hairs.  I winced as I pulled them over my hips, feeling the floss slip up between my but cheeks even as the soft triangle at the front seemed to cup the empty space between the legs.  I squirmed and tried to adjust them, but they fit the way they were supposed to.  I just wasn’t supposed to be wearing panties, and I wasn’t supposed to have that patch of nothing between my legs, now with the soft fabric of the panties pressed against it.  My mind reeled against these new feelings, the reality of what I was and what I was wearing.

I grabbed the hem of my tank top and pulled it over my head, struggling to get all my hair through the shoulder straps.  My breasts lifted and then bobbled back into place with a little bounce.  Taylor, giggling, handed me one her bras-- it was also tiny, black lace. Feeling the same sense of confusion and shame at the thought I was about to wear it, and more that I needed it.  I struggled against the temptation to check myself out in the bathroom mirror.  On the one hand, I was curious, but on the other hand, I didn’t think I was ready to deal with what I would see in there.  The bra was a single piece, almost like a tank top, and I pulled it over my head, struggled to untangle my hair from the shoulder straps, then pulled them up over my shoulders and fitted my breasts into the cups.  It was strange to feel the strap across my back, the shoulder straps digging into my shoulders, but the feeling of the cups holding my puppies actually felt good.  The only thing was my boobs seemed to be pushing out from under the bottoms and sides of the cups, and I struggled to adjust it, trying to tug it down to cover my breasts, only to have it slip down so my nipples were sticking out.

“How’s it coming in there?” Taylor called.

“We don’t have all night?” Nicole said.

“Why does it take women so long to get ready?” Kylie said, putting on a “guy voice.”

“This bra is too small,” I said, squirming. “My… these boobs are … they…”

“We’ll decide if your bra is too small,” Kylie said. “Come on out and let us see.”

“It’s too small!”  I insisted.

“Don’t be shy,” Taylor said. “You don’t have anything we haven’t seen before.”

“That’s what’s so embarrassing,” I murmured to myself.  What choice did I have?  Throwing one hand across my chest and using the other to cover the front of my panties—  I was so humiliated to have the girls see me looking so femine… I slipped out of the bathroom, hunched over, blushing.

“Come on,” Taylor said.  “We can’t tell if your bra is too small unless we can see it.”

I dropped my arm, now putting both hands over my new sex, which caused my breasts to squish together between my little arms.

“You’re crazy!”  Kylie squealed.  “You look sexy as hell, bitch!”

“If anything it’s too big!”

“Let’s get him a smaller bra,” Nicole said.

“Smaller?  No!  This is fine.  Okay?  Fine,” I said, terrified.

The outfit they’d picked out for me to go bikini shopping consisted of a pair of tiny little Dukes and a yellow tank top with a flower on the chest.  The girls watched, snickering as I wiggled into the tiny little shorts. They were small and stretchy, and it felt like I’d squeezed into a second skin, the fabric hugging my hips and backside, almost seeming to lift my ass. Likewise the tank top, which felt like it was three sizes too small, and ended just above my belly button, showing off my flat tummy.  I could feel cool air against my belly, which was flat and taut, but at the same time soft and smooth. My waist seemed tiny, and more so by the way my hips flared out. Dressed in that tank top, I felt bashful, like I was advertising my fertility to the world, practically begging some man to-- I couldn’t even think of it and tugged on the bottom of my tank in a futile attempt to hide my inviting body.  It was a cute outfit.  Just the kind I would love to see a hot girl wearing. The fact that I was wearing it just made me feel sick.  The super tight clothes also made me extra aware of how— wrong my body felt.  My butt felt like I had a pillow taped to my backside, and my chest was way too big.  “It’s all too small,” I complained, pushing my long hair back over my shoulder.  “I feel like a sausage!”

“Look at us,” Taylor said.  “We’re always wearing clothes that are tight and small.”

“It’s part of being a cute girl,” Nicole said. “Get used to it.”

“And I suppose now you’re going to make me wear high heels?” I said.

“Not yet,” Kylie said, holding up a pair of flip flops covered with sparkling rhinestones. “For now, you can wear these cute little things.”

I rolled my eyes.  “This really is not fun” I said, sipping my feet into the flip flops.  As I did, I felt the floss from my panties pinching, so I reached back and pushed my hand down my shorts, grabbing and trying to adjust it.

“Stop that right now!” Kylie said, slapping my arm.

“It’s pinching me inside my butt!”  I said, trying to adjust it.

“STOP!”  Kylie said, slapping my arm a little harder.

“What?”  I said, pulling my hand out.

Kylie took my chin in her hand and tilted my head back so I was looking her in the eyes.  “That was very unladylike,” she scolded me.  “You can never adjust anything in public.”

“It’s gross,” Nicole agreed.

“You can’t act like a dude,” Taylor said.  “Not when you’re with us.”

“So, what am I supposed to do if my—- panties are all… annoying?”

“Put up with it,” Kylie said. “Just like the other girls.”

“You just put up with it?”  I said.  “But…”

“Put. Up. With. It.” Kylie said.  “Now, get your purse.  We’re going shopping!”

“Purse?” I said, fighting the urge to adjust my rebellious panties, kind of wiggling my big butt, hoping the floss would fix itself.

Nicole held up a white little clutch purse with a sunflower on it that echoed the one on my tank top.  “You’re going to look so cute with this!”

I took the purse, and the girls all cried out, “Selfie!”  They gathered around me, and Taylor held her phone out in front of us on a selfie stick.  I was scowling, feeling humiliated.  Kylie nudged me in the ribs.  “Show us that pretty smile!”

I forced a smile, and the camera flashed.  “Now let’s go get you the cutest bikini ever!”

“I can’t wait,” I said. “Whoop de doo!”

I was trying to be sarcastic, but the girls just giggled and then we all bounded out the door and heard down to the shops.  I tried not to look at myself in the elevator mirror.  I got a glance and saw a pretty blonde girl in a yellow tank top, her round little shoulders shiny in the light.  I felt my knees go a little weak at just a glance of the woman I now was— how pretty and fresh faced she was, how much as a guy I would have been all over a girl like me.  It was too much to process, so I looked away, ignoring the feeling of my bra pinching my boobs a little, the way my hair tickled my cheeks and my shoulders.  I was trying not to think about the fact I was now a woman, but my body wouldn’t let me.  I couldn’t even move without feeling a tremor in my breasts and being reminded I was a woman now.

As we were going down, Kylie suddenly gasped.  “Oh, my God!”

“What?”

“We totally forgot,” Kylie said.  “We picked a girl name for you for the trip.”

“Oh, yeah!” Taylor said.  “You’re going to love it.”

“I doubt it,” I said.  “What is it?  Colina?”

“Colina?”  Nicole said.  “Weirdo.”

“That’s not even a name,” Kylie said.

“I know,” I said.  “I was being sarcastic.”

“It’s hard to tell,” Taylor.  “Everything you say now just sounds cute.”

“Har har,” I said. “So, what’s my girl name?”

The girls all looked at each other and then, in unison, squealed, “Sofia!”

“A pretty name for a pretty girl,” Nicole said, reaching out and hooking a strand of my hair behind my ear.  She was really into playing with my hair.  “Do you like it?”

“No,” I said.  “Can I pick my own name?”

“Oh, my God,” Taylor said.  “That is such a Sofia thing to say.”

“Right?”  Kylie said.

I just rolled my eyes.  It wasn’t a terrible name, I guess, and besides, it was the least of my worries given I had just been given a woman’s body.

CHAPTER four

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I felt a blast of steamy, tropical air that tossed my hair and caressed my bare shoulders. It smelled salty, like the ocean. Taylor grabbed my hand and we hurried along the open air mall attached to the hotel. Despite my best efforts, my wide, round hips swayed, and I was sure in my little shorts it looked like I was walking all flirty, trying to get attention.  Feeling the steamy night air against my midriff reminded me of how exposed I was, how much I looked like a female hungry for male attention. We headed right to a shop called Sun Bunny, with female mannequins in the windows wearing little scraps of cloth I shivered to think I would soon be wearing.  A cute salesgirl came right up to us and said, “Can I help you girls find something?”

You girls.  It was strange to be included with the girls, to be seen as a girl by another female. That strangeness was about to become much more intense as Taylor put an arm over my shoulder and said, “Yes, you most certainly can.  My pretty little friend here needs a few bikinis.  Can you believe she forgot to pack even one?”

“She is such a blonde!” Kylie said.

“Hey!” I said.

“Let me get some things for you to try on,” the girl said.

“She loves bright colors,” Nicole said, once again playing with my hair. “And the smaller the better!”

“That’s not true!” I called, though I don’t know if she even heard me.

“This is so fun,” Nicole said.  “You should let me braid your hair.  It’s so pretty.”

“I guess,” I said, watching the sales girl as she frolicked around the store, collecting my doom.

“There’s one thing we didn’t tell you yet,” Kylie said as she checked her phone for messages.  “We’re also going to change your personality.”

“Little bit by little bit,” Taylor said.  “And we’re going to warn you, but keep it a surprise.”

“What do you mean by change my personality?”  I said, half hiding behind the girls.  The only customers in the store were women, but I felt like they kept looking at us, almost like they were checking us out.

“Make you more girly,” Nicole said, still toying with my hair.

I finally batted her hand away.  “Stop it.”

“We might make you flirty,” Kylie said.

“Or make it so you love having guys check you out.”

“What?”

“Or, maybe even make it so you totally want a dude to bone you,” Nicole.

“You can’t!  You wouldn’t!”  I hissed, glancing around, nervous the other girls in the shop might have heard them talking about me wanting to get boned by some guy!

Before we could talk anymore about it, the girl came and handed me some scraps.  “I’ll hold your purse while you try one on,” Kylie said.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to sound sarcastic, though I wasn’t sure I pulled it off the way I sounded now.  It sounded more bratty.  I took the bikinis into the changing room.  They were actually each somewhat different.  I wiggled out of my shorts, struggling to get them over my wide, soft hips and my big butt, which actually jiggled as I slid out of my shorts.  Then I yanked my tank top off, once more feeling my breasts rise and then bounce into place.  They felt huge to me, having had a flat chest my whole life, like I had a pair of cantaloupes glued to my chest, and I could feel my nipples as if they were floating out away from my ribcage.  I stood with my back to the mirror, but couldn’t resist taking a quick glance over my round little shoulder, seeing my blonde hair sparkling in the light, trailing all the way down my back, tickling my skin with each move of my head.  My waist was so slender it seemed impossible, and then there was a little sway at the small of my back, and then the flare of my hips and my plump, lifted rear… Once more I became acutely aware of what I did not feel-- no swaying of my dick, no feeling of the weight of my balls.  Instead I could feel nothing, the air just flowing between my thighs, a tiny little triangular thigh gap, a tiny bit of my butt visible through my legs.

Once more I had to look away.  The sight of me as a gorgeous girl threatened to overwhelm my mind.  Not that the reality facing me on the other side was better.  The first bikini I decided to try on was one of those fancy ones with a metal loop connecting the cups and metal loops connecting the two sides of the bottoms as well.  I wiggled and squirmed my way into the bikini, adjusted the straps and actually felt some relief because as tiny as it was, it provided more coverage then the teeny weeny lingerie they’d given me. I’d looked at so many girls wearing bikinis over the years, had lusted after the sight of them bundled into these little feminine scraps of perfection, to have one now molded perfectly to the curves of my new body, cupping my breasts, tight against the empty space between my legs, made me feel dizzy, and I had to lean against the mirror for a sec to keep from falling over. The girls were calling to me from outside, and I knew I had no choice, so I finally took a deep breath, which made my breasts rise and strain against my top, and stepped through the dressing room curtain.

“Girl, please!” Kylie said, snapping a picture of me with her phone.

“You are so hot!” Nicole circled around me.  “That ass, though.”

“A perfect peach,” Taylor agreed.

I made a little squeak and reached back to cover my butt cheeks, but that made me arch my back and thrust my breasts out.  “Stay just like that,” Kylie said as she snapped another picture.

“Goddess!” Taylor gushed.  “Dangerous curves ahead.”

I felt myself blushing.  It was surreal to have these girls praising me for my curves, my ass, to be standing here in public wearing a bikini.  I felt a little annoyed and angry.  “So, are you done, then?”  I said.

“No… no… no,” Kylie said.  “We need to put this little number through its paces.  Put a hand on your hip and one knee forward.”

“What?”  I said.

“Like this,” Nicole said, putting a hand on her hip and then with her feet almost on top of each other, putting one knee forward.  It was a sexy pose women did that I had lusted over many times.  Seeing Nicole standing like that made the man in me feel manliness surge through me.  I felt embarrassed, but I knew I would not win any argument.  I put a hand on my wide, round hip, put one knee forward.

“Nice,” Kylie said.  “Now smile and toss your hair.”

“Seriously?”

I saw the other women in the store were watching us now.  Most were young and pretty, but there were also some older women as well, all wrinkles and blue hair.  I hated the idea of acting all girly in front of them, but I just wanted to get this over with so I smiled and tossed my hair while Kylie snapped more pictures.

“She’s so pretty,” I heard one of the observers say.  She was leggy and tall, but kind of flat chested.  I felt a little tingle of pride to hear her admiring me.

“Her skin  glows,” an older woman said.

“And those dimples!”

I had meant to run back to the dressing room, but I hesitated, holding my pose, the smile on my face growing brighter as I reveled in their admiration.  “Now,” Taylor said, “bury your hands in your hair, arch your back and rock your hips back…” She demonstrated and instantly I recognized one of my favorite sexy poses.  They didn’t even have to ask me to smile.  I couldn’t wait to do this pose and see how all the women would react.  I buried my hands in my thick blonde hair, lifting it, arching my back and throwing my hips back…. I heard murmurs of approval from the older ladies, and even some catty, jealous little comments from the girls.

It thrilled me, and I let myself glance over at them, instantly assessing the ways in which I was prettier— I had better tits, a sexier ass, better skin… I plucked at my shoulder strap, letting it slide down off my shoulder, and thrust my hip out to the side.  That’s right, I thought.  Drink it in because I am way prettier than…

My mouth dropped open as I realized what I had been feeling — this was not me.  Not me at all.  I was totally comparing myself to these women and getting all full of myself because I was a hotter girl?  “What?”  I said, turning to Kylie.

“Remember how I told you we were changing your brain, sweetie?”

“You now totally compare yourself to hot women, and you love being prettier than them,” Taylor whispered in my ear.

“I can’t believe you did this to me,” I said, humiliated.  “You made me want to have a hotter bod than any girl?  I’m supposed to want their bodies.”

“Well, you kind of have their bodies now, babe,” Nicole said, giving me a little pat on my big, plump ass.  “Now go change.  I can’t wait to see you showing off in that polka dot bikini!”

It went on like that as I tried on different suits, struggling with all my conflicting emotions— shame, embarrassment, but at the same time this new pride in my hourglass figure, at how sexy I looked.  I wanted and needed women to envy me, and even though I knew this was some insane thing that had been imposed on me by these girls, at the same time I loved it.

The girls finally settled on three different bikinis for me.  I was not given a vote, and even when I attempted to talk them into letting me buy a one-piece, they just laughed.  We went back out into the steamy, sultry Miami night.  Some of the night flowers had opened, adding their sweet aroma to the salty sea air, and the girls decided we should walk along the beach before heading in for the night.  The moon was nearing full, and it hovered over the undulating waves, throwing its light against the water.  As we walked, I felt the eyes of guys all over my body.  Some of them brazenly looked me up and down as they walked past, and I could feel them mentally undressing me.  My friends were getting plenty of attention as well.  “These guys are so gross!”  I finally said.  Glancing to the side, I saw a Latina girl.  She’s got nice skin, I thought, but I have a sweeter ass… stop it!  I thought to myself.  Stop comparing yourself to these other girls— I mean girls.

“Not used to being on the receiving end of the male gaze, honey?” Taylor said, bumping me with her hip.

“You were just as bad,” Nicole said.  “The first time I met you, you almost burned a hole in my pants.”

“Not true! I was never so obvious about it.”

“Guys are guys,” Kylie said.  “As you will be finding out.  Better get used to it, honey, because you're just a pretty little bunny and these boys are sharks!”

“They better not try anything with me,” I said.  “They’ll find out this bunny has teeth!”

The girls all laughed.  “What?” I said.

“You just sound so cute when you try and talk tough!”  Taylor said, and they all laughed. As I stewed, I thought— I really have the cutest laugh of any of us….

Finally, we decided to call it a night.  The girls assured me they had a full day of female fun and games planned for tomorrow, starting with breakfast and sunbathing on the beach, so they hugged me and kissed and told me to get my beauty sleep.  It felt so strange to hug them now, feeling my big, soft breasts pressing into theirs. I was used to feeling soft on hard, my pecs against their pillows. It was soft against flat, and I’d taken pleasure in being hard, angular. Now I felt what they felt, the soft yielding weight of my breasts spreading, shifting, finding space in and around the soft yielding presence of their breasts, girl to girl, more of an equal exchange of feminine energy.   It made me feel tingly and weird.  When I went to get ready for bed, I discovered they had switched out my suitcase for one filled with girl clothes.  Whatever, I thought, putting on the little silk nightgown they’d brought for me.  It was shimmery silk and only came down to the tops of my thighs, spaghetti straps over my shoulders.  The silk felt cool against my soft, smooth skin, and I couldn’t help but giggle at how luxurious if felt.  I plucked at my little shoulder straps— they felt so good after having bra straps digging into my shoulders, and I actually felt a shiver pass through me as the silk slid across my big, puffy nipples and over the crest of my bottom.  My whole body was tingling with pleasure, I even thought that maybe once I got back to being a guy I would keep my skin smooth because it felt sooooo good.

I climbed into bed, tried to sleep on my stomach and realized— boobs.  I lay on my back, but then my breasts felt heavy, like they were making it hard to breath, and I was also weirded out looking down and seeing those two round mounds rising and falling with each breath.  So, I finally rolled onto my side, one pillow under my head while I hugged another one to my body to give my boobs so extra support, and I closed my eyes and prayed this had all been a dream and that when I woke up in the morning I would be a guy again.

Even if that meant the other girls would be cuter than me.

CHAPTER 5

“Just hold your hair up and stand still,” Kylie said as she tried to tie my bikini top on for me.  I had struggled with it for what seemed like forever before finally texting her and asking her to help.  I had decided to wear the polka dot bikini-- the bottom was a little triangle of fabric with blue polka dots and some string, while the top featured two soft little-- and I do mean little-- cups and some string-- mostly because it was the least sexy of the ones the girls had chosen for me, which was not saying much as they were all super sexy.

“Done,” Kylie said.

The little cups offered more coverage, but I still felt like I was hanging out all over the place, and it felt odd, again, to have the fabric of my bottoms tight against the empty space between my legs. Unable to resist my newly competitive need to be the cutest girl in the room, I went to the full length mirror on the bathroom door and looked myself over, my stomach doing flips as I drank in my long, tone legs, wide, soft hips, tiny waist and then my firm, womanly breasts.  The bikini top lifted my breasts and pressed them together, creating lovely crescents of soft flesh around an enticing shadowy canyon of cleavage.  I felt a strange sense of pride in how deep my cleavage was, how perfectly shaped were my breasts, and the man in me at the same time felt himself getting hot as I continued to admire myself.  Something deep inside me, the man I’d been, was screaming. No. Don’t. I knew I shouldn’t like being pretty, being a hot ass female, but I couldn’t help myself. My blonde hair framed my pretty face, and my big eyes sparkled. My skin was perfect. I put a hand on my hip and did the little knee lift the girls had taught me.

“Yes,” Kylie said, appearing in the mirror over my shoulder. “You are gorgeous.”

I giggled.  “I don’t want to be gorgeous,” I lied.

“Of course you do,” Kylie said.  “And you are in for another interesting change to your personality today.  Now, let’s hit the beach!”

We met Nicole and Taylor in the hall, all giggly and gushing over each other’s suits, how cute they looked, how cute I looked. “There’s just no man left in there at all,” Nicole said, shaking her head.

“Hey!”

“You are 100% superfine female,” Kylie said.  “Just admit it.  I mean, what guy would ever go out in public wearing bikini bottoms?”

“I bet you never thought you’d ever be strutting around, boobs and but cheeks hanging out, did you?”  Taylor said.

“Come on,” I said, fighting the urge to throw my arms across my boobs. “You made me like this!”

“I don’t know,” Nicole said. “I think maybe Sofia was in there the whole time just dying to get out!”

The hot sand burned my feet as we all walked out onto the wide, powdery white sand beach, the stunning blue ocean before us melting into a perfectly clear sky.  Walking still felt all wrong.  My legs felt too long, and set too wide apart.  My wide, rounded hips swayed with every step no matter how much I tried to stop them, and I could feel the swelling of my butt as it wiggled behind me. My puny little arms kept bumping into my hips as I walked, so I adjusted, holding them a little out to the side, turning out my wrists, which made me walk in an even more feminine manner. My chest swiveled in counterpoint to my hips, the mass of my breasts moving side to side in a way I had never noticed my formerly flat, hard chest doing.  We went to the cabana and Nicole rented chairs and an umbrella for us.  I started to pick up on the chairs, surprised at how heavy it seemed, gasping prettily as I struggled with what would have once been nothing for me to carry.

“Miss,” the young guy manning the cabana said, taking the chair from me.  “We’ll take care of that.  You girls just pick out your spot, and we’ll bring them right over.”

“I can do it,” I objected. He was standing close, at least a head taller than me, and I felt small and soft, and I didn’t like that feeling, but Nicole grabbed my hand and pulled me away.

“Thank you,” she said, and then as we walked down toward the water, she whispered, “I think he likes you.”

“Gross!”  I said.

He and some other young guys brought the chairs down to the sport we’d chosen, set them up and put the umbrella up as well.  Seeing their hard, muscular bodies made me all the more aware of how soft and curvy I had become, and I felt a rush of masculine shame to be around these other men wearing a bikini barely covering my soft little body. It was thick, corded arms laced with sinew versus my slender, soft little pipe stems, hard, steely chests versus soft, rounded swelling, square, powerful chins versus my little pointed chin and broad, powerful shoulders versus my narrow, rounded little cuties.  I crossed my arms over my breasts and looked away, the breeze tossing my long blonde hair.  It was strange to feel it swishing across my bare back, tickling my smooth skin, floating around my face and— constantly— getting into my eyes.

I guess because I was thinking about my hair, I found myself checking out the other females who were out on the beach.  I kind of felt sorry for the girls who weren’t blonde, and then realized what I was doing and vowed I would find some way to control my thoughts and stop comparing myself to all these other women.  I’m not a girl, I reminded myself.  And these girls are not my competition!

Once the chairs were all set up, we sprayed each other with suntan lotion, and I self-consciously rubbed it into my shoulders and then over and between my swaying breasts, rubbing the lotion along my sternum, then onto the rise of my bountiful breasts, feeling them all squishy and tender..  It sent weird tingles through my body to feel my hands on my girls, and I tried to hide it from the other girls, who were busy making sure their skin was covered as well.  When I sat on my beach chair, it felt so strange to feel my butt kind of spread out underneath me, making my thighs and butt look and feel even bigger..  I never had so much back there, and I wiggled trying to get comfortable.  Then, when I went to rub suntan lotion onto my legs, I noticed a deep, sexy crease where my leg met my hip.  “Look at this,” I said, getting the other girls’ attention. “Sexy,” Taylor said.

“Nice thigh brow, slut,” Nicole said.

A thousand pictures flashed through my mind of hot women I had checked out on the internet, my male brain flickering with pleasure at the sight of that sexy crease on all these beautiful bombshells.  It was just another moment for me to realize I’d become my own porn goddess.

I rubbed the lotion into my long legs, working the coconut oil into my soft, hairless skin.  My thighs felt almost too fat , but as I looked at my legs glistening in the sun, my eyes told me they were perfect.

“Uh, oh,” I said as I settled back, feeling my breasts heavy against my chest.  “I forgot my sunglasses.”

“Got you covered, girl,” Taylor said, handing me a pair of oversized, Elizabeth Taylors.

I slipped them on.  “Now what?”

“We luxuriate in the sun and check out the cute guys,” Kylie said.

“I’m not into guys,” I said.

“Not yet,” Nicole said, giggling.

“Don’t make me into dudes,” I said, terrified at the thought I was going to start liking guys.  “That’s not fair.”

“Hush,” Kylie said.  “Your one of the girls now.”

“Please,” I said. “Anything else.”

Nicole handed me a copy of Vogue.  “Read.”

I looked over the tops of my glasses at her, holding the magazine with the tips of my fingers like it was radioactive.  “Seriously?”

“Yes, Sofia.  Seriously.”

I dropped the magazine onto the sand next to my chair and laid back, closing my eyes.  “I’m good.”

The girls started chatting as we lay in the sun.  The beach started to fill up.  At some point, the others rolled over, so I did as well.  Laying on my stomach, my breasts pooled under me almost like a pillow, and I rolled side to side, struggling to accept the lack of a bulge from my groin, the lack of my dick pressing against the chair, but just an unnerving sense of-- emptiness.  I looked down to see the issue of Vogue there on the hot sand.  There was something on the cover about Meghan Markle, and my heart fluttered.  What’s going on with her?  I wondered, idly flipping open the magazine and finding the article about her and Archie and Prince William settling in Canada.  As I got absorbed into the story—  the British royalty were fascinating!—  I could feel the heat of the sun on my back, and my big, soft butt.  It felt good, and I was glad my thong would leave barely any tan lines.  I could feel little droplets of sweat beading on my smooth skin, and it pleased me to know I looked sexy as hell.  Any girls walking by would be so jealous!

“The tabloids are just the worst,” I said as I read.  “I can’t believe how they treated Meghan.”

I heard a little giggle, and Taylor said, “It’s so disgusting.”

“She’s so brave,” I said.  “And what an amazing journey!  She became a princess.  Who does that?”

The girls all giggled.

“What?” I said.

“I never knew you were so into women’s magazines,” Taylor said.

“I’m not… it’s just…”. I suddenly realized what had happened, “Ugh!” I said, closing the magazine in disgust.  “I can’t believe you!”

“Don’t stop reading on our account,” Nicole said.  “There’s a great article in there on how to know when a guy is cheating on you.”

I closed my eyes.  “I’m good.”  And yet, I felt my heart flutter.  I did want to know how women thought, didn’t I?  And, wasn’t this something I could talk to the girls about?  But, no. I was not going to let them win.  I knew this was another change they had made in me, and I resolved to resist their little games.

We flipped back over.  I don’t even remember picking the magazine back up.  It was almost like being in a fugue state, and as I read I could help but burst out, “Guys are so stupid!  How can they not realize smelling like another girl’s perfume is such a giveaway?”

The girls all laughed.  “I thought you weren’t interested?”  Nicole said.

“You know I can’t help myself,” I said, not even bothering to fight it as I finished the article on cheating guys and began to read their tips for cute summer looks.  “But this doesn’t make me any less of a guy!”

“No, but your boobs do,” Kylie said.

“Stop,” I said.

Once more, I was answered with giggles.

“Let’s take a swim,” Kylie said, sometime later.  “I’m hot.”

“Me, too,” Taylor said.

I put my magazine down and got up, stopping to adjust my bikini bottoms, then my bikini straps.  For such tiny little pieces of clothing, they sure managed to shift around a lot.  As I wiggled my shoulders and lifted one of my breasts to fit it back into my bikini, I felt strange, like someone was watching me.  Looking to the right, I saw an old, fat bald guy staring at me, his eyes all hard and pervy.  It made me feel gross to have a man ogle me like that, just blatantly stare at my body, and I yelled, “Jerk!”

The guy laughed, and the girls all moved around me and ushered me towards the water.  “That guy was staring right at me!”  I said, wanting to go back and punch him.

“Get used to it,” Kylie said.

“It’s going to be happening all weekend long,” Nicole agreed.

“What?  But it’s so—  I mean…”

“It’s just part of being a hot young woman,” Kylie said.

“Uh!”  I said, tossing my hair.  Before I could more fully express my rage, I felt the cool ocean water wash over my feet, sending a tingle up my spine, and then we were all running, the girls laughing, as we into the surf, the water rising up my thighs and then all of us squealing as a big wave crashed into us, and I found myself surrounded by frothy ocean waves, swimming out away from the beach along with the others.  Once we got past the crashing surf, we found a smooth spot of water and I kicked my legs, keeping afloat even as my head began to spin from the new and insane sensations I felt as my nipples grew hard, like little erasers, poking against the thin martial of my top and sending thrilling chills through my body.  They almost felt like little erections, and I could help but reach up and cover them with my palms, filling the hard little points cupped in my soft hands.  I squeaked in surprise as the weird female surge of pleasure.

“You okay?”  Kylie asked, shaking out her wet hair.

“My… um…. My chest feels… weird?”  I said, blushing.

More giggles from the girls.  “Such a Sofia,” Nicole said.

Fascinated at what I was experiencing, I squeezed my breasts, then pinched my nipples between my thumb and index finger, making me clamp my legs together and gasp as I sank briefly under the waves, kicking myself back up.  “Oh, my God,” I said.

“Stop feeling yourself up!” Taylor said.  “People are watching.”

“What?”  I yanked my hands away from my throbbing nipples, though it took an effort of will.  “Are you always.. our your bodies always so… um… sensitive?”

“You’ll get used to it,” Kylie said.  “Now, take a couple deep breaths and try to calm yourself!”

I did as she suggested.  I was used to wearing trunks as a guy, so I became acutely aware of the feeling of the cool ocean water swirling around my bare thighs, right up to the gap between my legs.  And, as the waves gently rolled, bobbing us up and down, I could feel once more how my whole body was so much more bouncy and jiggle now, as my breasts and booty rose and fell with the movement of the waves. I was used to having an almost protective coating of hair on my skin, which I was now realizing had served to reduce my tactile awareness.  In other words, my skin seemed far more sensitive and reactive to every sensation, and with my whole body now hairless it seemed like I felt every swirl and draft in the cool water.  It was odd to find myself feeling so much more alive now that there was nothing between my soft skin and the world.

My fascination with all the new feelings I was experiencing as a female was broken, however, when Nicole suddenly splashed me.  “Hey!”  I said, splashing her back, accident spraying Kylie in the process, who then splashed me, and then we were all splashing each other, laughing and giggling as silvery water flashed all around us.

Then, as if we’d all heard some invisible whistle, we all started swimming toward the shore, still giggling.  “Last one to shore is a slutty slut!”  Kylie called out as she started breast stroking.  My competitive streak came alive.  I had been a competitive swimmer in high school!  But, as we all swam out hardest, I found myself falling behind the other girls. My legs were still pretty strong, but I was shorter, and my body felt weird, like there was a lot of drag from my chest, and as I climbed out of the water and made my way onto the beach, feeling the water sluice down the insides of my thighs, the girls were all laughing.  “Slut!  Slut!”  They called.

“Stop it!” I said.  They were all glistening, the ocean water beading on their round little shoulders, and I felt that man I had been getting totally turned on, even as I glanced at my own little shoulder and saw the beads there as well, and on the tops of my breasts.  I could feel the other women on the beach, which was much more crowded now, checking me out, so when I realized one of the bikini straps had slid off my shoulder I just left it down.  I felt so sexy, and hot, and I wanted all the girls to be jealous of me.

No.  No, no!  I’m a guy, I remembered, and I was reminded as I now became aware of all the guys who were checking us out, checking me out, letting their eyes play up and down my soft curves.  I hooked a thumb under my wayward strap and then pulled it up, feeling it snap against my shoulder as it got back in place.  My nipples were still hard, still poking at the top of my bikini, but I resisted the urge to cross my arms over my chest.  I knew the other girls would think I was weird if I did, so  I ignored the hungry eyes of the men.  I was going to have to get used to it— at least as long as I was a woman.

We made our way back to our beach chairs, and I put my sunglasses back on, glad to hide behind them as I tried to forget all the guys staring at me.  We lay back, occasional giggles erupting as we remember our little splash fight. It was the first time I had really felt like I was just one of the girls, and the realization warmed me, even as the sun warmed my wet skin.  My damp hair was sticking to my shoulders and the tops of my breasts, so I pulled it back.  “Do you have any more magazines?” I asked, as I settled into my chair.

“Such a Sofia,” Nicole murmured as she dug into her beach bag and handed me an issue of Elle.

“Ohhhh!”  I said as I looked over the pretty girl on the cover, thinking I had prettier eyes.  “More Meghan!”

My girlfriends all giggled, and I just shrugged and eagerly turned the pages.

CHAPTER six

After sunbathing the rest of the morning, chatting about this and that, the girls all telling stories that went nowhere and didn’t really have an ending, Kylie used the hotel app to order lunch, which consisted of mango smoothies.  I hid my contempt for the girly food, and sipped mine, annoyed at both the lack of protein as well as how sickly sweet it was.    I found myself idly checking out the other women, feeling threatened by a few who were sooo pretty, then struggled to stop myself, instead trying to think about what it would be like to sleep with them—  if I was still a guy.  My thoughts would always get confused, though, as I would start off picturing myself as a dude, walking up to them, putting my hand on their chin and tilting their heads back…. And then I would find myself fantasizing about how good it would be to press my soft breasts into theirs, to feel my long, bare thighs entwined with theirs, to shudder as they untied my bikini top and let my…

Stop!  I forced myself to see myself as a man again, and it went like that for awhile, me imagining myself being a man, only to find myself sucking on some hot girl’s thumb as she slid her hands down onto my plump rear and. NO! Finally, I forced myself back to my Elle magazine, admiring an ad for a pearly pink lipstick, thinking my mouth would look so sweet and kissable in that shade.

“Another change will be coming soon,” Kylie suddenly announced, breaking my reverie.

“What?”  I said, suddenly afraid.

Before she could answer, a couple guys ran up to us.  “Ladies,” one of them said.  “Me and my friends were wondering if you could help us out?”

“We could really use your help,” the other one said.

Oh, GOD, I thought. Now for the come on.  Men!

“Oh, and what could you possibly need from us?” Taylor said.

“We really want to get a game of volleyball going,” the first one said.  “And we need more people.”

“Come on,” the other one added.  “We’ll go easy on you.”

“As if--” I started to say, but Taylor cut me off.

“Let’s play volleyball!”  She shouted.  “And we’ll go easy on you, cutie!”

Before I could say anything, the other three girls were out of the chairs, running toward the volleyball net the resort had set up on a flat part of the beach.  I jumped up and ran after them, my boobs bouncing wildly and my hips gyrating, as I stuck one arm out to the side trying to stop my whole body from swaying and jiggling.  I heard some guy call out, “Damn!”  I rolled my eyes, because I knew I was giving them all a Baywatch moment— and I was sexy as hell

As I ran along behind the group, I found myself taking in the men’s broad shoulders, the V shape of their backs, and their strong little butts… I idly wondered what it would be like if one of them kissed me and I got to touch that..

Stop!  Gross!  Ugh.  I pushed those thoughts out of my mind as I caught up with the rest at the volleyball court, keeping my eyes averted from those annoyingboys.

Taylor and Nicole formed one team with some of the boys, Kylie and I the other. I half expected this to be a display of girly silliness, but I was soon disabused of that notion.  Nicole served, and Kylie popped the ball up and toward the net.  I put my hands together, and immediately felt my breasts squeeze  between my arms, which threw me off, but I’d always been a good volleyball player, so I shook it off.  In my male form, I would have tried to jump up and spike the ball, but I was too short now, so instead I just gave it a little punch, sending it arcing over the net.

Which is when I heard a roar like a ferocious tigress was about to rip me in half, and a shadow seemed to rise over me.  Looking up, I saw Taylor rising into the air on the other side of the net, her teeth barred, hair flying , the muscles on her arms tense and seemingly carved into her skin as she rose and rose, then brought her arm slicing through the air like a tomahawk chop, spiking the ball right at me.  To my shame, I screamed and covered my head with my arms.  The ball slammed into the sand at my feet, and I jumped away like it might bite me.  “In your face!” Taylor shouted, she and Nicole high-fiving.

“Come on,” Kylie said.  “Are you kidding me?”

“You made me girly!”  I said.  “Don’t blame me.”

“We didn’t make you girly.  We just made you love women’s magazines.”

“What?  Really?  So, you mean….?  That was all me?”

“Man up!” Kylie shouted.

The game got intense, with both sides diving to save balls, pounding over-hand serves over the net with all kinds of velocity and spin, Kylie and Taylor going to the net, blocking and spiking.  Soon, my lithe little body was slick with sweat, and when I fell backwards into the sand after saving a low shot, I got up to find my butt cheeks coated in sand.  I reached back and dusted the sand off with my hands, intent on the game, which was down to match point.

“Nice ass,” Francois, one of the guys on my team, said from behind me.

I turned, annoyed planning to tell him off-- but, oh my god.  Those green eyes. Instead of a scathing put down, I just giggled and looked away, curling my hair behind my ear.  My heart was fluttering like crazy!

The guy and his friends were all Ken dolls— tall, with chiseled features and hard, muscular bodies that didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat.  They started passing out little compliments, half put downs, and the other girls started to get all kitteny and sweet-- when not actually playing the game.

My mouth dropped open and I felt myself seething with rage.  They were totally getting all girly and flirty with these gross guys!  It was supposed to be just the girls!  And they were just begging for all the attention while the guys were ignoring me and--

I felt a slap on my ass.  I looked up to see green eyes.  Once more, any anger I had evaporated, and I felt my skin blush. “Nice serve,” he said.

Once more, I giggled like a crazy person. “Thanks,” I said, my voice even higher and softer than normal. My eyes drifted to his lips.  They were big and plump, almost like girl lips, and I knew he must be an incredible kisser--

STOP!  I screamed in my mind.  What the hell! And yet, as I walked back to the line to serve again, I put a little extra wiggle in my walk.  I just don’t want the other girls getting all the attention, I told myself.  It’s not like I really think he’d get cute or anything.

I felt super self conscious at the way my body jiggled as I played, how lifting my arms to hit the ball forced me into kind of sexy poses.  And these guys were not like the creeper at all, staring while pretending not to stare.  They openly appreciated our bodies, showering us all with compliments about how hot we were, what fine bitches.  Bitches!

Although Kylie, Taylor and Nicole continued to compete— I think they wanted the guys to see how athletic they were— they also got very flirty, giggling and smiling, letting the brush the sand off their backs.

I followed their lead, getting extra feminine, letting my already little voice rise even higher, giggling constantly. When I hit the ball I would turn it into a prance, kicking myself in the butt and making a little chirpy noise.  I sucked in my cheeks when I smiled to make my dimples deeper, and I started to play with my hair, standing with a hip out to the side.  When I was in the front of the line, I even leaned forward and stuck my butt out, wiggling it, looking back over my shoulder and smiling.

Francios warm to me more and more.  First, he started high-fiving me, then he would fun his hand over my shoulder after a good shot. I tossed challenging glances at the other girls, letting them know I was hot, and I was winning over this hapless male.  At one lull in the action, I stood close to him, put a hand on his hard, flat chest and said in my best helpless little girl voice, “Would you retie my top?  I’m worried it might come off?”

“Why would that be a problem?”  He said, brushing my hair back from my face. I just giggled and shrugged, giving him a thrill at the sight of my breasts swaying.  He went around behind me and I felt the cups on my top pull tight as he undid the strings, pulled on them and then tied them again.  He let his hand slide down to the small of my back, and I knew I had him.  I looked back over my little round shoulder and smiled a bright smile full of promises. “You’re my hero,” I said.

His hand slid down and he cupped my ass cheek, giving it a squeeze.  What the hell?  The move shocked me, but I didn’t want to lose my prey, so I just giggled and pranced away, looking over at the other girls with a smile of triumph.  They were huddled close together, whispering and smiling those same smirky smiles they’d had plastered on their faces this whole trip, and I stopped, raising my palms in a “what?”  gesture. Francois was the hottest guy, and I’d totally gotten him wrapped around my little finger, so what was so…

My mouth dropped open, and as the shock of what I had been doing washed over me. The girls saw the realization and they walked toward me, giggling.  “I totally flirted with a guy,” I whispered.  Hugs and kisses.  “You were great,” Taylor said.

“I think he really likes you?”

“What did you do to me?”  I whispered, glancing over at Josh and the guys, who we’re talking while watching us.  “Did you make me want to flirt with boys?”

“Um, we made you like guys,” Nicole said.

“As in, you dig cock now,” Taylor said.

“No!  No!  You can’t-- I can’t like dick! I refuse.  I refuse to like men.”

“ You worship dick,” Kylie said. “It probably goes back to your daddy issues.”

“I don’t have daddy issues…”. I said.

“You would if he saw you shaking your ass at Francios,, girl,” Taylor said, giggling.

The guys came back over.    “There’s going to be a champagne dinner tonight in the Havana Room,” John said, once more running his hands through my hair in a very possessive, alpha kind of way.  I hated it, but due to my new need to have men lust over me, I thanked him with my prettiest smile, looking up at him, letting me eyes sparkle with admiration.  “You girls should come.”

“We should come?” Kylie said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll make sure you come,” Bradley, her guy, said.

We girls all giggled.

Josh cupped my cheek, looked down at me and said, “You’re pretty good at volleyball— for a little shorty.”  And with that he walked away.

“Not bad for a shorty?”  I spat, staring daggers at his back.

“He’s negging you,” Taylor said. “It means he likes you.”

“How is putting me down supposed to let me know he likes me?”

“It’s just something guys do,” Kylie said.  “You’ll get used to it.”

Our beach day done, as we walked back to the hotel I put an extra wiggle in my walk, letting my big hips sway side to side.  I now desperately need everyone— men and women— to see how hot I was, to appreciate my lovely figure, glowing skin…. And to be outside was to be performing. I hated myself for it a little bit, and my the man in me was revolted to be so— obsessed— with putting myself on display, but then I heard a woman say, “She has the ass of a goddess,” and my whole body flushed with pleasure, and the man I’d been was drowned out as the woman they were making of me thought, drink it in, bitch!

The other girls saw me kind of toss my hair and put my nose in the air in response to the comment.  “She’s coming along nicely,” Nicole said.

“Just wait till the next change,” Kylie said.

“I can fight the changes,” I said. “Willpower.  That’s why I don’t even have any interest in guys!”

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Taylor said.

“I think he totally wants us to make him like giving blowjobs,” Kylie agreed.

“I do not!”  I said, putting a little extra wiggle in my shoulders as a group of guys walked past, and having all of their eyes bulge as they drooled over my awesome rack.  “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“You are such a little slut!” Nicole giggled.

“No I am not,” I said.

“Yet,” Kylie said.  “Not.  Yet.”

CHAPTER Seven

“You want me to wear this?”  I said.

Kylie was holding a hanger off which hung what looked like a black tuxedo.

“Yeah.  We thought we’d give you a break,” Nicole said.  “You know, from all the girly stuff.”

The suit looked— boring.  Square.  Dull.  I should be glad, I thought as I touched the fabric.  The Champagne Party was a dress up affair— meaning the women would all be wearing skimpy cocktail dresses, so a suit would save me from that.  Of course, I wouldn’t be able to get as much attention, but there seemed to be something more to why this suit just seemed wrong.  I couldn’t quite understand it, but I almost felt like if I wore the suit it would be-- wrong, somehow.  What’s this all about?

“You don’t like it?” Kylie said.

‘I do..” I said.

“Well,” Taylor said from the closet. “It’s either the suit or this.”  She stepped out of the closet with a little black dress. My heart raced and my mouth went dry. “I LOVE it,” I burst out, unable to stop myself.  It was— adorable, sexy, feminine …

“But you’d have to wear it with these,” Kylie said, holding up a pair of black pumps with golden stiletto heels.

I gasped, putting a hand on the dresser, trying to steady myself.  “I have never seen such gorgeous shoes!” I squealed.  ‘They are so pretty!  I want to wear them!  I need to wear them!”

“But, doll, are you really willing to wear these underneath?” Nicole said, holding up a black lace bra and panty set with red straps.  Once more, I felt a wave of pure joy wash over me at the sight of the sexy clothes, and my heart raced. “Oh, my God!  These —- everything is—  why wouldn’t I want to wear this outfit? It’s so…. Feminine and sexy!”

The girls all burst out laughing, full on belly laughs.  “What?”  I said.

“Um, listen to yourself.  You just about had an orgasm looking at sexy clothes!”

“Oh!”  I said, suddenly realizing that I’d been going all crazy over clothes— just like some airhead chick.  “I don’t… Oh.  Another change?”  I said. “You made me like women’s clothes?  You turned me into a crossdresser!”

“Yeah. You’re pretty much obsessed with fashion now,” Kylie said.

“Women’s fashion,” Taylor added.

“I hadn’t noticed,” I said.  “You guys,” I said, shaking my head.  “Well, guess what?  The jokes on you.  I’m going to wear the suit.” I looked between the suit and the dress.  I would force myself to wear the suit.  It was what I had to do to save whatever was left of my identity.

“No, you’re not,” Kylie said.

“I am,” I said. “And I don’t care if no one checks me out all night.”  I pointed to my brain.  “I am still a guy, and I am in control.”

“That’s a shame,” Kylie said.  “Because that means you won’t get to carry this.”  There was a bag on the bed.   She reached in and lifted out the most adorable clutch purse I had ever seen.  “I’ll just take this back, I guess.”

“Don’t you dare!”  I shrieked, grabbing the purse from her and hugging it to my chest. “I love it!  I want it!  I need it!”

The girls all fell onto the bed, laughing, holding their stomachs.

I slipped the purse strap over my shoulder and hugged the purse to my side.  “Don’t listen to them,” I said to my new purse.  “You complete me.” Oh, well.  Battle lost.  I mean, I would match a purse with a tuxedo.  Plus, looking at that little dress, I knew the sight of me would make all the guys drool.

“Why is this taking so long?” I said as I sat, with my eyes closed.  Kylie was blending eyeshadow on my lids while Nicole was finally fulfilling her wish and braiding my hair.

“Hush!”  Kylie said.  “Just sit still.”

“Couldn’t you at least have made me love makeup as much as I love dresses now?”

“We thought it would be more fun for now if you kind of hated it,” Kylie admitted.  I could feel her using her finger now at the corner of my eyes. “But don’t worry.  You’ll be obsessed with makeup soon! For now, hate on!”

I did hate it.  It violated every masculine code I’d ever embraced, and I felt like I was being completely and totally emasculated with every dusting of blush, with every flick of the mascara wand.  I’d offered some token resistance, but the girls had insisted, and besides, my newfound need to be a hottie had won out over my male need to be— male.

“Okay, you can open your eyes!” Kylie said.

I did, and I gasped.  I had a gorgeous face— they’d made me pretty.  But now it was like everything that made this face beautiful had been multiplied by ten— my lips were not fuller and more kissable, and with my mascara and smokey eyeshadow my eyes seemed bigger and more sparkly than ever.  The diamond dust foundation gave my skin a sparkly glow, and my high cheekbones popped thanks to a light dusting of blush on my cheeks.  My eyebrows were on point, too, plucked and darkened.  I wasn’t looking at my makeup the way a woman might, but I was looking at my face as a man and thinking I would really like to kiss this face.  As I admired how pretty my makeup looked, the world seemed to tilt for a second, and my whole attitude toward makeup shifted. Concealer! What was a girl to do without it?  And whoever invented diamond dust foundation?  Nobel prize.  It made a girl sparkle!  Enough said! Oh!  The colors!  The pretty smells!  Adore!  I thought, realizing the girls had made the change. I couldn’t even imagine leaving the house without at least some primer and eyeliner now!

Nicole had given me what she called halo braids, with tight braids that ran along the sides of my head.  They were perfect and pretty, and the tight pulled away hairstyle just made my face seem all the more feminine, while also leaving my long, graceful neck and sext shoulders visible.  “Wow,” I said, smiling at them in the mirror.  “You guys did an amazing job.”

It was strange to feel all that makeup on my face. I was aware of the foundation, and with my lashes so wet and thick I could actually see them on the edge of my vision.  My lipstick was also sticky, and my lips kind of stuck together a little when I tried to open them.  Well, it was only for one night.  I was turning my head side to side, admiring the way the lights glinted on my lips and hair.  “Okay.  Enough admiring yourself,” Kylie said. “Time to get into that sexy little black dress!”

“My black dress!”  I squealed, jumping to my feet, clapping.  I was like a kid on Christmas, so excited to put on all my pretty clothes.  The girls were all laughing at me.  I knew I should be fighting this, be more of a man, but for now I just didn’t care!

I stepped carefully into the dress, and pulled it up, slipping the spaghetti straps over my slender shoulders. Dresses were so clearly female, and this one was all woman.  What little fabric there was hugged my slender waist and squeezed my round hips and ass. The hem came down only to mid-thigh, and I felt the air swirling around my bare legs.  There was something dangerous in that high hemline, the feeling that it was so close to my panties, that there was so little standing between me and a man. The slender little straps left my shoulders bare, and I felt the cool air across them, across the cleavage swelling from my plunging neckline. This dress was made to enhance every soft curve of this new body, and standing there in front of the girls I felt so pretty and yet so humiliated.  I was a man!  And yet-- here I was in a tiny little dress, admiring the way my ass looked in it.  Looking in the mirror, I also saw the smooth, flat front of my dress.  No bulge. Once more, I was reminded of the ultimate change I’d experienced.

All dressed up, I stood in front of the mirror admiring the way the light shone on my round little shoulders.  The girls were taking pictures of me with their phones, gushing over how hot I looked.  I put a hand on my hip and did the knee lift without even being prompted.  Kylie had loaned me a tennis bracelet, and I loved the way it sparkled against my dainty wrist.  Pleased with how pretty I looked, I then turned smoothly in my heels and looked over my shoulder at my bare back.  “Does my back look sexy?”  I asked

“Everything looks sexy!”  They cried out in unison.  Taylor, Kylie and Nicole had all gotten dolled up as well, and we were, I was sure, the hottest foursome in the whole state of Florida, all of us glossy and curvy and draped in shimmering dresses, perched on the cutest heels you ever saw.

“Now, time to stop admiring yourself girly, and go!” Kylie said.

I reluctantly dragged myself away from the mirror, slipping the strap of my purse over my shoulder.  It really did complete me.  As we rode the elevator down, I started to think about the fact that Josh would be at the party, and he was probably going to be hitting on me.  “Advice?”  I said.

“What ya need?”  Nicole said.

“How do I let a guy know I’m not interested without being…. Rude?”

“Oh, Sofia,” Kylie said.  “Why would you want to turn down a stud like Josh?”

“Because I am NOT into guys,” I said. “Even if I were, I wouldn’t let a guy do me.”

“You sure about that?” Taylor said.

“Uh, yeah, because once this is over and I go back to being a straight dude, it would be a little weird?”

The elevator doors wooshed open, and the girls all walked out.  “What am I supposed to do?”  Asked, following behind, my heels clicking on the marble floor.

“Figure it out,” Kylie said.  “Now, come on!”

I hurried as much as I could in my tight little dress, perched on my stilettos.   When we got to the double doors, two tall, young men pulled them open for us.  “Oh, my phone just buzzed,” I said. “You girls go on in.  I’ll be just a sec”

“Do you want us to wait?” Taylor said.

“Oh, I’m fine!”  I said.

The girls went in.  I waited, counting to ten in my head.  I saw the doormen looking at me curiously, even as they subtly checked me out.  I smiled.  “I just want to make a big entrance,” I said. “Solo.”

“Cute,” one of the guys said.

“I know,” I said, then, eager for a compliment, I said, “how do I look?”

“Like a goddess.”

I giggled and nodded.  They pulled open the doors.  The girls had gifted me with the ability to walk in heels, so I walked in as smooth and effortlessly as if I were floating in on a cloud.  I decided to go for haughty super model, so I raised my nose a little and glanced around the room as if I were unimpressed.  I could feel all eyes on me as I walked through the doors and into a clear space right in a beam of light, pausing to put a hand on my hip and raise my other arm to brush back one of the loose strands of hair that fluttered on either side of my face.  Men, women… everyone was checking me out, appreciating how hot I looked, and I paused, basking in the warm glow that filled me as I commanded the attention of everyone in the room.

Having paused just long enough, but wanting it to seem like I was not doing all of this on purpose, I pretended to look around the room, then spotted my crew gathered around a table near the bar and, tossing my hair, sashayed over to them.

“Wow, what an entrance,” Kylie said.

“Whatever do you mean?”  I asked, pretending to examine my glossy red nails.

“Please, princess.  Don’t even try it,” Taylor said.

“Um, I just got a call,” Nicole said in a buzzy, airhead voice. “So, like, you guys go in and let me diva it up, kay?”

“I don’t sound like that,” I said.

“Yet,”  Kylie said.

“Whatevs,” I said, sipping my champagne and glancing around the room.  “”Everyone is so well dressed!”  The room was pretty full of people, and everyone was well dressed— this room was full of money.  The sight of all the perfectly tailored suits and luxury brand dresses made my mouth dry.  “It’s, like, fashion umami,” I said.

The girls giggled.

“What?”  I said.

“You’re talking like a girl,” Taylor said.  “And not just a girl, but a girl."

“Omigod!” I said. “Not even!”  But having had them draw my attention to it, I heard it.  Not only was I using girl lingo, but I had started to speak in a feminine, sing-song manner.

Taylor caressed my arm.  “You are such a Sofia!”  She said.

I hated talking like a girl— especially among these women. I focused my energy, determined to talk like a man, trying to place my voice in my chest, to get rid of the feminine singsong.  “You can’t make me talk like a girl,” I said, concentrating on every word, sounding like a woman imitating a man.  My throat actually hurt from the strain, and I rolled my eyes and just gave in, singing, “Ow!  That hurt!”

As this was an elegant affair, they had an orchestra, which started playing big band music.  And, as we were hot, our table was soon surrounded by guys hitting on us.  I struggled in the crazy headspace they’d created for me, flirting with every guy, acting as sexy as I could, while also horrified when they started getting all gross and coming onto me.  I was used to being the pursuer, and it was strange now to just stand in one spot and have waves of dudes coming to me, trying to impress me, win me over.  I mean, guys could be gross and I definitely didn’t want to kiss any of them, you know?  The girls claimed I liked men now.  Not this girl! Not ever!  I didn’t care how tall and studly they were.

But, like, I did see how being a woman had its advantages.  I had to do all my work before the party, getting pretty, but once the party started it was all on the guys.  They all loved to show me with compliments, telling me how pretty I looked, which I loved, of course. One guy asked me if I was a model, and if I had been into guys I think I would have jumped him right there because it made me sooooo hot! When they started talking about their jobs or cars, I tuned them out, thinking about clothes and shoes, just nodding and smiling, laughing, making sure to keep my eyes bright and sparkly as if I was so impressed!  It totally worked to get me so many compliments!

Some of them were super handsy and aggressive, so I was learning as the night went on to shut them down right away.  A guy would stand close, put his hand on my hip, and I would giggle while moving his hand away and say, “You can look but you can’t touch!”  I even got my flirt down.  One guy asked me back to his room.  “It’s early,” I said. “And this girl likes to shop!”

“Those guys aren’t here,” I said at one point.  “Thank God.”

“They probably won’t come,” Taylor said.  “It’s just a mind game.  We’ll probably see them tomorrow.”

“What?  Really?  Jerks!”  I said.

“Guys being guys,” Nicole said, then turned to talk to another one.

The other girls had gone off periodically to dance with different guys, and they had begged me to join them, but one thing I did not do was dance.  For one thing, I always felt like a total spaz, and for another I kinda thought dancing was a girl thing.  Also, I mean, we all know its pretty close to sex, so there was no way I was going to dance with a guy.  For realz.

Until I did.

It all happened sort of all at once.  I was standing there looking up into this guy’s eyes as he talked about rock climbing or something.  Mostly, I was checking out his hella good hair, as well as the diamond stud in his ear.  It had to cost at least 5000 dollars, and I was just, like drooling over it.  Then, the orchestra suddenly started to play an orchestra version of Beyonce’s “Put a Ring on It.”  “Oh!”  I said, as my heart fluttered, and my whole body ached with the sudden need to get out there on the dance floor and bust a move.

The dude’s face lit up.  “You wanna dance?”  He said.

It was like asking me if I wanted a Juicy Couture handbag.  “Um, try and stop me!”  I said, shaking my hips to the beat.

The guy grabbed my hand and led me out onto the dance floor.

My so much beaten dudiness kicked in.  I was about to dance with a guy?  Stop!  Stop! I thought, but I was powerless.  This was Beyonce, and a girl just doesn’t not dance to Beyonce! Yet, when we reached the center of the dance floor, my old awkward insecurity overwhelmed me.  I left all arms and legs, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do.  I glanced at the other girls, thinking to copy them, but then the guy—  I so totally didn’t even know his name— slipped an arm around my waist and took my hand, ballroom dance style. He took total control, taking the lead, moving me around the dance floor.  I felt so small and powerless, and the bro I’d been was scared and wanted to run, but something new and stronger just— surrendered, letting this guy take control of me, and I just— well, I mean, I loved it?  Okay?

Plus, it was like he’d saved me, and this time when I looked up at him, I fluttered my lashes in a sign of feminine submission.  Why did I do that?  Why did I do that? My manliness self asked, but I knew and I glanced over to see Kylie watching me.  She gave me a little shrug and a wink.  They made me submissive?  I realized. Bitches!

Just then, all my conflicted thoughts were interrupted when the guy dipped me.  Feeling myself falling backwards, his strong arm holding me so effortlessly, I felt light as a feather, so small and so safe, and my whole body fluttered as he then lifted me and spun me before gathering me back into his arms and cradling me—- it was everything!

“You’re a great little dancer!”  He said, leaving close to talk into my ear, which also meant I felt his hot breath against my ear, which made me feel all— like— buttery.

I giggled and said, “You’re doing everything!”  Once again, I felt a need to show him he was in control, that I loved having him in control.

“Don’t be modest,” he said.  “You did ballet when you were a girl, didn’t you?”

I couldn’t tell him he was wrong.  That would be so rude!  So, I just giggled some more and said, “Guilty!”  Then, I was just lost in the music and the dancing, getting dipped, spun, then, in a move that came as a total shock to me he put his hands on my hips and lifted me in the air, setting me on his shoulder and spinning us both as the song ended.  I suddenly realized that the other dancers had cleared a space around us and were all watching, and as we finished they started to clap.  Even the leader of the orchestra called out “Yeah!”

Of course, I loved being the center of attention, and I so totally milked it.  As the guy effortlessly lifted me off his shoulder and set me on my feet, I leaned against him, putting a hand on his chest, smiling and while I kicked one leg up.  He put an arm possessively around my waist and pulled me closer, which made me feel a little weird.  I mean, I was just playing this up because— cute.  What if he were getting ideas?

“I want to show you something,” he said, taking me hand and leading me off the dance floor.  “Come on.”

I glanced back at my friends, who were all giggling and waving.  The room was actually surrounded with big, open windows that allowed the sultry night air to blow through, and he led me right to one of them. I couldn’t say no to this guy.  I just had to go along, but now I was getting really scared.  He was so big and strong, if he tried something I would be helpless!  I gave my friends a “help me!”  glance as he dragged me toward the beach.

I slipped out of my heels, letting them dangle from the fingertips of my free hand, while he squeezed the other and led me away from the lights of the resort, onto a sand dune.  “What do you want to show me?”  I said.  “I shouldn’t leave my friends?”

He sat on top of the dune and tugged at my hand.  I lowered myself as gracefully as I could in my little dress.  With the sun down, the night had turned cool, and a chill breeze off the ocean sent shivers through my little body.  “I’m cold,” I said, hoping it would lead him to take me back inside.

He slipped off his dinner jacket and slipped it over my shoulders.  Omigod, it was heaven.  I just— I wanted to kiss him, needed to kiss him--but no.  No. I wouldn’t give in.  Never!

“Look!”  He said, gesturing toward the sky.

I looked up to see a full moon, and not just a regular full moon.  It looked extra huge, like, maybe 5 times its normal size, hovering in the sky above us so perfect and pretty.  “Omigod,” I said.  It’s so —- beautiful!”  My heart fluttered.

“It’s a super moon,” he said.  “Very rare.”  He looked me in the eyes.  I knew he wanted to kiss me, and my dude self felt terrified.  I couldn’t let that happen!  I am not into boys!  But, he’d been so nice, and it just seemed like it would be rude and unladylike to just push him away.  I would tell him I wasn’t interested.  Just be honest and polite.

Instead, when I opened my mouth, I heard myself say in a breathy, feminine voice, “You’re so smart.”  He put a hand to my check— omigod why did he have to be so good at this?— and then he leaned closer, looking me right in the eyes. Omigod, omigod he is so totally going to kiss me!  Stop him!  Push him away! But I was so submissive now I couldn’t seem to do anything, I felt like I had to do what he wanted me to do, and I leaned forward, our lips coming closer and closer….

“Hey, guys!” Kylie yelled.  We both pulled away, scooched to put some distance between us.

“Look at the moon!” Taylor shouted.

“So romantic!”

I looked at my friends, letting them know with my eyes how relieved I was.  They had a bottle of champagne and glasses.  “You don’t mind if we join you, right?” Kylie said, plopping down on the sand next to me.  “We brought booze.”

The guy stayed just long enough to be polite, then excused himself. As soon as he was gone, I gasped.  “Omigod, you guys.  You totally saved me!  He was going to kiss me!”

“That’s not all he was about to do,” Taylor said, refilling my champagne glass.

“Someone was about to lose her V-card!” Nicole said.

“Oh! Gross!  I would never ever!  I…”

“Oh, gross!” Kylie said, mimicking me.

Nicole waved her hands, loose wristed. ‘Omigod! Boys are so terrible!”

“Look at you,” Taylor said. “Hot little thing in your sexy little dress. Just a few days ago you were a man, and you thought you were so manly.”

“Now you drool over a pair of fuck me heels.”

“Stop it!”  I said. “Don’t be so, like, um, mean?”

“Like, um….” Nicole said.

“Omigod!” Taylor chimed in.

“I am pretty girly,” I admitted, chuckling.

“And you are totally into guys,” Kylie said.

I rolled my eyes.  “I am,” I finally admitted. “But, I probably wasn’t ready to-- you know. Go all the way. Thanks for saving me,” I said.

“That’s what besties do,” Kylie said.  “You know we got your sexy back.”

I felt myself getting teary eyed.  “Oh, you guys!”  I said, and then their faces went all blurry as I lost the battle against my tears and my eyes flooded, the salty tears rolling down my cheeks.

“Oh,” Taylor said, and then they all wrapped their arms around me in a group hug.  I had never felt such warm, sisterly energy.  I really was one of the girls.  When the hug ended, I wiped the tears and forced a smile.

“Sorry,” I said.  “You guys made me so girly!”

“Yeah we did,” Taylor said, getting up and then offering me a hand. “Now, bed time.  We have a long day tomorrow and you need your beauty sleep.” I took her hand and let her pull me to my feet, surprised and confused that I even felt kind of excited by having a woman treat me like a helpless little thing.   We started walking back to the hotel, and I was a little worried about something.

“Guys?  I have to ask?”  I said.  It seemed I was ending a lot of sentences as questions now, even when they weren’t.

“Yeah?”  Nicole answered.

“When I started crying back there, was it like, an ugly cry, or did I look cute?”

“Oh. My. God,” Taylor said and then they all answered in unison, “You are such a Sofia!”

CHAPTER eight

“It feels really tight!”  I said.

“That’s to keep your boobs from bouncing around too much,” Taylor said as she touched her toes.

The sun was just rising over the ocean, golden rays cresting the horizon.  Taylor had decided we needed to go for a run to burn off the champagne calories, and I didn’t really want to, but I pretended I was totally into it because I was now unable to disagree with anyone.  This morning I wore a pink Victoria’s Secret sports bra and a pair of super tight spandex shorts.  Whereas the other bras I’d worn had given my girls support, the sports bra was holding them tight against my chest, and lifting them to give me some super cute cleavage, a nice rounded meeting of the boobs that had already gotten more than a few appreciative glances from guys running past.  With the shorts hugging my hips and booty like a second skin, I felt extra aware of how big my butt was now, and how it swelled out behind me like an invitation. And they really showed off how long and lithe my legs were. I had an hourglass figure, and these shorts just perfectly celebrated my sway of hip, my plump, firm, lifted rear end.  “Does my butt look big in these shorts?”  I asked.

“Yes,” Kylie said.  “Big and very sexy.”

I giggled.  “That’s not why I asked.”

“Yes, it is.”

We started running, my long ponytail swishing against my back. My books bounced with each stop, despite my sports bra.  It felt like I had two bags of pudding bobbing up and down on my chest.  “Something’s wrong,” I said.  “My boobs are still bouncing!”

The girls all laughed.  “Welcome to the life of a woman,” Kylie said.  “The bra just makes them bounce less!”

“I’m wearing two sports bras,” Taylor said.  “I am still feeling the jiggle!”

As a guy, of course, I had loved to see women running in their bras, watching their boobs bounce.  I never thought it might be a little uncomfortable.  Meanwhile, my booty was also jiggling, even secured in my super tight shorts.

“Hold your arms higher,” Nicole said, running backwards so I could see how she was doing it.  She had her biceps up, bracketing her breasts, which also gave her a slightly more girly run.  Of course, I loved the idea of looking more girly, so I copied her position and sure enough, keeping my arms up like that kind of reduced the side to side bouncing— plus I knew I looked super cute!

We ran up the beach for a while, I eventually was able to stop thinking about the way my body was jiggling and just get lost in my thoughts, thinking about all the things that had happened, how they had changed me.  It all seemed—right— somehow, and yet at the same time, there was still Colin in me, a guy who was a little freaked out to be a female, and to be acting like a female.  That feeling soon intensified.  A lot of men were out running this morning, and my eyes began to drink in their bodies-- the muscled calves, veins popping as they ran, broad, muscular shoulders… without even realizing it I was getting turned on.  I was letting my eyes play across a guy’s hard, muscular little butt, thinking about how hard he’d be able to fuck, when Kylie teased, “he does have a nice ass, right?”

“What?”  I said, totally shamed that she’d caught me. “I wasn’t looking---”

“More like drooling,” Taylor said.

“You’re man crazy!”  Nicole chimed in.

“I am so not--” I started to say, but just then a tall, gorgeous man ran towards us with the most fantastic grey eyes like a husky.  He met my eyes, smiled and said, “Looking good.”

“Omigod!” I gasped, my whole body aching with desire, my head whipping around so I could check out his backside. I turned and started to run back after him.

The girls all laughed, but Kylie grabbed my arm and pulled me along.  “Down girl!” She said.  “Down!”

“This is so…  I can’t even believe!”  It was so weird and annoying to find myself lusting after men.  I’d been able to look at a guy before and say-- he works out.  Good face or whatever, but I had never felt my whole body just ACHE for a man to sweep me up in his arms and kiss me.  I’d never seen a guy smile and felt my knees go weak.  I was seeing men in a whole new light now, and I wanted to touch them and kiss them and get on my hands and knees and …. and…  Okay.  Enough of that!  I focused back on my running, straining not to check out any more cute guys.

We turned and ran back to where we had started, but instead of going to the hotel we came onto the beach.  “Yoga cool down!” Taylor said.

She led the session, and I was excited to find out I was much more flexible now!  I easily slipped from pose to pose, bending my body in shapes I’d never been able to achieve as a guy.  The sun had continued to rise, and the sky was a perfect bay blue, dusted with pretty little whips of chalky white clouds.  It kind of hit me as we all flowed from downward dog into cobra pose—  I felt so close with these girls now!  I was really inside girl world, seeing how they lived and talked with each other when dudes weren’t around!

“What’s on the agenda for today”. I asked, glowing as we headed back to the hotel.

“A few more changes,” Kylie said.

“Like, I totally know that,” I said.  “I meant for things to do?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Nicole said, giving me a par on the butt.  “Just go put on a bikini and we’ll take care of all the planning.”

I giggled and flashed a smile.  It was good to have someone tell me what to do!

I slipped into my Adriana Degreas bandeau bikini with hoops— this is a style where instead of the pieces of the bikini being kept together with string, they are linked with metal hoops-- they look almost like hoop earrings.  They are so sexy, looking almost like something you would see like a savage girl wearing in Game of Thrones. Then, I put on some light, beach make-up, before gathering my hair and pinning it up in a messy bun like the one I’d seen Brie Larson sporting in her Vogue photo spread.  Finally, I slipped into a pair of platform sandals with a wedge heel— I had a super sexy butt and great legs, but they looked even cuter in heels, and I was all about getting everyone to look at me now, so there was no lengths I wouldn’t go to to WIN at girl.  Finally, I slipped a pair of big, golden hoops into my ears, admiring how pretty and feminine they looked while also echoing the hoops on my bikini.  I loved the way they brushed against my cheeks when I turned my head, and I was busy standing in front of the mirror, taking selfies in different poses when the girls knocked and we all went down to the beach.

We got out chairs, and I was all touchy feely with the studly guys, making sure I would haunt their dreams— little touches on the arm, shoulders, lots of giggles and hair tosses.  The guy in me— he was still there, screaming— was totally ashamed that I was working so hard to turn on a bunch of guys, but I couldn’t help it.  I needed all cute guys to like me.  The thought of them ignoring me was like DEATH!  When they left, I lay back on my beach chair and sighed.  ‘I can’t stop myself” I giggled.

“You are such a little flirt!”  Taylor said.

I stuck my tongue out at her. Nicole handed me an issue of Cosmo, and I opened it, gawking at all the pretty ads like a kid in a candy store.  Kylie called the waiter over and ordered Mimosas and bowls of tropical fruit and granola.

Soon, I found myself sipping contentedly on my mimosa— orange juice and champagne are so yummy!— while skimming through an article on the empowering art of pole dancing.  I’d been to more than a few strip clubs, and as I was reimagining the experience of being in the audience, whooping as a girl stripped off her top and and shook her breasts, I suddenly found myself imagining ME up there, my skin all sparkly, shaking my bare breasts, all of these hapless men going crazy with desire…

“Oh!”  I turned the page, shocked at what I was thinking.

“What?”  Kylie said.

“Um… I spilled some of my drink on my cleavage!”  I lied.  “Last night I found sand in there!”  Which was true.

“Top ten things only women with big breasts get,” Nicole said.  “Finding stuff in your cleavage.”

“Really?”  I asked.

“Yeah,” Kylie said.  “It’s normal.  Get used to it.”

“Women have to put up with so much!”  I said, tsking.

The girls all laughed.  “You’re learning, sister.”

Three more mimosa later, and I was buzzing pretty hard.  It seemed my little female body could not handle alcohol the way I could as a dude. Not that I cared.  “I wish this beach were topless,” I said, adjusting my top.  I noticed a boy— maybe 13— gawking at me.  At that age it was kind of cute, so I blew him a kiss, and he blushed and turned away.

“So,” Kylie said. “We decided to give you a choice about the last change.”

“Me?”  I said.  The thought of having to make a decision instantly filled me with anxiety.

“Really, the last thing left is for you to identify as female,” Nicole said. “To think of yourself as a woman.”

I put my pinky to my lip and bit down on it gently, feeling the edge of my long nail against the tip of my tongue. ‘Um, I don’t know for sure?  It might be, um… well…” If I start thinking of myself as a woman, will I want to go back to being a guy?”

“Think of it this way,” Taylor said.  “You could totally be the best lover ever after.  You’d find out everything about what it’s like for a girl, and you know what it’s like for a guy.”

“And if you decide to go back to being a guy, we’ll make you think of yourself as a guy,” Nicole said.

“This is a once in a lifetime chance for you to REALLY find out what it’s like on the other side,” Kylie added.  “And you would truly be one of the girls.  You would know everything about our experience.”

“You wouldn’t think I was, like, less of a man?”  I said, toying with my earring.

“More of a man,” Taylor said.  “Most guys don’t have the balls.”

My heart was racing.  I could tell the girls all wanted me to do it.  We could so totally bond.  I wouldn’t be a guy acting like a girl anymore. I would be a girl.  A woman. If I only had the courage, we would so totally be sisters forever!  “Um….  I….”  I guzzled down the rest of my mimosa… “Well…. Um… like….”  The three were all sitting up, leaning towards me, smiling and nodding.

“You need to make a decision,” Kylie said.  “We need to go either way.”

“Tell me what to do!”  I burst out.  “Please!  You decide!”

They looked at each other, and Kylie reached out and took my soft little hand in hers.  “Welcome to the girl side.”

We went back to the hotel, showered and changed.  Kylie helped me choose an outfit— I was so indecisive!  But, she picked the perfect cute little thing for me to wear— a pair of tiny little ripped jean shorts that showed off my hip and ass as well as my long, tan legs.  I wore a bikini top and a flouncy tan top with open sleeves, showing off all kinds of side boob, plus a little straw cowgirl hat.  “Where are we going now?” I said, snapping some selfies.  I really did look cute in that hat!

“A place for you to get all kinds of attention!” Kylie said.

I couldn’t help but squeal.  “Goodie!”

“Not so goodie,” I said as we rounded a corner and I looked up at a giant banner that read “Wet T-shirt Contest.”  I stopped dead in my tracks.  “You guys don’t expect me to…”

“YES!”  They all answered, laughing.

“People will be recording this,” I said.  “It’ll be on the Internet.”

“Just come on,” Taylor said, grabbing my hand and dragging me forward.  “We can decide once we’re inside.”

“No. Nope! I am not that kind of girl.  I don’t want a reputation.”

“You need to do this!” Kylie said.  “You’re so pretty!”

“If you don’t,” Nicole said, “we’ll make you an exhibitionist. “You’ll be obsessed with showing off that fine ass body.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”  I said, terrified at the thought of getting up in front of that big crowd.  I was about to say something else, but my mind got cloudy and I wobbled, and then I smiled.  “Omigod!  A wet t-shirt contest?  Try and stop me!”

There were a lot of girls there— a lot of hot girls with really great boobs.  We got some beers, and I was checking out the competition, annoyed because I started feeling super competitive, especially as a few of them gave me side eye and hair tosses, letting me know they thought they were hotter.  “You could so totally win this,” Kylie said.

“Look at that Latina giving you the eye,” Nicole said.  “She thinks she’s prettier than you!”

“As if!” I hissed.

A blonde girl who looked like Kate Upton walked by, looked at my chest, then met my eyes and made a dismissive “hmph” noise.

All my competitive feminine urges surged.  “Oh, no you didn’t,” I said.

“She did.  She thinks you’re plain,” Taylor said.

“Sign me up!” I said.  “That bitch is going down!”

“Yaaaas!”  My girlfriends all cheered.

The contest was sponsored by Captain Morgan’s rum, so I had to wear one of their t-shirts.  Seeing what the other girls were doing, I cut the t-shirt down into what amounted to a crop top, then slipped out of my bra and had the girls tie the little scrap of t-shirt tight at the back so it really hugged my girls. I had big, puffy areolas, and they were, like, super sensitive— girls know— and you could see them all dark and mysterious through the shirt even before I stood shaving and giggling while the girls poured water over my shirt, making it all nice and wet, so it clung to my breasts and my areolas and nipples were so clearly visible through the shirt I felt myself getting turned on— but I suppressed the feelings, as I had a plan.

“Just follow your instincts,” Taylor coached me.  “Be the cutest girl!”

“Yeah.  Your body knows what to do,” Kylie said.  “And remember to show everyone that pretty smile!”

I nodded, totally focused, watching the other girls go up, seeing what to do and what not to do.  I was going to win this and prove to everyone I was the hottest bitch in this place!   Nicole was fixing my hair.  “Just pull this pin,” she said, raising my hand so I would know where it was. “And your hair will all tumble down over your eyes.  It’ll be so sexy!”

“You nervous?” Taylor asked.

“Ha!  I can’t wait to get up there.  I love having people…”  As I was talking, I remembered their threat, how suddenly I’d changed my mind from “no way” to “sign me up.” I hungered for the feeling of eyes on my sexy body, craved the attention, the feeling of power. “You changed me again!”  I squealed.  “You made me a little slut!”

“Now, now,” Nicole said.

‘I thought you were feminists!  This isn’t fair.”

“So bail.  You can just be a wallflower, hiding in the audience.”

“I will!”  I said, crossing my arms under my breasts, furious.

But then they called my name.  Sofia. It made me feel good to have them call me Sofia in front of the whole audience.  It was such a prettier name than stupid Colin. I couldn’t help it.  I was super hot, and I needed everyone to see! I strutted up onto the stage, shaking my hips and my breasts, feeling them sway and bounce as I raised my hands above my head and showed everyone my prettiest smile.  The guys roared, and I spun around, letting them get a nice look at my ass, then danced across the stage, pulling up on my top, letting them get a flash of my underboob, but keeping it low enough to cover my nips, so I wouldn’t get disqualified— but of course everyone could see them right through the wet fabric that was clinging to them like saran wrap.  The boys were all howling, and I felt like a goddess, so powerful and so in control.

I danced next to the host— a fat radio DJ from some crap station, but I giggled and smiled at him.  “What’s your name and where are you from?”  He asked me, just as he’d asked all the other girls.  “I’m Sofia,” I said in my high, breathy little girl voice.  “And I’m from your dreams!” I cupped my breasts and lifted them, then started dancing as the music started up again, squeezing my breasts and lifting them, my nipples turning into hard little points, the sight of which brought a deeper, guttural, masculine howl from the audience.  I felt like a Roman gladiator at the colosseum, and and I reached up and pulled the hair pin from my hair, letting all the golden waves tumbled down off my shoulders and fall across my face as I blew a kiss to all the guys and strutted off stage, waving my arms over my head, wiggling my whole bouncy, soft body… waves of sound washing over me as I triumphantly came off stage…

“You’re glowing!” Taylor cried out.

“Omigod!” Nicole said.

“You just gave a thousand dudes blue balls!”  Kylie said.  They all had their phones out, as did half of everyone else, and I realized the show hadn’t ended. I buried my hands in my hair, thrusting my chest out and said, “Drink it in, bitches!”

I almost died when they called my name and I pranced back on stage, actually kicking myself in the booty, my breasts heaving.  I had won a thousand dollars and a case of Captain Morgans.  I giggled and preened, even giving the gross host a hug and a leg kick—  I mean, this was all going to be immortalized, so I had to make it good, for realz.

When I came off stage, I got the shock of my life to see my girlfriends talking to— the guy.  The one who’d almost kissed me on the beach!  My heart fluttered, and I found myself looking at him with new eyes—  he was such a guy!  Broad shoulders, square chin… muscular but not to the point of being gross… his shirt was open, revealing rock hard pecs, and looking him over I just wanted to lick every part of him.  A few things occurred to me all at once, and my scattered girly brain filled with panic:  the girls had changed me so I like guys, and I really wanted to finish what we’d started because he was, like, the hottest guy I had ever seen.   Second, I didn’t even know his name.  Third, he had just seen me shaking my tits in front of a thousand men, and would he like, think I was a total slut?

My mouth dropped open and I put a hand to my cheek.  Be cool.  Be cool, I said to myself, but turned into a total dork, looking desperately to my friends for help.  “Oh! My God!”  I squeaked.  “Like, well… um… totes… totiness… totirino…”

“Sofia,” Kylie said, “you remember Drake?”

Drake!  Omigod!  Even his name was sexy!  “Yeah!  Hi!”  I said.  My voice sounded too loud, too squeaky.  “Did you see…?”  I gestured back toward the stage.

“Hell yes, I did,” he said, nodding.  “You were amazing!”  His eyes never left my face.  I could feel myself blushing.  Most guys would have been unable to take their eyes off the wet t-shirt clinging to my boobs.

“Amazing?”  I said, suddenly shy.  “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Take the compliment,” Drake said.  “You’re a great dancer!”

I giggled.  “Thanks,”  I said.  “That’s the traditional response to a compliment, I think?”

“She’s adorable!”  Taylor said.

“Such a Sofia,” Drake said, giving me a playful little chuck to the chin.  We all laughed.

“People keep telling me that,” I said.

“Let’s get you changed,” Kylie said.  “Drake’s buying us all lunch!”

Panic.  Omigod, I thought.  Does he know I have the hots for him? Is he going to punch my V-card?  I was equally horrified and in love with the idea, and as soon as I was alone with Kylie in the bathroom I grabbed her and said, “You have to get me out of this!”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Kylie said.  “He’s hot, and he’s a gentleman.”

I pulled my wet t-shirt off, my breasts bouncing and swaying.  Kylie handed me my bikini top.  “You do have an incredible rack,” she said.

“Thanks!”  I said, pleased as I effortlessly slipped it on, then my tank top.  “I’m scared!” I said.  “I’ve never been with a guy.  I don’t know what to do?  He’ll think I’m a spaz!”

“Don’t worry about it.  He’ll take the lead.  You just follow.”

I turned to the mirror and started fixing my hair.  “Please tell me you have some makeup in that purse?”

“Girl, please,” Kylie said, opening her purse and putting some blush, mascara and lipstick on the counter.  “Not that you need it.”

“I CAN’T let him see me without it!”  I said, my whole body gasping with relief.

“Omigod, Colin,” Kylie said.  “You are such a girly girl!”

I was brushing the lipstick onto my lips— it was L’oreal, and a good, pink daytime color— but stopped to look her in the eye.  Please. ,” I said. Call me Sofia.  It’s my name now?”

“Yes it is,” Kylie said.  “Yes, it is.”

“If I start to panic, I’m going to say, um… I need to think of something I would never say… um…”

“Bro, I need to tinkle,” Kylie said.

“I would never say that,” I said.

“That’s why it’s perfect,” Kylie said, then she took my arm. “Now let’s go hang out with your boyfriend!”

“Omigod, he’s not my boyfriend!”  I said, but I did follow her out.  I liked her telling me what to do.

“Sorry.  Your fuck buddy,” Kylie whispered as we approached Drake and the group.

“Stop!”

As we left the Wet T-shirt contest, people kept shouting at me.  I blew kisses.  Some guy tried to come up to me, but Drake blacked him and escorted me past.  “Thanks,” I said as he slipped his arm around my waist.

“I’ll keep the wolves at bay,” Drake said.  I snuggled against him.  I liked the way our bodies fit together.

Drake led us a couple blocks away, off the main street, to one of those secret locals places.  It was an old beach house, painted in funky Carribean blues and oranges, with palm tree growing from a hole in the front porch, haciendas and cacti. From 100 feet away I could smell charbroiled meat and tangy spices, and Bob Marley was singing “I woke up this morning, looked at the rising sun..”

“Drake!” The hostess called right away when she saw him. “Come on!”  She led us to a back deck that overlooked a tropical garden with old, moss covered fountains nestled amongst wild ferns.  Colored lanterns hung from ropes that stretched across the yard.

I found myself in a fuzzy daze as we ordered rum runners, sipping and laughing, plates of stone crabs and shrimp and lobster tacos seeming to appear before us.  We ate and laughed.  Drake was the perfect gentleman.  We stared into each other’s eyes, and when he found excuses to touch me his hands were confident, gentle, and he knew just how far to go without going too far.   He touched me knee, my thigh, my arm…. and each time my skin tingled, and I felt something inside me clench, some need growing within me…  I needed to be filled….

Some other guys showed up.  They started hitting on my girlfriends, and someone suggested we keep the party going back at the hotel.  We all gathered in Nicole’s room for awhile, Drake and I were there, but we were really together, just the two of us.  He told me about his dreams.  His business leading extreme tours in tropical jungles.  I-- lied.  I told him I was a model. He didn’t doubt it.  He told me he knew an agent who could help me get work, and I swooned.

I handed Drake my keycard. He took me by the hand and led me to my room, opening the door for me, putting his hand on the small of my back and guiding me in, leading me. As soon as the door closed he turned me and grabbed me, pulling me to him, smothering my surprise in a hot, wet kiss that left me seeing stars.  He lifted me off my feet, and I instinctively wrapped my long legs around him, kissing him, my arms around his neck.  The tension had been building for hours and my body just burst into flaming heat, aching, craving in ways I had never felt, never imagined.

Drake’s eyes were burning, too, hot and aggressive like a bull’s. He lay me down on the bed, grabbing at the button on my shorts, popping it and pulling them down my legs.  I yanked my top off, my breasts bouncing free, my nipples so hard, aching, hurting but so good, and when he put his hands over my breasts, squeezing I gasped and moaned, throwing my head back in ecstasy.   My hard little nipples were pressing against his palms, and they were on fire, which is when he grabbed them between his thumb and fingers and pinched..

“Yes!  Oh, God!  Yes!” I screamed, an intense pleasure/pain sending shockwaves through my body, and I could feel myself getting wet, so wet down below, and I found myself reaching down, trying to grab his cock, to shove it inside me.  I could feel it pressing against my soft thigh.  It was so hard… so big…  I needed it.  Some part of me, that last little bit of Colin, was terrified and ashamed, but those feelings only seemed to intensify my need now as a woman, as Sofia, to have that huge dick thrusting…

But just as my desperate fingers brushed against the tip of Drake’s penis, he grabbed both of my wrists and pulled my arms up, over my head, pinning them there.  I struggled, wanting to test him, to see how strong he was, and I sighed and gasped with even greater need as I found myself powerless, dominated, unable to resist him at all.

Drake saw it in my eyes-- feminine surrender-- he kissed me on the lips, then on the neck, between my breasts and them he took one of my nipples in his mouth and bit-- just hard enough to drive me into a frenzy, wrapping my legs around him, trying to pull him into me.  “Please…” I whimpered.  “Please…”

Drake grunted.  He let go of my wrists, slipped his arms under me and effortlessly flipped me onto my belly.  I was face down now, my face buried in the pillow.  I felt Drake grab my hips and yank them up, and I shivered as I realized what he was doing, what he wanted.  He was about to take me doggy style, and though as a man I had wondered why women didn’t find this demeaning, I now felt myself get even hotter and wetter at the thought of him mounting me.  I only wanted to please him, to obey him, and I would let him fuck me anyway he wanted, and I knew i would love it.

I pushed myself up onto my hands, tossed my hair to one side, reverse arched my back like a cat so my ass rose, inviting.  He grabbed my panties and I heard them tear as he ripped them off me, and then he put one hand on the small of my back, moved into position and then-- omigod… omigod…  I felt him enter, felt his manhood slide into the hot, wet slit between my legs… and I almost fainted as waves of impossible pleasure rolled through my body…

I started making small little mewling sounds as he began to move in and pull back, gentle at first, but them getting faster, harder… his hips slamming into my soft ass… his dick pounding into me now, deeper and deeper…  I pushed back with my arms, wanting more, deeper… needing more and deeper...

“Unh!  Unh!  Unh!” I felt something building inside me.  At first it was like a tiny little pebble of intense pleasure, but it seemed to get bigger, stronger.. and I felt Drake explode, hot and sticky, inside me, and the ball exploded, too, and I saw stars and my whole body shook as I screamed, “Yes!  Yes!  Yes!”

Drake pulled out, slapping me on the ass, and I collapsed, rolling onto my side, hugging my knees to my chest, gasping, panting, sweating…

Drake collapsed next to me.  I felt him massaging my back, kissing my shoulder.  “Was that good for you?”

I looked back over my shoulder, my hair all in my face, still panting. My skin was covered in droplets of sweat. I didn’t know what to say, but my body told me. “Fuck me again,” I whispered.  ‘Please.”

Drake laughed.  “Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”

I giggled.  I’d never felt more happy. Drake could have been an Olympic athlete of sex.  We went three more times that night, each time seemingly even better than the last. I was lost in a haze of pure feminine pleasure, completely absorbed in our bodies, our lovemaking, feeling like I had passed into some timeless dimension where nothing mattered or ever would matter-- a world of pure pleasure.

We sat on the balcony sipping our steaming cups of coffee and watched the sun rise. We didn’t talk.  We just stared into each other’s eyes, each one amazed and puzzled and delighted into this insane connection we’d made.  I had totally just, like, imprinted on Drake.  I was crushing on him like a 13 year old girl, which I guess wasn’t strange since I’d only been a girl for a day or two, and he was my first.  I just wanted us to stay together forever, talking, laughing, making love.

But, it had to come to an end.  Drake sighed.  “I have to go,” he said. “Duty calls.”

I pouted over my coffee mug. “Stay?  Just a little longer?”

“Gotta go, babe,” he said.

I felt this sudden rush of fear and shame.  I was just a fuck to him, wasn’t I?  Here I was getting all mooney over him like some silly girl, and to him I’d just been a good time.

But, then he came over and took my chin in his hand, tilted my head back and looked me in the eyes. “I want to see you again,” he said.

“Oh,” I said, caught off guard, having already started down a path of total emotional meltdown.

“I mean, if you want to.  I didn’t mean to presume.  It’s just--”  It was the first time he’d seemed vulnerable, unsure, and my feminine heart fluttered.  It was so cute, and I loved that he was feeling a little insecure now about us, about what all this meant.

“I want to see you again,” I said. “I-- you’re amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he said, his confident smile returning as he kissed me, and that kiss told me everything I needed to know. That was a kiss that sadd-- you’re my woman, now.  “Be good,” he said as he left.

I covered my face, giggling, stomping my feet, and then I grabbed my phone and texted Kylie.

The girls, of course, had to give me a hard time. We ordered room service and sipped mimosas as they ribbed me about being the catcher instead of the pitcher, asked me how it felt to have my feet in the air.  I took it all in good nature.  The afterglow from my night with Drake left me in s state where I think I would have smiled right through passing a kidney stone.

Once they finished teasing me, they finally got around to asking me the question I think they’d really been obsessing about the whole time.  “So, girlfriend,” Kylie said, putting her hand over mine.  “Seriously, which is better?  Sex as a guy or sex as a girl?”

I bit my lip.  “Um, it’s not even close,” I said. “It is so much better as a girl.”

They all laughed.  “You owe me 20 bucks!” Kylie said to Nicole.

“Yeah, with a guy like Drake it is,” she said. “But he should have to sleep with a drunk loser before he decides!”

“Pay up!”

“You cost me 20 dollars!”  Nicole said.

“Sorry,” I said, doing my cute little shrug.  “Sex as a girl is just… Oh!”

They all laughed.

“Well, honey, I hope you enjoyed it because vacation time is over, and it’s back to being a boy soon,” Nicole said.

“Um, about that?”  I said.

The girls all looked at me.  They knew what I was about to say, and I could see they were all a little surprised by it.  I took a deep breath.  I was really nervous and scared by what I was about to say, and I almost chickened out, but no.  I knew what I wanted.

“I’d like to stay a girl.  I want to be Sofia.  For the rest of my life.”   I took a sip of my mimosa, my eyes sparkling with mischief.  “Even if I am a slut.”

The girls laughed, but then they got serious.  “Colin…” Taylor started.

“Sofia.”

“Sofia, um, remember that we made you think of yourself as a woman.  We made you all girly-girl.”

“And life as a woman isn’t going to be one big vacation where you hook up with super hot guys,” Kylie added.  “It’s work and running errands…”

“Getting cat-called, dealing with sexism…” Nicole chimed in.

“Periods.  Have you thought about periods?” Taylor said.

“I don’t care,” I said.  “I’ll take the good with the bad.  I mean, I know you made me like this, and I know you made me like men and think of myself as a woman.  But- I like it.  I like what you made me, and I think-- I know-- I will be happier as Sofia.  I am a woman.  I want to be one- good and bad.”

“You’re sure?” Kylie said.  “In another two days, the spell will become permanent.”

“I’m sure,” I said, a sense of relief sweeping over me as I said it, as I realized this could and would become permanent.  “Now, one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Let’s get into our teeny-tiniest bikinis and hit the beach!”

The girls all whooped, and I whooped with them.  I was one of the girls now, and I’d never felt more at home.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I have loved gender bending fiction since I saw the Star Trek episode Turnabout intruder as a child and had my mind blown. A longtime TG writer with numerous #1 sellers to my credit, I hope you enjoyed this story. Please consider leaving a review, and be sure to check out my other works on my Amazon page: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B00FK1H44O