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A Good Night’s Sleep For A Change · Part 2

A Good Night’s Sleep For A Change · Part 2 (2/2)
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She held my hand, “Come on Leslie, if that’s who you are, let’s get that shower.” She was still sure I’d swapped places with Leslie sometime during the night.

With a stream of confused thoughts still cascading through my brain I followed her to the bathroom. She turned on the shower and then fetched some clean towels. I looked at myself in the mirror. Staring back at me was a strapping young woman about 5ft 8, well built – probably a little over 150 pounds – with solid legs and thighs, but not carrying much fat. She had shoulder-length dark brown hair, the same colour as mine – well, dammit, it was mine! I looked like a female, I was acting like a female, I felt like a female, I walked like a female, my voice sounded like that of a female and I smelled like a female but my mind was telling me that I was a male.

What is more I was a chauvinistic male who liked football, tinkering with cars and who had a great group of male drinking mates. As I was towelling myself dry, Dana came back into the bathroom. “Here, put this on while we see if we can rustle up some clothes for you to wear.” She handed me a towelling wrap and I followed her into the small kitchen – which seemed even smaller with three girls in it. A hot cup of coffee never tasted so good.

All this time my mind was still in turmoil. Mentally and physically I was completely drained. I was trying to work out what to do next but I was unable to think logically. What about work, my other friends, my driving licence, my birth certificate and my other papers – and my brother Tom who now lived in Spain? If I had turned into a female, how was I going to cope with all the female things? I burst into tears and just collapsed into the chair. All the girls were now very concerned about me and even discussed whether they should phone for an ambulance to get me taken to someplace where I could get some therapy.

But finally they decided that they should get me some female clothes and get me home. Hopefully when I got there I would be able to sort myself out. “OK, now let us find some clothes for you,” said Dana as she eyed me up and down. “The only one here anywhere near your size is Helga and she’s overseas at the moment – the Dom gear that she’s left here you’d never wear in the street…. but we’ll dig up something.” Dana suggested that perhaps she should put me back in the sleep sack and hope I would change back into who I was before so I could wear the clothes I came in last night.

Lee Ann thought it a waste of time trying as that sort of thing now as it only happens at midnight like it did to Cinderella. Something inside me told me that just wouldn’t happen twice – well, until a little while ago, I didn’t think that it could happen once. “Take Leslie up to the cross-dressing room and see what you can find the right size up there.” said Liz who by this time was getting a little tired of the chit-chat – after all the party had gone on until after first light and no one there except me had been to sleep. I followed Dana and Lee Ann upstairs.

Most of the clothes in their cross-dressing collection were rather trashy and the girls decided that something a little more conservative was called for. Lee Ann did suggest that if they could find nothing else, the maid’s uniform that she was holding would have to do – at least it was the right size! There was much rummaging through drawers and in wardrobes, then, for a start, Dana came up with black panties and a bra. “Get these on first.” She handed me the panties. I was used to men’s pants that came up to the waist. Now I found that my new waist was a lot higher and the panties sat comfortably on my hips.

Also I was surprised to find that the pot of my stomach now sat below my waistline whereas before, as a man, it was above it. Next she passed me a bra. “I guess you’re a 40C, so put it on and let’s see if it fits.” I fumbled with the straps and the hooks at the back. “Come here, let me do that.” I was very glad of Lee Ann’s help. By this time Dana was rummaging through one of the drawers. “All we seem to have are countless pairs of stockings and assorted garter belts.” Then with almost a shout of triumph she stooped her search and announced, “Ah, a pair of pantyhose without a hole or ladders – about the only ones here so it’s these or nothing.”

Dana helped me roll them up my legs and smooth them over my hips. “Now for a skirt. It looks like it’s this brown number – that’s unless you fancy this latex hobble skirt or the maid’s uniform!” The brown skirt was knee-length and hugged my thighs. Dana helped me wriggle into it and then pulled the zipper up at the back. “That’s what I call a perfect fit!” It was evident that she was pleased with her choice. “Now shoes are going to be a bit of a problem.” Dana added. “All the shoes we’ve got here that are anywhere near your size have got heels at least 4 inches high – and some a lot higher.

I think you’d have some difficulty walking far in them.” She paused while she thought where she could find more sensible shoes. “I know – Big Helga’s new boots, the heels on them are only about 3 inches high.” She disappeared for a while before returning back holding a pair of black knee-high boots with a zipper up the inside of the leg. She was right, they only had 3-inch heels – but I reckoned that even they were going to be a challenge for me to walk in. However, they fitted perfectly and I found walking in them easier than I first thought. “You can bring the boots back after you’ve got yourself some new shoes, Helga won’t be back for a couple of weeks.

Oh, and you can have this shoulder bag too. Someone left it behind months ago. In it you’ll find some make up and a hankie – that was also left behind.” “Before you put on this top we’d better do your hair for you as I don’t think you’ve got a clue on women’s hairstyles.” That was true – I hadn’t got a clue about anything in the female hairstyling or make-up department. Dana set about my hair, brushing it into a ponytail that she fixed with a black scrunchie. “And now your face. We can’t have you going out looking like that – especially with those red eyes,” said Lee Ann returning to the room with her make-up box.

When she had fixed my face to everyone’s satisfaction and after I had pulled on the long-sleeved black top, Dana suggested that I go into the Green Room, stand in front of one of the full-length mirrors in there and get to recognise my new self. I was surprised with what I saw. I couldn’t take my eyes off my new body – those two full rounded boobs, the smooth curve of my bum, the width of my hips, plus the softness of my face and hands. It wasn’t me at all – but for all that, the person standing in front of that mirror was definitely a real live woman and not just a bloke masquerading as one. But I still had to pluck up confidence to actually go out into the street and face the real world.

But first I needed to go to the toilet. I headed for the bathroom and my first reaction was to stand in front of the bowl and do it as I had always done since I was about 18 months old. Then I realised that this was not on and had to lift my skirt, pull down my pantyhose and panties and sit down. The relief was the same but the feeling quite different. I probed inside my new vagina with my fingers. I had done this dozens of times before to vaginas of other women but now I was doing it to myself. It was warm, wet and slippery in there, but my probing aroused no sexy feelings, neither did fingering my new-found clit. I straightened my clothes, washed my hands and went back into the kitchen.

“You’d better take these, you never know when they may come in handy,” said Dana as she handed me a large carrier bag into which she’d put all my old clothes.

I got my wallet and key ring out of the bag and put them in the handbag. “OK, ready?” asked Dana. “I’ll come with you as far as your car.” “Let us know how you’re getting along – you’ve got our phone number,” chimed in Liz, “and if there’s any way we can help, just give us a call or drop in.” I think that she really meant it. I tried to thank them all for their help and offered to pay for the clothes, but just couldn’t find the right words. “Oh, don’t worry about that – you can fix that up later after you’ve sorted everything out,” said Liz with a wave of her hand. “Do you feel ready to get yourself home?” I nodded – but not with much confidence.

Well I reckoned that, if there was to be no going back, the sooner the new me ventured outside the better – but I hoped that ‘home’ was still the place that I left last night. Lee Ann gave me a womanly peck on the cheek as I left; she waved and then closed the front door behind me. I was outside and with Dana chatting away beside me, I was heading down the street to the parking station. I felt half undressed but I was finding the female clothing quite comfortable – and the heels were not too difficult to walk in, although I was a bit wobbly at first. I was very aware of the weight and bounce of my boobs and the sway of my hips as I walked.

I found that I was forced to take smaller steps as even though the straight skirt had a 6-inch split at the back it still restricted my stride. After years of wearing men’s trousers I just wasn’t used to snug fit of the skirt around my hips and thighs. I also felt that everyone was staring at me – they probably weren’t, but I could not have felt more exposed if I had been walking down the street in the nude! “Where’s your ticket?” asked Dana as we got near the parking station. “You’ve got to pay the man.” My first reaction was to reach into my trousers pocket for my wallet – but then I remembered that I hadn’t got any trousers pockets.

I fumbled in the handbag for the wallet and found the ticket. I was saved the possible embarrassment of having to go up to the window and pay as the overnight rate was a fixed charge and I had pre-paid when I parked last night. My car was still where I had left it on the first floor. I pressed to button on the remote and the door locks sprung open. I threw the carrier bag and handbag on the passenger seat and climbed in. “Don’t forget, give us a call if there’s anything we can do to help.

You could even end up working with us – you certainly know the ropes by now.” Dana smiled and gave me a wink as she pushed the car door closed She stood and watched as I drove down the ramp and called out “The best of luck,” as she waved me goodbye. I was soon on the freeway heading for home. I drove into the parking lot under the apartment block and backed into my parking space. My next-door neighbour walked past just as I was getting out of the car. “Good morning,” he said. “Are you a friend of Les?” I nodded and smiled. I was relieved that he had not recognised me and that he didn’t stop and chat some more.

My mind was still in a whirl and more confused than ever by the time that I rather tentatively slipped the key into the lock on the front door. To my great relief the door opened and I went inside. It was an even greater relief to shut the door and lock it behind me. Now to wake up – now to get back to the football playing, beer-drinking 6ft tall Leslie Thomas I knew I was. But nothing changed – I was still trapped inside this new body. I dropped the two bags by the front door and hurried into the bedroom to find my ‘real’ clothes. I opened the wardrobe doors and all my clothes, shoes and everything else were there just as I left them last night.

The same with the dressing table drawers and the bedside tables – nothing had changed except me. I checked out the bathroom and, yes, there was my electric shaver, anti-perspirant – even my familiar toothbrush that I had been meaning to throw out for weeks now. I shut the cabinet door and went into the kitchen to get myself a cup of strong, black coffee. I probably needed something even stronger! Sitting sipping my coffee and looking round my familiar kitchen I was near to tears again. I kept on saying to myself “What the Hell am I going to do now?” I picked up the handbag and got out my wallet. Inside should be my driving license, that’ll have my name and a photograph.

Yes it did – there was Leslie R. Thomas looking back at me. Even more doubts crossed my mind – perhaps I was dreaming that I was once a male! Then I had a bright idea – I’d give the office a call, although it was Saturday morning, someone was sure to be there. I dialled the number. A lady’s voice answered the phone – I think it was one of the cleaners. “Could I speak to Leslie Thomas please?” I asked. “Er, Just a minute,” the voice at the other end replied. I heard the phone clunk down on the desk. After a while a man’s voice came on the line. “Who’s calling?” he asked – it was my boss. “Er, this is Leslie’s cousin.

We were going to for coffee this morning but Leslie hasn’t turned up, I was just wondering …” “Sorry Miss but its Saturday and he’s not here. Have you tried his home number?” Came the reply. I needed to hear no more. As soon as I heard ‘…HE’S not here’ and ‘… HIS home number…’ I dropped the receiver back in its cradle. So they say that I was a male at work – and I’m damned sure I was! As I poured myself another cup of coffee I noticed a smear of lipstick on the cup – my lipstick. This was enough to trigger another panic attack. Again I burst into tears. I sat down with a thump and buried my head in my hands. I was trying to work out what to do next but I was still not thinking logically.

I was trapped inside this woman’s body but inside my head I was still a male. I knew nothing about being a woman. What was worse I had absolutely no recollection of the past life of this woman I now was. Who was she? She must have had friends, but who were they? Or didn’t she exist before last night? These and a whole stream of other questions surged through my brain. There I was, a woman and only the only female things I had were the clothes I was wearing – and they were not mine. I’ve nothing else – no memories of life as a female and no idea as to how to behave like a female.

Everything else around me belonged to the old, very macho, male Leslie Thomas – even all my memories prior to this morning! Everything had happened so suddenly – even transsexuals work on their sex change for years and put in a lot of practice being the other sex. But with me – one instant I was happy being a man and then, zap, I was a woman! I looked at my new self again in the mirror – I suppose that I was beginning to like what I saw but I knew that I still had to confront the real world outside and the real me within. Perhaps if I went to sleep then, when I woke up, I would again be the old Leslie Thomas and all this would have been just a bad dream. But somehow I hoped that it wasn’t.

With these thoughts ringing in my head I went into the bedroom and, with the pale spring sunshine streaming through the window, I collapsed onto the bed, buried my head in the pillow and, still fully dressed, I cried myself to sleep.

A Good Night’s Sleep For A Change · Part 2 (2/2)
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