Part 2 Meet the Author: How to be the perfect girl

“Your aunt must be pretty nice to post your rent for six months.”

“Yeah she’s a real sweetheart,” I lied, in a soft unfamiliar girl’s voice. The truth: I wanted to find that bitch as soon as possible and get her to change me back to a guy again. Why was she so upset that I had written my book under the pen name of Ashley Brigette? Why the hell did it bother her so much that she had to have me kidnapped, fill with nanobots (which are extremely expensive) and have me transformed into a form more appropriate for the name ‘Ashley’.

“So you want me to get you something more comfortable to sleep in” my new room-mate yawned, “I mean, if you want to sleep in that get-up?” she shrugged.

“Uhhhh, yeah. That would be real sweet of you. Do you have like an oversized t- shirt or something simple like that??”

As she turned to get me new pajamas, I couldn’t help but notice that my little roommate was a pretty hot piece of as, that I wouldn’t mind tapping when I got my real body back. But then the pain began again. A voice came with the pain. “This is a warning,” the nano-bots in my head screeched, “all such thoughts will be subject to disciplinary consequences. For information on your expected behavior, please consult the text.”

The text? I wrote the god damned text, but I opened the book to chapter one anyway. The pain slowly subsided.
Bobbie brought me a long pink t-shirt to sleep in.
The first chapter in my book was about the importance of appearance, and male expectations.

“Most girls know instinctively how important it is to dress for success. Successes in this context being attracting an acceptable mate,” the very first line read.

“When are you going to have your clothes sent over?” Bobbie asked.

I told her that all of my clothes had been destroyed in a fire.
“Well you can borrow some of mine, I have lots – and you look my size. And I’m off tomorrow. Why don’t we go out shopping together? We can make a day of it and get to know each other better.”

So the next morning she brought me some of her clothes to wear out to buy clothes. I had asked for jeans and a t-shirt, not a dress., thinking it would feel less awkward. But I forgot that women’s clothes are more form fitting. My new assets in the front and back seemed almost like they were on display.
“Oh, you look great in those,” she said.
So we went shopping for my new wardrobe. Although I had between dreading it, shopping with another person – someone who knew the finer points of shopping – made it tolerable at worst, and actually fun at its best. The nano-bots guided me to some pretty girly stuff.

Bobbie felt so bad that I had lost all my clothes in the fire, that she insisted making an appointment for me with her stylist to have my hair and nails done. But first we visited the make up store . I really dreaded going in there but I was out-voted by nano-bots and Bobbie.
I was treated to a make-over. Several of them actually.
“Try this” “Oh this color looks amazing on you!”, “look how cute you look” , “look how sexy you look”

After my appointment with the hair stylist. I was exhausted and feeling rather silly about the whole thing. I wanted to be done, but Bobbie grabbed my hand and said “I know you brought some everyday underwear, but I want to buy you something you’ll look really hot in.”
She pulled me into the lingerie store. That’s where I discovered that my nano-bots were programmed to give pleasure as well as pain. As I looked at myself in the mirror of the dressing room, a strange new feeling spread throughout my body. I felt good. I felt sexy. and I felt horny as hell. I rubbed the clit that had replaced my manhood. I was trembling. My knees almost buckled. I lost myself in the pleasure.
“Are you still in there?” came Bobbie’s voice through the dressing room. I put on my street clothes, but I was strangely excited and alive.
That’s how the nano-bots were making me feel, I thought, or at least, I hoped it was the nano-bots.

“Let’s go out on the town tonight and see how much damage we can do,” Bobbie suggested after she paid the cashier, “And we can put our new clothes to the test.”

I smiled broadly. “Hell Yes.” I proclaimed

end part 2


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