7: Awakening
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Phoebe

On that night, for the first time in forever, I could remember my dream.

I was back in my hospital bed, using a laptop my parents provided. Being able to use my arms like this meant this must be at least six months back. After feeling this new freedom I had gained for myself, being back in this old body felt terrible. All the wrongness was back, and now that I knew what things could be like, I was able to put a name to it. Dysphoria. The rough body hair all over my limbs, the stubble that I had asked a nurse to shave for me daily but kept coming back, it was terrible. The thin body, straight as a stick, the flat chest, the lack of hips, the penis just existing – I was now painfully aware of all of these things, and it hurt more than ever.

I would have thrown up, but this dream didn’t allow me that freedom. I was stuck, my body performing seemingly predetermined actions. I tried pulling myself away from every inch of my body feeling so wrong, so ill-fitting; how did I put up with this for nineteen years? I finally managed to concentrate on something else, the laptop screen. My hand, going through the motions, was scrolling through a story. I read a few paragraphs and immediately recalled what it was. A short tale about a trans girl in denial who thought she was just a depressed dude being turned into a deergirl by accident. She then had to deal with all sorts of shenanigans, all the while figuring out that she preferred being a girl and was actually trans. At the time I was a big fan of these stories, and I tried to rationalize this to myself by saying that it was just wish fulfillment, because being transformed would cure me, clearly.

What I never noticed, of course, was that all the stories I read involved presumed guys turning into girls and realizing they were trans girls all along. Or maybe I just pretended not to notice.

Thinking about it, what happened to me really wasn’t all that different. I thought I was a sad dude and hated myself and a magical accident gave me a form I subconsciously really wanted. And I realized I actually liked this and–

 

Oh gosh, I was trans. How did I not realize? I went with a new name and she/her pronouns now and loved this clearly female body, being back in this old body gave me incredible dysphoria and this was what it took for me to realize that – yup, all those things made me trans. I was such a fool. Ghost of Denial Past, if you were out there somewhere, good job, I learned my lesson. But I’d really love it if I could get out of this dysphoria hell now.

 

As if on cue, the hospital scene evaporated from my eyes, turning into a swirl of colors before they all mixed into a blinding white. I blinked a few times, trying to get used to this, when a new scene started materializing before my eyes, colors slowly being filled in.

I was on my way back from school, and walking next to me was Cadence. Judging from how she looked, we were probably around ten years old at the time. Just then, the body I was inhabiting – even this ten-year-old’s body gave me dysphoria, so I preferred to think of it that way rather than as my body – had a coughing fit, and Cadence stopped in her tracks to make sure I was alright. After ensuring her that things were fine and it was just an isolated fit, we went on our way through the suburbs, and I could see many familiar landmarks which brought back childhood memories. I could see Cadence stealing some nervous glances at me, and I would be making sure there wasn’t anything weird on my face if this dream wasn’t automated. Eventually, she stopped and faced me. “Hey, Jacob…” That wasn’t really who I was but I couldn’t blame her, I didn’t know back then either. “So…” She looked down at her feet. “I was just curious… since I trust you a lot…” Oh gosh. It was this memory. “Do you ever just…” Okay, I get it, Ghost, you can put away the sledgehammer now. “Do you ever just wish you were a girl? Sorry if this is weird…”

 

Yup there we go, a memory I have long forgotten about but that explained so many things. The person I was viewing this from, blissfully ignorant, didn’t know what this meant, of course. “Oh, yeah, so do I. Guess that’s just how it is for boys. Girls have it so much better…” Oh, you sweet summer children.

 

And so, past me and past Cadence spent the rest of the way home talking about how cool it would be to be a girl, and as much as I wanted to just scream “You’re trans! You are girls!” at the top of my lungs, I unfortunately was nothing but a visitor in this memory.

After an agonizingly long trip home, filled with the both of us being the biggest eggs imaginable, Cadence arrived at her home, a simple single-family house that utterly failed to stand out amongst a street full of simple single-family houses. And then, the scene swirled together, leaving me in the white void once again.

It made sense, really. Both Cadence and I were trans, and since we were each other’s only outlets for those feelings we just thought that it was normal for all boys to feel that way. We were dang fools, but if nothing else, this dream made me realize that. I was expecting the Ghost of Denial Past to finally show themselves, lecturing me about how they hoped I’d learned a lesson from this or whatever, but instead I just woke up without much fanfare.

 

Cadence

When I woke up, I felt restrained and unable to move. Immediately, my fight-or-flight instincts kicked in and I started to panic, but then I felt a soft breath on my neck and remembered where I was. I could feel soft arms hugging around my body and long legs wrapped around my shorter legs. I remembered the past day, including going to sleep with Phoebe, and relaxed, simply taking in her warm embrace, feeling her gentle snores tickling the back of my neck.

I could’ve tried wiggling out of the embrace, hopefully without waking her up. That seemed feasible, at least, considering my new height. But at the same time, being like this, completely embraced by my friend? It felt safe and comfortable, and I really didn’t want this to end any sooner than it had to. I readjusted my posture slightly so I could relax more easily, and dozed back into a blissful rest.

 

I only woke up again when I noticed shifting around my body and felt a hand gently stroking through my hair. Phoebe had stopped embracing me, I was finally free, and yet, being a groggy mess, I wanted nothing more than to return to my figurative captivity. But despite my struggles, I was soon fully released. Freedom had never been so bitter. “Phoeeebeeeee…” I tried to complain, but just from that one word I wasn’t sure if she would actually understand my intentions.

“Sorry, sleepyhead, but I think we should get up now.” I could hear her chuckle to herself, and gosh, what a sweet voice. I turned around and sat up on the bed, not without the necessary grumbling, of course, and looked back at my friend. A good night’s rest had made me forget how pretty she was, and gosh, seeing her like this brought all those feelings back. Her sleepy emerald eyes that were focused on me and only me at the moment, her messy yet beautiful hair that I had to stop myself from immediately trying to ruffle, her ears that occasionally twitched slightly, picking up small sounds from beyond the room… Being alone with her like this made me pick up on all those small details that I only subconsciously noticed before. She looked beautiful, and I couldn’t help but feel myself blush again.

 

She propped herself up on her elbow and moved her body to sit against the wall. “So I had this dream,” she reminisced, “and it made me realize that I think we’re trans? Like, we both thought we were male and yet we were both so eager to go by new names and stuff, y’know?”

“Huh.” What she said was reasonable, and I couldn’t help but agree. It’s not like who I was as a person had really changed. And I definitely didn’t want to go back to being a guy, or to being Sam. The whole transformation had certainly accelerated me coming to that conclusion, but I certainly didn’t feel like it caused it. “Yeah, that makes sense, actually,” I agreed. 

Sitting there in silence for a while, we were trying to process this realization. We both just kind of speedran transition. Or, more accurately, we skipped it altogether.

In hindsight, I had no clue on how I hadn’t realized this earlier. I felt so much better like this, everything felt… clearer. As if the static crackling over the screen I was watching my life through suddenly vanished. I could only imagine that Phoebe felt similarly. She certainly seemed more upbeat than ever before.

I hopped off the bed from under the sheets, adjusting my makeshift nightgown. “I think we should get up now, as much as I’d like to stay in bed with you.” I could see her blushing a little at that comment. Hehe. Cute. “I’ll go get showered and dressed, alright?” She let out a long sigh, then grumpily turned to me. “Alright…”

I opened the closet, taken aback by how empty it was. It made sense, of course, Kara had only gotten one set of clothes for each of us for the time being. But it just felt wrong, seeing all this empty space. I realized that we should get that filled up as soon as possible.

 

I grabbed the clearly smaller pile of clothes in there and went to the bathroom Kara had shown us yesterday. She said we should use it as if it were ours, but I still couldn’t help but feel like an intruder. I placed the clothes on the ground and searched around for clean towels, finding a stack of them under the sink.

Triumphantly looking up from my successful haul, I met eyes with myself in my mirror. Just as I’d forgotten how pretty Phoebe looked overnight, seeing this face look back at me also surprised me a little bit. Not just any face, but my face. I wasn’t sure if I would call myself pretty – I could tell that I was rather cute, sure, I knew that much, but I didn’t feel the same way about this as I did about my friend. No, this just felt right in some very comforting way. Like there had never been a moment in my life when these big eyes hadn’t looked back at me in the mirror. Those big eyes, that cute nose, the inviting smile, all topped off with the mouse ears that perfectly tied everything together somehow. They were big and round and sure, wearing hats would be a pain now, but they just felt so right.

My face was pretty, huh? I still didn’t feel about it like I did about Phoebe, but yeah, it was pretty just the same. Seeing my own face, and thinking it was pretty… that was a new sensation alright.

At the same time, I could tell my hair needed some serious attention. How would I even go about taming this wild beast hanging from my scalp? Gosh, I had so much to learn. I probably had to use conditioner or something? And a comb? But maybe that was completely wrong, too.

 

I threw off my old shirt, not really caring about it much now that I’d grown out of it – although in a different direction than usual – and went into the shower. It took me a few tries to figure out how to best operate it, both freezing and boiling myself in the process, but I finally managed to set it to a comfortable temperature. The water running down my body made me incredibly aware of how different it felt, more than anything else so far. I could feel every inch of it, every curve. I grabbed what looked like a bottle of body wash from the shower floor, apologizing to Kara in my head and making a mental checklist to buy all that stuff as soon as possible, and went to getting myself cleaned.

As I spread the body wash over my body, I became acutely aware of how much more sensitive certain parts were. I definitely had to exercise some caution around my chest area from now on. My boobs didn’t take too kindly to the pressure I instinctively applied. That being said, running my hands over this new, smooth body felt infinitely better than… what I had before. I didn’t even really want to think about my old body.

As my hands went further down the body and towards my crotch, I noticed something that I probably should’ve realized way earlier. I still had my dick. After some inspection, I found that my balls were gone, but my penis was still there, albeit smaller, more delicate. If I was being honest, I didn’t really mind it. The fact that I hadn’t noticed it all day probably was proof enough of that. It just felt… normal to me. Thinking of having facial hair or a deep voice or lacking boobs or even having balls all made me incredibly uncomfortable, and yet my penis was absolutely fine with me. I had to find some way to ask Kara about that, although having to bring that up would also be incredibly uncomfortable. I couldn’t just waltz up to her and ask, “Why do I still have my dick?” after all.

After finishing up with my legs and marveling at their smoothness and their softer, rounder shape in general, I had to think about what to do with my hair. For now, I hoped that just letting enough water run through it would be adequate, but I was very much aware that I should get myself informed sooner rather than later.

With my hair thoroughly soaked, I got out of the shower, feeling incredibly rejuvenated. Part of me felt like it could take on the world! But another part of me knew that I was completely naked right now, so getting dressed was a priority. I grabbed the towel I’d retrieved earlier and started getting myself dry, making sure to be gentler around my chest. If nothing else, I was capable of learning from my mistakes. Then I moved on to getting clothed, praying to… something, or someone, that the sizes were somewhat accurate. I trusted Kara, of course, she’d been great, but she did kind of wing the measurements. The underwear was plain and grey, and while the panties fit surprisingly well, if a little snugly around the crotch, I had issues getting my bra on. After a few minutes of experimenting, I figured out a way of putting them on that definitely wasn’t intended. It felt a little too tight, and so I made a mental note of needing to get that measured. How would I even go about that? Could I just ask an attendant? Would they think it weird if I asked that, being way over the ‘getting my first bra’-age? I filed those thoughts away for later.

The socks were simple, white socks that fit perfectly – I wasn’t sure if it was even possible for socks not to fit you. Next were jeans that were a little long, and putting them on I could tell they felt different on my legs. Not too tight, just… not as loose. As I put it on, I realized that my tail might make dresses difficult. I could tell already with my old t-shirt, of course, but longer dresses might be impossible. Thankfully, these jeans didn’t reach high enough to be much of an issue. It bent my tail a little bit, making it go up first, but it worked surprisingly well.

As I unfolded the cyan shirt, I couldn’t help but let out a groan. It was illustrated with an illustration of a little gray mouse nibbling away at cheese. It was cute, sure, but… gosh, Kara, not being very subtle, are we? You could at least have gotten the mouse’s color right, my ears were clearly brown! I had some trouble getting it on through my hair, but all in all, it fit pretty well. It was even loose enough around my back that my tail could comfortably hang out from under it. It felt really good seeing myself in clothes that actually fit me somewhat. It looked cheesy, for sure, what with the mouse shirt, but I didn’t really care. I was me, and I looked like a pretty girl.

 

When I got back to our room, Phoebe was thankfully kind enough not to make a stupid comment at my shirt, but I could tell that she was holding back a chuckle. And I couldn’t blame her, it was pretty funny. I’d have to figure out some way to get back at Kara for that. What did surprise me was her slight blush once she got a better look at me. “Gosh, you’re cute…” I normally would likely not have been able to hear her mumbling that under her breath, but my bigger ears probably increased the sensitivity of my hearing to some extent? Either way, it made me blush in response, and when Phoebe gathered from my reaction that I’d heard her, her face only got redder. It fit her… she rarely managed to express anything that wasn’t incredibly surface-level, so seeing her carrying some emotions on her sleeve was nice. Also, her red cheeks fit with her black hair and ears. Gosh, those ears, just nervously flicking around constantly right now…

“I-I’ll get ready, too!” she stammered, making a dash for the door before realizing she forgot her clothes and making the walk of shame back to the closet. Her clothes held in front of her chest, she ran towards the door again. “Towels are under the sink!” I shouted after her, but I doubt she heard me. Although her hearing might have improved as well? So maybe she did.

Having the bedroom to myself, I jumped onto the bed, looking at the white ceiling, thinking of how many times I’d wished for something like this, a body like this, only to immediately shoot those thoughts down. I couldn’t help but chuckle at all those moments I was jealous of girls just for… being girls, or when I thought I was attracted to a girl when in reality I just wanted to look like her. Speaking of, I knew instinctively that I was still into girls. Imagining myself in a relationship with a guy felt iffy to me, whereas cuddling with another girl? Kissing her? That made my heart flutter like crazy. Guess I was likely a lesbian, then. It felt strange, calling myself that, but after some thinking about it, it fit pretty well. I was a woman who loved women! I couldn’t help but grin at that. I loved girls! I wanted to scream that out into the world. I was so happy. This was me. A lesbian, trans mousegirl. A cute lesbian, trans mousegirl.

 

After a while, Phoebe returned. My first thought was “Gosh, she’s pretty!”

My second thought was “Gosh dangit, Kara!” Phoebe’s pink shirt had a big stylized “:3” on it, complete with whiskers and cat ears. Not to say it didn’t still look good. She looked amazing, even. I loved how her long legs looked, and her pants accentuated that. I loved her slender, strong, yet soft arms. I wanted them to hold me, like she’d done yesterday. I was still incredibly in love with her ears, and the absent-minded swishing of her tail. I adored how when she instinctively stretched a little, I could see parts of her tum under her shirt.

All in all, with my new realization that I was a lesbian? I was feeling gay as heck. I was so busy being gay that I didn’t even get to laugh at the silly shirt. Well, I did giggle a little. But I mostly marveled at how pretty my friend was.

Noticing me just staring at her, Phoebe seemed to look a little uncomfortable, her ears sinking down. “Do I look okay? I hope the shirt isn’t too silly…”

I immediately became all too aware that I’d been staring at her for around half a minute. I vehemently affirmed her. “No, no, you look amazing! So amazing that I was speechless…” I added that last part a lot less vehemently, feeling my face heat up as I did so. Hearing that, her nervous smile became a lot more confident and her ears perked right up. And gosh, was I glad to see that smile. It made her eyes shine in a beautiful green. I just smiled right back, hoping I was even half as radiant as her.

Sorry for the wait! Between university starting again and me starting another project like a genius, I haven't had as much time as I'd ideally like to work on this. That being said, this is a little longer and more sapphic so I hope it makes up for it.

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