When I dragged myself to wakefulness, I didn’t spend any time wondering if the night before had been a dream. My sore jaw muscles and tongue were proof enough of how I’d spent my night. The feeling of the smooth sheet against my oh so smooth skin was even more evidence. 

Darting out my tongue I could still taste Lucy on my lips.

“Mmmm,” a happy sigh escaped me.

A little voice was telling me that there was a lot going on that I needed to think about and discuss with Lucy, but I told that little voice to fuck right off.

When I finally opened my eyes, Lucy was staring right into them.

“Good morning, my little flower,” she said.

That surge of happiness hit me again.

I closed my eyes again.

“Wow,” I said, then giggled happily at the sound of my own voice.

“I think Daisy may be a morning person,” Lucy said, then continued, “Wait, no. It’s already after noon.”

Seriously?

Then it hit me. More than sixteen hours had passed. I’d have to change back soon.

“What’s wrong, Daisy?”

“I have to change back.” 

My voice wasn’t nearly as cute when it came out so flat.

When there wasn’t a response I opened my eyes. Lucy was looking at me again. She seemed concerned and a little puzzled.

“It’s been sixteen hours,” I explained.

Her look said that that did not explain anything.

“Do you want to change back?”

I knew I should want to. I was a man. I shouldn't want this. I didn’t get to have this. 

My lack of an answer seemed to be answer enough for her.

“Breakfast first, or talk first?” Lucy asked.

🔗

I sat at the table in one of Lucy’s silk robes, since my terrycloth ones had felt too rough. I sipped at my orange juice. It tasted amazing.

Lucy finished loading the dishwasher and sat down across from me.

“First things first,”  she said, “I’m pretty sure I’m a lesbian.”

My heart stopped. Last night, addled with desire, my brain had slid off that concept. Now, faced with the looming need to change back, I couldn’t set it aside.

Fuck. I loved her so much. It couldn’t be over. But at the same time, I couldn’t make her stay. I didn’t ask her if she was sure, as much as I wanted it not to be true. I trusted her to know herself.

“Fuck,” was all I said.

The corner of her mouth twitched, like she was suppressing a smile or a laugh.

“What?” I asked.

“Why is it a problem that I’m a lesbian, Daisy?”

“I love you?”

“I love you, too. More than I can say.”

“But if you're a lesbian, how can we stay together?”

She reached forward and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. That felt nice.

“Daisy?”

“Yeah?”

“Daisy?”

“What!?”

“Ja—”

“Don’t!” I interrupted.

She sighed.

“What?” I asked again.

“You talked about dysphoria kicking in before,” Lucy said. “Has it kicked in?”

“I don’t think so. I guess I’m not sure what it would feel like. Why?”

“Do you remember the day you spent as a bodybuilder?”

“Of course. That sucked so much. You’re not asking me to go back to that are you?”

My whole body tensed up at the very idea. 

She reached across the table and took my hands in hers. That made me feel strangely safe.

“Never.”

“Why did you ask about it, then?”

“Do you feel anything like that now?”

I looked down at myself, then back at her.

“Is that a trick question?”

“It most definitely is not.”

“Look at me.”

“Oh, I am. And I’m enjoying the view. Are you saying you like being like that?”

“How could I not? I’m hot. Everything feels so good. I actually like how I look in the mirror.”

“Would you call what you’re feeling euphoria?”

“I guess? It’s not the wrong word for it, anyway.”

“Why would you give that up?”

“I have to.”

I could see her struggling over what to say next.

She settled on, “Does it have to be right now?”

I thought about that. There was no reason I had to change back before Monday morning. The idea of staying like this a little longer sent a shiver up my spine.

“I guess not.”

“Well, then. We need to get you something to wear for tonight.”

“Why for tonight?”

“You’re not going on a date dressed like that.”

I glanced down at the robe I was wearing and was briefly distracted by the flesh it revealed.

“Good point,” then I processed what she’d just said. “Wait, what?”

🔗

“Are you sure you’re okay using the chain again right now?” Lucy asked. “You’ll definitely be stuck this way until tomorrow afternoon if you do.”

I got that tingle up my spine again and nodded mutely.

Lucy had found me the perfect pair of shoes, or so she said, but they hadn’t had them in my size (apparently a five). They did however have them in four and seven. I’d wandered off to pick a pair of running shoes, because I’d missed my run that morning and didn’t want to miss the next morning.

When we’d met at the register, Lucy put a pair of heels on the counter with the shoes I’d found. When I looked puzzled, she’d wrapped her arm around my waist and I’d forgotten what I was puzzled about.

Now we were back in the car. Lucy was in the driver’s seat, of course because, in the unlikely event that we got pulled over, I did not want to hand my current license over to a cop.

I was a little surprised when she pulled the chain out of her purse.

“Why are we doing this now, instead of when we get home?” I asked.

“Your height could change a little, and we don’t want to buy your outfit for this evening, then have it not fit when we do this.”

I held out my wrist.

“May I?”

I nodded and she fastened the chain around my outstretched wrist. Suddenly, I had a thought.

“But what about the—”

“Fit into this,” Lucy interrupted, holding up one of the heels.

I felt the flash of heat on my wrist and feet, flowing up my whole body.

“—running shoes I just bought?”

“Oops,” she said, “You stay here, I’ll run in and exchange them real quick.”

The cold heat of the change wasn’t isolated to my feet. My entire body was enveloped by it. It wasn’t quite as intense as my last change, and didn’t take as long, but I had expected it to be less extensive.

I felt the fit of my borrowed clothes shift. I was wearing Lucy’s smallest pair of jeans, belted tight, with the bottoms of the legs rolled up and one of her smallest t-shirts. For underwear, I was wearing the lingerie. I had been wearing a pair of her shoes and three pairs of socks. But those were now sitting on the floor of the car.

By the time Lucy returned with a shoebox in hand, I was pretty sure I was at least an inch shorter than I had been.

“Doing okay?” she asked, as she slid into the driver’s seat.

I nodded again.

She handed me the box with the running shoes.

“You should be done by the time we get to the mall.”

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” I said, arms crossed.

🔗

I was staring up at Lucy. Way up. I’d noticed the height difference as soon as we got out of the car. It had hit home even harder when I faced her. My head barely reached her shoulder. If I was even five feet tall, I’d be shocked.

She didn’t manage to conceal a grin.

“Do you mind?”

I didn’t. Not really. Still, I pouted up at her on principle.

“Besides,” she continued, “the heels will give you four inches back.”

“I look like a child.”

She stared pointedly at my chest. I glanced down.

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

She grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the mall.

At home, and in the shoe store, my recent loss of height had been obvious, sure. But there were only a couple of other people in the shoe store, and I’d been three to four inches taller.

The mall was overwhelming. Everyone who wasn’t a child was taller than me. I clung to Lucy’s hand like a lifeline. If we weren’t moving, I was pressed up against her side. She was comfort. She was safety. She didn’t seem to mind.

With her there, I didn’t mind, either. Some of the looks we got from men were annoying, or worse, but that was noise that got lost in the signal, the endorphin rush of being Daisy. That rush was enough to push aside any little voice of negativity.

Our first purchase at the mall was underwear. Lucy had measured me at home, so I was spared the embarrassment of a bra fitting. Despite that, it took us a couple of tries to find just the right fit. I was a 32E in one brand, and a 34D in another. In theory, Lucy said, those should be roughly the same, but switching those sizes between brands didn’t quite work. Lucy said that wasn’t surprising. Luckily, panties were a little less complicated.

Looking at dresses took forever, and I was okay with that. I tried on maybe twenty different dresses at four different stores. We ended up with two. A dress for date night, and a cute sundress. I was hesitant to buy yet another dress, but Lucy pointed out that I’d need something for Sunday, just in case I didn’t turn back first thing in the morning. The fact that the sundress had a daisy print was the clincher.

I’d noticed at one point that Lucy kept checking the time. She’d shrugged it off when I asked her why, but I found out shortly after we left the mall.

🔗

“Why are we stopping here?” I asked.

‘Here’ was a small strip mall.

“I just thought that, if you’ve got to change back soon, you should get the full experience,” Lucy answered.

I followed her gaze to the closest storefront. The sign read ‘CLIPS CLIPS BANGS BANGS.’ I rolled my eyes at the punny name, but I didn’t resist when Lucy led me inside.

“How am I supposed to use my phone?” I asked.

The chain apparently hadn’t considered long nails necessary for me to ‘fit’ the lingerie, but Lucy considered them necessary to complete my ‘look’ for the evening. 

My hair was now a mass of curls, my (fake) nails were now long and ruby red, and my face . . .

“Don’t cry, sweetie,” Lucy hugged my shoulders, “you’ll ruin all that beautiful work.”

I was staring in the mirror at the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. No, that wasn’t it. Lucy was more beautiful, but . . .

The woman in the mirror was not the girl next door. She was sophisticated. She was sexy. She was about to burst into tears. The only thing that stopped me was the presence of Lucy’s hands, and her voice whispering calm words in my ear. 

The sheer euphoria of looking in the mirror and seeing her was almost matched by the near-despair of knowing she would have to go away soon. I managed to shove that second part down. I would enjoy this while I could. The smile that appeared on my face brought me right back to the edge into tears.

“Thank you so much!” I babbled to the woman who’d done my makeup. Then, to Lucy, “Did you give her a big tip? No, a huge tip? Should I go back and give her more?”

Lucy led me to the car and helped me into my seat. I immediately lowered the visor and flipped open the little mirror. 

“Now I know how Frankenstein felt,” Lucy said, under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing, Daisy.”

Warmth.

🔗

The heels did, in fact, bring back a little more height than what they’d cost me. However, Lucy’s heels added even more to her height. Given that this put her boobs at right about my eye level, I chose not to complain.

“Right this way, ladies,” the hostess led us to our table, and I got that little burst of joy.

Lucy sped a tiny bit ahead, and had my chair pulled out for me when I reached the table. I wasn’t sure exactly how this worked from this side of the interaction, but we managed to get me seated without embarrassing either of us.

I tried to read the menu, but had trouble focusing due to Lucy’s foot tracing the outline of my calf. She’d slipped out of one of her heels, and we were both wearing stockings. The sensation was incredible and distracting and incredible.

“Lucy,” I hissed.

“Are you ladies ready to order?” the waiter had appeared from nowhere.

I most certainly wasn’t ready. 

“We’ll have the tasting menu, please,” Lucy answered for us, “and two glasses of the Szigeti.”

“Very good,” and he was gone.

“Not the bottle?” I asked.

“I want to know that I have your full, enthusiastic, and sober consent for everything I’m going to do to you when we get home,” she practically growled.

I could feel my cheeks burn at that, and a somewhat different, and, moister, heat elsewhere.

“Are people looking at us?” I whispered.

“Of course they are,” Lucy replied, “Have you seen us?”

She had a point, and it was now gently running along my inner thigh. I clamped my legs on her foot.

“I will drag you into the ladies’ room and get us kicked out of this restaurant if you keep that up, young lady.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

But she pulled her foot away. Slowly. Damn.

The food was delicious—I assume, anyway. Lucy continued to distract me throughout the meal. If not with her toes, then when she bent over to retrieve her dropped napkin, giving me a spectacular view of her cleavage. 

🔗

We were almost home when I fell apart.