Phil was nervous about moving into the dorm. He was an only child and was used to having things his way. But, now, he was assigned to the girl’s dorm. How was that going to work? Reluctantly, he signed the papers, said farewell to his folks and started to move in. “Hello, I’m Pat.” came a voice. Apparently Pat was to be Phil’s new roommate.
They told Harry his research was foolish, that it was a waste of time. But no one ever warned him it was dangerous.
For a scientist, Dr. Harrold Rasmussen had always been a bit of a Romantic. He liked to think that maybe there was some truth to the old stories about spells and magic. After all, if the universe and all reality was composed of vibrating strings, wasn’t it at least possible that the vibrations of sound waves could affect that reality?
The experiment was simple. He would set up a computer program to play random patterns of sound continuously to see what results they triggered. Once everything was set up, the project would run itself.
For three weeks, nothing happened. Then one day, a chair in the room shifted positions slightly on its own. It wasn’t much, but it was proof of principle. As Harry began examining objects in the room to see if any had altered states in more subtle ways, something strange began to happen. The random stream of audio began speaking. The program wasn’t meant to replicate speech, but as the learned scientist reasoned, any truly random system will eventually, given enough time, produce patterns that appear meaningful. Nevertheless, it was uncanny how much these random sounds resembled a female voice, and how lucid its words were:
“You seek a power you have not earned, and so a lesson must be learned. The mind and reason did you chase; now flesh and feeling you’ll embrace.”
Harry was eager to write down such a fascinating random event. But by the time he finally found a pen, it was held by a hand he did not recognize: slender, delicate fingers, long nails, painted and shiny. The changes extended to the rest of his body as he rapidly shrank in height and waist circumference, but swelled in his butt and his brand new feminine breasts. Loose skin became tight and smooth. Rivers of hair poured from his formerly bare scalp as his features shifted and realigned into a more graceful and feminine arrangement. Finally with a soft squelching sound, his penis slithered up inside his body to form a vagina. “Fascinating!” the scientist exclaimed in a rich, alto voice.
None of Dr. Harrold Rasmussen’s fellow scientists ever found out why their former colleague so suddenly abandoned his research, never to be heard from again. How could they have guessed that the man once doing groundbreaking research in theoretical physics was now a voluptuous young woman named Haley. Of course, she was still doing plenty of experimenting on her own – and she was getting lots of very exciting results.
George was exhausted and bored. He had a long night at the bar and was a bit hungover, but, there were too many projects waiting for him at the office. So he rolled out of bed and dragged himself to the shower. He always found that a quick jerk in the shower in the morning gave him a good start on the day. So after lathering up, he grabbed his throbbing dick and started to whack away. He loved to fantasize about hot babes, but for some reason, this morning, all he could think about was cock…big cocks, thick cocks, little cocks, cocks of all shapes and sizes, but he was sucking them all.
It had been a long day and Jack was excited to finally have some time to himself. The party at work, the special dinner with friends, it had all been great, but now, he just wanted to be alone. That envelope that came in the morning mail had been on his mind all day. Happy Birthday it said on the outside and it was addressed from your secret self. He kept thinking it after his girlfriend Becky dropped my off at the door. “See you tomorrow beautiful,” said as she kissed him good night. Finally, home alone he rushed to his room and picked up the strange envelope. It had a pair of green stockings inside with a note…”To the beautiful you from your secret self! Put me on.” Ever since he was a little boy, he had always loved putting on pretty stockings, trying on his sister’s panties and bras and wondering what it would be like to have long hair and perky tits. This seemed like a special gift indeed. He took off his clothes and took a quick shower. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he put on one stocking and then the other. He stood up and as he did, he felt a bit of a rush. “What is that feeling rolling down my back,” he wondered. He rushed over to the full-length mirror on the closet door. “Ohmigod!” His voice was not the deep baritone he was used to hearing, but rather, lush and sultry. He saw a beautiful redhead (“I always fantasized I was a ginger!”) staring back at her. She ran her fingers up and down her smooth, white legs. A small smile came to her luscious lips as she felt a warm rush all over her new body. The phone rang. “Hello?” she said in a beautiful new voice. “Its me, came back a kind of familiar voice. Its the old you. When you go to work tomorrow, everyone will know you as you are now, the beautiful Brenda. And your old girlfriend, the one who just kissed you goodnight, will now be your handsome and horny boyfriend Buck. He will look a lot like the old you only slimmer and a lot sexier. Happy Birthday…Brenda, your wishes have finally come true.” Before she could say a work, the line clicked over to a dial tone. “What was that?” Brenda said to herself as she returned the phone to the cradle. She looked over at herself in the mirror, I love these new stockings. I hope that Buck enjoys taking them off as I do putting them on.
What is true happiness? I picked on odd time to start getting philosophical. There’s a man on the just outside of this bathroom waiting to fuck my brains out, and I’m so wet that I’m already leaking through my panties. But after all that I’ve gone through I can’t help but feel a little trepidation.
They say the grass is always greener on the other side, that the secret to happiness is just learning to be content with what you have. And I tried – I really did. For years and years, I tried to accept the fact that I was born a man and be content. For all I learned about ways to present transgendered, to use hormone replacement therapy, even to surgically modify a body. I heard stories about people who completely changed their lives. But I was convinced that none of it could truly make me happy if I wasn’t happy with myself as I was.
So what am I doing here, face perfectly made up, curves encased in sexy lingerie, and libido coursing, getting ready for this stranger to make a woman out of me? It was a moment of weakness. I didn’t think the wishing ring I found in that old pawn shop would really work, but that sliver of discontent in my heart made me impulsive. After years of working to accept my masculinity, I tried to seize the easy way out. One wish, the shopkeeper had warned me, that’s all you get. I knew exactly what I wanted.
There was silence, stillness. My heart was beating almost as hard as it is now. You can’t imagine my thrill when an electrical jolt charged through my blood stream. Trembling and panting, I rushed to the full length mirror in my bedroom. There, I watched as the hard male traits I had struggled so long to accept dissolved into soft, feminine curves. My whole body shrank slightly, my waist pinched in as hips and ass flared out. With each gasping breath, the flesh on my chest budded, swelled, and ballooned into generous breasts. The hair I had always kept buzzed grew in long blonde rivers. And my penis, the organ I had always believed I would have to embrace to be happy, disappeared inside my body as a brand new vagina formed. My vagina. I was a woman.
In the delirium of that moment, I got carried away. Miraculously, all my clothes had been transformed as well. I hurriedly got dressed in the sexiest outfit I could find and hit the town. A few hours later, and here I am, about to make my wish complete with an action I had always believed would fulfill me, but had never pursued until now. Can you blame me for hesitating? Maybe the thing I thought I always wanted won’t be so great after all. Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe I’ve given up my entire life to only be more miserable than ever. Or maybe . . . maybe, I’ll be happier than I’ve ever thought possible. I think it’s time to find out.