What You Needed by Lily_Rasputin

Content Warning: Suicidal thoughts

The ambush came as I walked into my bedroom, having just taken a shower.

I was supposed to have the place to myself. I’d asked my older sister, Stacy, multiple times if she planned on using our family’s beach house over the holiday weekend. Her response had always been the same.

“I’ve got other plans that weekend.”

So, I’d made the three-hour trip alone, eager to have three days of no one around so that I could practice being myself. My true self.

The A/C in my Honda was on the fritz, so by the time I got to the house and unpacked my luggage, I was a stinky, sweaty mess in desperate need of a shower. Which was okay, since I also needed to do some shaving.

Once, while I was bent over under the spray, carefully running the razor up the side of my leg, I could have sworn I heard a door outside the bathroom close. However, when no other sounds followed it, I chalked it up to just my imagination.

I discovered my mistake when I walked into my bedroom, clad in only a towel that was wrapped very femininely around my torso, and saw my sister sitting on the bed. That would have been just surprising and annoying, except for the fact that there were two other girls, both total strangers to me, in the room with her.

I blinked, pausing in mid-stride to stare at my sister, who wore a serious expression on her face. “What the hell, Stacy? You said you weren’t coming here this weekend. You said you had other plans.”

My pretty sibling nodded her head. “I do. And they involve you.”

Confused and still rightly pissed off, I pointed at the other two girls. “Who are they? What plans could the three of you have that involve me?”

Stacy tilted her head slightly to the side, then moved a few feet to the left on the bed, revealing the suitcase that I had left sitting there when I’d gone into the bathroom. I noticed that it had been opened, instantly quenching my fury with a triple dose of fear, panic, and embarrassment.

Picking up on the shift in my temperament, Stacy pointed at one of the girls, a tall brunette who seemed like she didn’t share my sister’s enthusiasm with whatever scheme was in the works.

“That’s Monica,” Stacy said before pointing at the other girl. “And that’s Amy.”

The raven-haired girl, Amy, lifted her hand to wave. “Nice to meet you, Terry. We’ve heard all about you.”

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat as I looked back at the suitcase on the bed. Normally, it lived in the very back of my closet, beneath a few boxes positioned so that it wouldn’t be exactly easy to retrieve. The contents inside were not for anyone’s eyes but my own.

“What have you heard?” I managed to ask, bringing my gaze back to Stacy.

She sighed. “Terry, can we drop the charade? I know, okay?”

The temperature of my blood dropped another five degrees. “You know what?”

Another sigh passed between her lips as she looked at her friends for a moment before looking back at me. “I know that you are transgender.”

I blanched, my warm cheeks igniting in a conflagration that seemed to roast my face from chin to freshly plucked eyebrows. I shook my head, grabbing the top of the towel with one hand as I turned to the other two girls.

“I’m not! I don’t know what she’s been telling you two, but I am not like … that.” The crack in my voice simply reinforced my false denial.

Stacy shook her head. “I’ve known for almost two years, Terry. Or did you think I wasn’t smart enough to notice when someone had been in my makeup when I was at sleepovers or had been pawing through my clothing? Since it wasn’t likely to be Mom or Dad, that left only you.”

I bit down on my lip, shame at having been discovered long ago tearing at me. “I … no.” I shook my head and then pointed at Monica and Amy. “So, what? Is this revenge for me messing with your stupid stuff? You figured you’d bring your damned bitch friends down here and catch me off guard while you accuse me of being some kind of freak?”

I saw Monica stiffen out of the corner of my eye. Stacy, however, simply stood up, took two steps toward me, then slapped me across the face. The impact stung my pride more than my cheek, but it still served to bring tears to my eyes.

“We came here to help you, Terry.” She shook her head. “If I wanted to humiliate you, I would have simply put the pictures I have online for the whole world to see.”

My free hand, which had been on the way to rub at my injured cheek, paused in mid-trip. “Pictures?”

She pulled out her phone and turned it so that I could see the screen. There, in full digital color, was an image of me in my bedroom back home. I was dressed in a set of purple lingerie and wearing a wig of glossy brown curls. I hadn’t applied any makeup at all, which meant there was no denying I was the person in the image.

“I have a hundred of these. When I realized that you were likely to fight back against my idea, I decided a little insurance was needed.”

“Stacy,” Monica said in a near whisper, “maybe we should press pause for a moment.”

My sister, however, would not be dissuaded. “Absolutely not. This is happening. Right now.” There was a firmness in her voice that I immediately recognized. It was her ‘no negotiation’ voice. Once Stacy broke out that tone, the conversation was over as far as she was concerned.

“What do you want?” I asked.

She gave me a smile that might have been friendly in intent but seemed like the grin of a barracuda to me. The hand not holding her phone came up, something thin and pink in its grip.

“Put this on. Then get dressed for going down to the beach.”

I didn’t have to ask what exactly she meant by getting dressed. However, I managed to give her a tight smile as I nodded at the suitcase.

“I didn’t pack a bathing suit.”

It was true. There were all types of feminine attire in the luggage. None, though, fit the bill for a beach excursion. Since I never dared to go outside as a female, the cost of buying a bathing suit took a back seat to the purchase of something more likely to get worn.

Stacy’s grin widened. “Not to worry, sis,” she said in a sing-song tone. “I’ve got you covered. Amy?”

The other girl stepped forward, pulling a black plastic bag from behind her back. She handed it to me with a little amused grin before moving to stand next to Stacy.

I opened the bag and peered inside. The object inside was soft and pink and most definitely not what any male would dare be seen in public wearing.

“You’re joking.”

Stacy shook her head. “I’m not, actually.” She waved the pink strap in her hand at me. “Now, take this and that bag and put them on. I want to get down to the beach in time to enjoy most of the day.”

“I’m not going to do it,” I said, even though I felt zero conviction about my statement.

“You will. Or I’m blasting those photos to every social media account I have.”

“Why are you doing this?” I whined, hoping the pathetic tone of my voice might get through to her.

“Call it tough love.” Then, her face softened just a bit. “Because, believe it or not, I do love you. And you need this.”

She turned to look at Monica and nodded her head. The brunette sighed and walked toward the door. As she passed by, she gave me an extremely apologetic look and whispered. “I’m sorry in advance.”

Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to consider the meaning behind her words. Stacy grabbed my free hand and slapped the leather strap in my palm and closed my fingers around it.

“Tick-tock, sis. Don’t take too long or else your phone is going to start blowing up like crazy.”

She returned the glare I shot at her and then walked out of the room with Amy right on her heels. Pausing at the threshold, she turned back to look at me. “Put the choker on first.” Then she closed the door.

“Put the choker on first,” I mimicked back in a furious, albeit weak, voice.

I went over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, my hands full of the items I’d been given. I set the pink leather strap, apparently the choker, down on the covers and opted to see what humiliation I was supposed to don for a trip down to the waves.

The bikini I pulled out of the bag was pink and teal with a white floral pattern. Despite the heat that immediately coursed through my cheeks at the thought of wearing it, I couldn’t help but admit Stacy had great taste. If I’d ever gotten around to selecting a bathing suit of my own, this was exactly the color and style I would have chosen.

If she was going to humiliate me, which I was fairly certain was her endgame, regardless of what she claimed, at least it would be in an extremely cute suit. Curious, I searched the bathing suit for the tag and stared at the size printed on the label. It was a number much smaller than anything else I owned.

“How the hell am I supposed to fit into this?” I wondered aloud.

In addition to the bathing suit, the bag also contained a pair of hot-pink nylon shorts and a pair of black flip-flops.

Sighing, I tossed the clothing on the bed and picked up the choker.

It was a deep pink color, with a width of about one inch. It looked like leather but was much softer. As I turned it over in my hands, I marveled at the warmth that seemed to actually radiate from it, along with a tingling sensation akin to placing my hand on a vibrating piece of machinery.

One side was completely smooth, while the other had a small etching in the center of the band. Leaning closer, I realized it was the female symbol. I ran my thumb over the icon, causing the hairs on my arm to stand up.

I knew, instinctively, that this wasn’t some ordinary bauble. It might look like just a cute necklace, but I was sure beyond all doubt, it was more than met the eye.

I also could not resist taking each end in a hand and bringing the object up to my throat.

“No,” I breathed as I willed my limbs to return control to me. “What’s going on?”

Of course, there was no answer. No revelation. Instead, I merely stared at my reflection in the mirror and watched helplessly, my heart rate skyrocketing, as my rebellious hands pulled the choker around my neck and fastened the clasp at the back.

As soon as the audible sound of the snap closing was heard, I yanked my hands away, regaining control of them. Unfortunately, any plan I had to attempt to remove the thing was derailed by a flare of boiling heat that exploded throughout my nervous system.

My mouth opened, but every muscle in my body responded to the shock by freezing, and the only sound that managed to escape between my parted lips was a low-pitched, whining groan.

I fell back onto the bed as my eyes rolled back and I began to shake. My first instinct was that I was having some sort of epileptic fit or seizure. Then the pain scorching my nerves turned into a wave of agony that ripped through my torso and limbs. It felt as if I were being pulled apart and forcibly compacted at the same time.

Tears turned my vision blurry, and it seemed as if the pain and heat were never going to end. At least, not before it finally killed me. I could hear my pulse whooshing through my ears, and practically feel my bones twisting and snapping. Probably from the force of the seizure.

Then, just when I was positive I was going to die the worst possible death imaginable … I orgasmed with the power of a thousand porn stars.

The blossoming burst of euphoria immediately extinguished the conflagration rolling through my body, quenching my agony and making me cry out loud in a voice my ears didn’t recognize. The wave of pleasure seemed to be just as powerful as the pain it chased away, overwhelming my senses and taking me to the limits of my soul. My fingers curled tightly in the covers, and I arched my back off the mattress, crying out again.

There was one last blast of sexual gratification, which was immediately followed by my collapsing back down on the bed. I think I blacked out for a few seconds. When I finally regained my senses, I discovered that there was no trace of the torment that had so recently ripped through me.

“What the fuck?” My breathing was ragged and screaming had obviously done a number on my throat, given the soft, breathy pitch in my voice.

Even through the euphoric haze saturating my brain, I could tell something had changed. Slowly, I opened my eyes and pushed myself upright onto one arm. The action resulted in an unfamiliar weight pulling at my chest as a cascade of golden blonde hair fell over the left half of my face, partially obscuring my vision.

I froze, staring at the world through a thick curtain of hair. Reaching up, I pushed it out of my face as I glanced downward. The tilting of my head sent the choker, which was no longer fastened tightly around my throat, falling away to bounce off my left breast.

Breasts. Plural.

In addition to a brand-new mane of silky tresses, I apparently now owned a pair of perky, seemingly real, breasts that looked a lot larger than the silicone forms that were stuffed into a compartment inside the suitcase. The nipples were hard, though if that was from the air conditioning or my recent erotic experience, I didn’t know.

Being who I was, and what I’d been living with for the past few years, I had, of course, partaken of more than my fair share of transformational fiction. Movies, books, short stories, internet websites, and cartoons. And in each instance, I’d snorted with wry amusement at the way the former boy had almost immediately groped his new assets.

However, it seemed that I owed every author guilty of describing that ritual an apology. Because the first thing I did was cup both of them in my hands and give them a little squeeze.

“Holy fuck. This … this can’t be happening.”

From the breathy lilt in my voice, and the wonderful tingling sensation coming from the globes of flesh in my hands, it most certainly was happening. Or had happened.

I scrambled off the bed, and stumbled toward the closet on shaky, post-orgasmic legs. Grabbing the knob, I pulled open the door and stared into the full-length mirror affixed to the inside.

The girl staring back at me was pretty, if not beautiful. It was doubtful she would ever grace the cover of Glamour or Cosmo. However, she was certainly cute enough to turn heads. I could see the traces of me, sort of, in her features.

Our eyes were the same shade of blue-green they had always been, a genetic trait inherited from my father. However, rather than dull dirty-blonde locks, she possessed the same shade of honey-gold hair as my mother. My mouth was smaller, the lips fuller, and my formerly squarish nose had become more like Stacy's. Smaller with just the barest hint of an upturn.

It was also abundantly clear I'd lost some of my height, though I'd not exactly been tall as a boy. I tried to guess my new stature based against the closet door. Without a more precise measuring tool, I assumed that I was now three inches shorter, putting me at a comfortable five feet, four inches. Comfortable for a girl, that is.

As a male, I'd been a little on the heavier side. Not obese, but certainly along that path. After all, I didn't play any sports and the one time I'd gone to the gym, I'd been so envious of the attractive women that I had felt like a creeper as I couldn't stop admiring their forms. Rather than get caught and kicked out for being a pervert, I opted to just not go back.

The girl in the mirror was slender, with just enough padding to give her youthful curves. Unable to stop myself, I turned to the side and let out a little gasp when I noticed her rear was, in my opinion, damned near perfect.

That thought slammed into me, and I turned back around to look at myself again. Really look at myself.

"Holy ... holy shit,” I stammered, my new eyes going wide. “I'm ... I'm ... my dream self."

It was true. Every time I'd daydreamed about being transformed, either through magic or super science, I'd held the same image in mind. The mental description of what that new girl would look like, from her hair down to her toes. Now, looking at the reflection comically gaping back at me, I realized that specific girl was who I had become.

I took a deep breath and examined my whole self.

Long hair? Check?

Feminine face and voice? Check..

Pert ass? Check!

Bouncing boobs? Check! Check!

Vagina?

Facing the mirror, I looked at my crotch. There is a monumental difference in the groin’s appearance between tucked and untucked. I could see now that there was almost as big a difference between being tucked and having the correct equipment.

I reached down and found my labia, still slightly damp from my adventure on the bed. The little patch of golden hair just above was trimmed closely and shaved narrow enough to hide behind even the skimpiest of bikinis. I moved my finger around and up, letting out a surprised gasp when my much longer nail encountered the hidden pearl there.

“Vagina?” I said to the girl who currently looked like she was fingering herself. “Definite check!”

A knock at the door, followed by the turning of the knob sent me spinning away from the mirror with a loud gasp as I brought my hands up to cover myself. A second later, the door opened, and Monica walked into the room.

Her eyes widened a bit when she saw me, but if she were surprised to see that I had transformed, it didn’t show on her face.

She carried a red Solo cup in one hand, her eyes widening a bit when she saw me. However, if she were surprised to see that I had changed, it didn’t register on her face.

“I hope it’s okay if I come in. I wanted to see how you were doing. With…everything.”

I sputtered, then laughed humorlessly. “How am I doing? Seriously? I’ve just gone from shopping in the men’s section to peeing sitting down. I’m … good?” I leaned to the side, noticing the uneasy shift in my new center of gravity. “Where are Stacy and Amy?”

“They went down to the beach to get us a good spot and put up the umbrella,” she replied.

“Figures,” I said with a shake of my head that sent the blonde curtain falling back into place. “She throws my being trans in my face, turns me into a girl, then decides to hit the waves while I’m dealing with the existential shift of a lifetime.”

Monica flashed me an apologetic smile. “I told them to go on ahead and let me be the one to explain things to you.” She paused and shrugged. “Besides, I think they should enjoy a bit of alone time while they can get it.”

“Alone time?” I asked, the implication cutting through my own situation. “Wait. Are you saying that my sister and Amy are …”

She nodded. “For a couple of months now. For the moment, though, let’s focus on you.” She gestured at the new me with her free hand. Then she held the glass out toward me. “Here. It’s orange juice. It’ll help replenish your energy.”

I took the beverage but didn’t immediately drink it. Instead, I looked from her to the girl in the mirror and back. “How? Why?”

Monica’s face took on a pensive expression. “I should probably start with the ‘why’. We did this because you needed it.”

“I needed it?” I echoed, my soft alto voice weighted down with skepticism. Granted, I wasn’t angry about what had been done to me. However, that didn’t mean that I didn’t want some answers.

She nodded. “So, I have a twin brother who is trans. Of course, he hid it from all of us for years. We just thought the short hair and clothing choices were some kind of rebellious phase. A desire to not be a copy of me.”

I started to ask why anyone would think that her brother was her. Then, it hit me. Her brother was a trans man. Which meant he’d once been Monica’s twin … sister.

“We didn’t find out until the night we came home from a family dinner out, one he’d managed to get out of attending, and found him on his bed with several pill bottles scattered around.” She swallowed hard, and I could see tears welling up in her green eyes. “The paramedics were barely able to save him. After that, my parents arranged for him to get therapy to deal with his dysphoria. He made some progress with it, but I knew he was still incredibly unhappy.”

“How?”

A tiny smile appeared for a moment, like the sun quickly peeking from behind dark clouds. “Call it a twin thing. Anyway, I knew for sure he was likely going to try again, and I was desperate to save him. No matter what I had to do.” She looked at me and pointed at the hand not holding the glass. “That’s where the choker came in.”

I glanced down at the leather strap in my other hand. I must have grabbed it when I climbed off the bed to look in the mirror. It, too, had changed. Rather than being pink with the female symbol etched into its surface, it was now colored a dark blue and sported the male symbol. However, it still had that strange sense of power flowing around it.

Magic.

“I joined an internet support group for people who have family members that are trans,” Monica continued. “After I shared my brother’s story and my fears about what he might do, I got a weird message from one of the members. They offered me a way to help my brother.”

I nodded, seeing the rest of the tale falling into place. “So, they sold you this magic choker?”

Monica shook her head. “No. Not sold. It was gifted with a promise. I agreed that I would use it to help Michael, and then I would find someone else who needed its power and help them.”

I looked down at the necklace again. “It turned your brother into the boy he always wanted to be, didn’t it? Now, it’s turned me into …” I brought my gaze back up to the mirror.

Monica smiled at my reflection. “When I met your sister, we became friends almost instantly. She was funny, smart and decisive. However, I could tell she was worried about something. I’d ask but she denied it. Finally, one night when we’d had way too much to drink, I confided in her about my brother. That’s when she told me about her concerns. About you.”

I blinked, turning back to Monica. “Stacy was worried about … me?”

She nodded. “Terry, she knew you weren’t happy being who you appeared to be on the outside. She could tell that being trapped in a body you hated was eating away at you bit by bit. She feared, as I had, that you might try to just end it. End the pain. When I saw how much helping you meant to her, I offered to give her the choker.”

“But why all this … scheming?” I gestured around us. “She could have just told me what she wanted to do. I would have eagerly agreed.”

Monica’s mouth curled into an amused grin. “First of all, have you met your sister? She’s all about the big reveal. Not to mention that hardass persona of hers. Secondly, would you have believed her if she’d cornered you and told you she had a magic necklace that would grant your dreams? You would have thought she was pranking you, right?”

I opened my mouth to refute her words, but found I had nothing to defend myself with. She was right, of course. I wouldn’t have believed Stacy’s claims and the likely fallout would have completely destroyed our relationship.

Not to mention, the false hope coupled with humiliation might have spurred me to follow through with something that had occurred to me more than once over the years.

“Yeah. You’re right. I wouldn’t have believed her.”

Monica reached out and lightly patted me on the shoulder. “I don’t agree with the way she did it, Terry. I think it had too much potential to blow up badly. What if you had refused to give in and called her bluff?”

I let out a little snort of a laugh. With my new voice, it actually sounded kind of cute. “Stacy doesn’t bluff, Monica.”

She nodded. “Exactly. Then she would have sent those pictures, which would have likely pushed you in the wrong direction. I didn’t know she was going to do that, by the way. She only told me that she had a way to convince you to go along. I’m sorry.”

I waved my hand. “It’s okay. I’m sort of used to it by now.” I sighed and looked back over my shoulder at the mirror, making sure not to ogle my new butt too much. “So, what do I do now?”

Monica let out a laugh that brought my attention back to her. “Now? Well, girl, now you put on that totally adorable bikini and take that new bod for a test drive.”

I felt like there was more to discuss about what had happened. But I also couldn’t deny that the prospect of putting on a bathing suit, and have it not look like a man playing dress up, appealed to me beyond measure.

“Oh, yes!” I exclaimed, doing my damnedest not to squeal with excitement.

I failed miserably.

Monica sat down on the edge of the bed while I pulled all the items out of the black plastic bag and put them on the dresser.

“I can look away if you prefer,” she offered with a smile.

“Why?” I asked, giving her a confused look as I picked up the bikini bottoms and turned them around the right way. “Not like I’ve got anything now you haven’t already seen before.”

Her grin widened in a way that made a warm sensation flow through me. “Well, I haven’t seen yours before.”

I swallowed and nodded, then stepped into the legs of the suit and pulled it up. The fit was snug against my less bulgy crotch and the back felt like it was trying to sneak into my crack. I wriggled a bit, trying to get used to the strange feeling.

Yes, this was light-years away from wearing these clothes while having male appendages.

The top was a bit trickier, since it was less sturdy than a bra. I managed to get my boobs into the right spots, but tying the strings around my neck with all the new hair was an absolute pain.

“Let me,” Monica offered, rising from the bed and moving around behind me. “Hold your hair up for a moment.”

I scooped up the mass of silken gold with both hands while she knotted the top into a perfect bow with just a couple of strokes. When I let go, the blonde cascade fluttered down over my shoulders and tickled the top of my breasts.

“Thanks,” I said as I turned back to the mirror. I immediately reached up to grab the top of the bikini with my hands. “Okay. I think Stacy underestimated how generous the magic was going to be with certain parts of my anatomy. I’m about to fall out of this thing and flash everyone.”

Monica laughed. “No, you’re not. It just feels that way. Trust me, we all feel that way. Especially in a new suit.”

I returned the laugh as I slid the nylon shorts up my legs and shoved my much daintier feet into the flip flops. “I guess that even after a few years of wishing and practicing being a girl, I still have a lot to learn.” Holding out my hands, I struck what I hoped was a cute little pose. “How do I look?”

Monica’s eyes didn’t move from my own. “Happy.”

The single word caught me off guard and I immediately felt tears try to well up in my eyes. The sincerity in her voice was eclipsed only by my realization that she was right. At this moment, I was beyond ecstatic.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shook my head. “I mean, do I look ready for my debut?”

“Close. Even though we’re going down to the beach and will likely get soaked, you still should put on a little makeup.” She nodded at the suitcase. “I peeked into your bag earlier. You’ve got some really good stuff in there.”

My face warmed at the compliment. “Well, I figured that if I was ever going to try to pass, I needed something of higher quality than what was at my local drug store.”

She nodded. “Good point. Do you want to try making up your new face?”

I almost said yes. Then I saw the look in her eyes and gave my head a little shake. “Actually, would you mind helping? I don’t want to overdo it since I don’t need to hide beard stubble or anything. Plus, I think I’m too keyed up at the moment to have a steady hand.”

Her smile widened and she nodded her head. “Great!” She turned around and grabbed my suitcase and opened it, unzipping the side compartment to pull out the makeup bag that I’d had delivered to our elderly neighbors to mitigate the risk of my parents finding it first.

 I sat down on the edge of the bed, my pulse quickening, while Monica put the bag on the dresser and began pulling items from inside.

“This is going to be my first makeover!” I blurted out. “I was never brave enough to get it done anywhere back home. Too big of a chance of someone who knew me finding out.”

Monica laughed. “Well, I’m far from a professional, Terri. But I’ll do my best.”

I could actually hear the “i” replacing the “y” and another swell of warm giddiness rolled through me. In all my daydreams of living as a girl, I’d cycled through dozens of names. While I’d really liked some of them, none had seemed to just have that quality of ringing true.

Terri, though, with an ‘i’, seemed beyond perfect.

Monica moved slightly behind me and gathered up my hair on top of my head, securing it with a bright-green banana clip. Then she picked up the mascara wand and leaned down so that her face was level with mine.

“Look up, please.”

I nodded and glanced up at the ceiling so she could go about lengthening and thickening my already longer lashes.

“I spent hundreds of hours learning as many tips and tricks as I could,” I told her as she finished one eye and went to work on the other. “It’s not easy to learn how to not look like a clown. Or a drag queen.”

She nodded. “You know what we should do? Tomorrow, let’s go get you a mani-pedi. I bet you’ve always wanted one of those.”

I laughed. “Yes, I have. I could never do more than clear polish on my fingernails. And I only painted my toes in the dead of winter.” I held out one hand and looked at the slender fingers and the rounded nails that extended just a hair past the tips of my fingers. It was all too easy to imagine them polished a bright pink or crystal blue color. Something vibrant and bold.

Then it was all too easy to imagine having to hide it all again later. The crash of despair made me sigh loudly.

Monica, eyeliner in hand, stopped moving. “What’s wrong?”

I bit down on my lip. “Nothing.” I tried to look her in the eye but ended up glancing down at my unpainted toes. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

“I was just thinking about how great this is. It is really great, by the way. I’m just worried about being able to go back to how it was when the weekend is over.”

She gave me a curious look. “What are you talking about? Are you saying you want to go back to having a boy’s body?” There was no hiding the confusion, and hurt, in her voice. “I mean, do you regret putting on the choker?”

My mouth dropped open and I shook my head. “No! But … I can’t go back home like this.” I gestured at my noticeable bosom. “My parents will freak out. Everyone who knows me will freak out.”

Monica put the cap back on the eyeliner and moved to sit next to me. “This wasn’t a one weekend thing, Terri. Not if you don’t want it to be.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, willing myself not to cry. When I opened them again, I turned to face her. “It’s permanent? I’m not going to wake up Monday morning and find I’m me again?”

She gave me a frown. “You’re you now, Terri.” She lightly poked me in the center of my chest. “This is the inside you brought to the outside.” Her finger then pointed at the choker. “If you put that on again in the next seventy-two hours, the magic will reverse.”

“You mean I can use it to switch back and forth?” The idea of having to spend most of my time as Terry wasn’t a pleasant thought. But, if I got the opportunity to be Terri every now and then, it might be bearable.

“No. If you use it to turn back into your male self, you’ll never be able to use it again. It’s sort of a one-time thing.”

I sighed. “Well, that sucks.”

Monica stared at me for a moment. “Why would you want to change back? I mean, what are you feeling that makes you even consider it?”

“Because I’m not the me that everyone expects me to be. I can’t just roll up in this body and even begin to explain things to everyone who knows that Terry is a boy.”

She fought to contain her grin. However, it was a futile attempt and the little snicker that escaped from between her pursed lips made my anguish over the situation even worse.

“The magic does more than just bring your true self to the outside, Terri. It brings it to life.” She leaned her shoulder against my arm. “The only people who remember that Michael wasn’t always a boy is me. Our parents, grandparents, friends, former classmates. All of them think we have always been fraternal twins, rather than identical.”

“What?” I tried wrapping my head around the concept of how powerful something like that must be.

She nodded. “Even his birth certificate changed. And school records.”

“That’s impossible,” I said, still resisting against the dare of hope.

“That’s the truth,” she countered. “If you decide not to put that choker back on, you will return home as Terri. The same Terri that everyone now remembers you being.”

“Nothing is powerful enough to rewrite history,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, never mind altering the memories of hundreds of people, we’re talking huge amounts of data that would need to be manipulated.”

Monica laughed. “I’m not any sort of expert when it comes to the limits of magical items. But I can guess that it was harder to alter your body on the genetic level than it is to change a ‘y’ to an ‘i’ and an ‘M’ to an ‘F’ a few hundred times.”

When she was done with my makeup, I looked to see that the cute girl from before was now beautiful. Maybe still not a model, but definitely pretty. I must have spent too long staring at my reflection because Monica cleared her throat and laughed.

“Come on, Terri. There’ll be plenty of time to gaze upon your beauty later. Not that it’s not worth gazing upon.”

She gave me a smile that made my insides flutter wildly, then turned and walked out of the bedroom.

I followed her through the living room into the kitchen.

“Oh. You’re going to need these.” She reached over and grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the counter. They were white, with little pink flowers at the corners. A perfect match to my ensemble.

“Thanks,” I said, slipping them onto my face.

“You look like an incognito celebrity.”

I giggled and playfully tapped her on the arm. “Stop it. I do not.”

She merely flashed me a coy grin and grabbed her own eye protection.

When we crossed to the back door, I froze as my pulse quickened in an instant. My hand, resting on the knob, began to sweat. Taking a deep breath, I glanced over at Monica.

"I'm terrified," I confessed, turning to look through the windows at the crowded beach not fifty yards away. "What if someone sees me and knows?"

Her hand came up to cover her mouth as she giggled softly. "Knows what? That you are a gorgeous young girl who looks incredible in that bikini? Trust me, Terri, they are definitely going to see that."

When I didn't immediately respond, or open the door, she put her hand on my back and rubbed lightly.

"I get it. It's scary going out the first time as your real self. I'm sure you imagined all sorts of terrible results every time you considered it before. Putting your true self out into the world is terrifying. Whether you're the product of magic, or practice." The hand stopped on my shoulder, resting comfortingly. "You've been given a gift, girl. It would be a shame to not at least stick your toe in the water and see how it feels."

I opened my mouth, but realized I couldn’t argue against her logic. "I guess you're right.”

"If it gets too much, we'll come back here and spend the rest of the day watching bad reality television and braiding each other's hair. Deal?"

I drew in a breath, held it for a moment, then released it with a sigh. One not of resignation, but determination. After all, Monica was right. I'd been given a gift thousands of girls like me would sell their souls to receive. If I refused to use it to live the life I'd dreamed about living since I was seven, I would be doing all of them a disservice.

"Okay. I'll do my best."

She gave me a one-armed hug. "That's all anyone can ask."

The heat of the day slapped me in the face the second we stepped out onto the wooden deck at the rear of the house. Fortunately, by the time we'd crossed over to the steps leading down to the dunes, the breeze coming off the ocean provided some small measure of cooling. It wasn't enough to stop beads of perspiration from forming on my forehead and chest. I glanced down, then looked at Monica and giggled.

"Guess I get to have my first underboob sweat experience along with all the other firsts."

She laughed. "Oh, you're going to get to experience the whole girl package, Terri. The good, the bad, and the crampy. But at least you got to skip female puberty. So, count that as a plus."

We strolled along the path between the head-high dunes, their seagrass strands vibrantly green against the light brown of the sand. When we emerged onto the beach, I saw the gigantic neon-yellow umbrella just ahead.

As we got closer, Amy saw us approaching. Reaching over, she tapped Stacy on the shoulder. My sister pushed herself up from where she’d been lying on her stomach onto her feet and walked toward us. Even with the dark glasses covering her eyes, I could see the surprised pleasure in them as she looked at the new me.

The smile that spread across her face, the smile I'd come to know with affection my whole life, chased away any butterflies of despair.

"Wow! You look incredible, Terry." She tilted her head slightly to the side as she regarded me. "Or do you want to go by another name?"

"Terri works," I said, returning her smile. "But Terri with an ‘i’."

She nodded. "Perfect."

I started to say something else, but before the words could form, I saw twin droplets roll out from beneath her sunglasses and down her cheeks. My heart swelled with love and gratitude, and I launched myself across the two feet of distance between us to embrace my older sibling in a massive hug.

"Thank you," I said, pressing my cheek against her breast. "Thank you so much."

I heard her breath hitch slightly, followed by that bubbling exhale that only came when she was crying. "I was so scared that you were going to do something before I could help you. When I realized that you wanted to come here alone, I was afraid that ..." She hiccuped again and squeezed me tightly against her.

I nodded and looked her in the eyes. "I had thought about it. Lots of times," I paused, swallowing hard. "But I'm happy now. So very happy."

She laughed and kissed me on the top of my head. "And it makes me so happy to finally give you what you needed.”

Stacy peeled me off her, used her hands to wipe her eyes, then looked from me to Monica. "Come on, Moni. Let's show my new little sister just how much fun a group of girls can have at the beach."

She turned and started back toward where Amy sat waiting for us. As Monica and I followed, I felt the other girl's hand slip into mine and squeeze lightly. I glanced over at her and smiled.

"I owe you all so much," I told them, nodding my head at my sister and Amy. "You all came together and gave me everything I've ever wanted."

Monica shook her head and gave my hand another squeeze.

"No, Terri. We simply gave you what you needed."

---

Lily_Rasputin is a writer of transgender short stories and serialized novels. Her works can be found on TG Storytime, Fictionmania, and BigCloset.