An Original Transformation
Part 7
It only took a few minutes for the custom cupcake. It was not our most expensive purchase, but it was more than I could ever remember spending for a small confection. I didn’t take a bite at first, even though Fleur sat across from me with a gaze to urge me on.
I asked Malina about her job. She milled about the shop, cleaning up here and there as she answered, “It’s fun and easy work. My uncle owns the place. Sure, it can get boring but nanite special orders are always neat.”
I picked up the fork and angled it towards my plate. I asked, “So, you’re Malina all the time you’re working?”
She nodded as she pushed her broom around a corner. “As soon as I put on my apron. It works fifteen hours and I wear it from when we prep to open to when we close up at night.”
I traced over the top of my cupcake as Fleur started to pout. I asked, “So…umm, are you really different when you’re Malcolm?”
Malina rounded up some random glitter into a dust bin which had fallen from a display. “Not really. Oh, aside from the fact I’m like six and a half feet and solid muscle…” She giggled to herself in such a way I wasn’t sure if she was kidding.
I dipped into the icing along the side and asked one last question, “If you had a choice, would you rather be Malina all the time?”
Resting her broom, Malina crossed her legs and leaned back against the fridge. “Kinda personal… Not that I mind. I’m Malina. But I’m also Malcolm. I’m happy with how things are. My significant other wants more Malina time on weekends though…” She cast a wink our way and added, “You better eat up for as much boobie time as possible.”
I fought the shiver again, shut my eyes, and licked the icing off the top before biting into the rest of it. The icing itself was amazingly fluffy, almost as light as meringue but with a creamier flavor. The decoration on top was tart but only briefly so. The cake itself dissolved with each bite as I got to the cold ice cream in the middle. The strawberry was rich and fresh. It tasted genuine, like I was a bite away from an actual, not-frozen piece of strawberry. I finished it down to the wrapper and leaned back.
The shivers calmed. I was past the point of choice and anxiety. I’d done it. My stomach gave a regular rumble as I looked down at my chest. I didn’t have to wait long.
The first signs of a change came with a cooling sensation in my nipples, much different than the burning and tingles I’d seen described in online accounts. They didn’t hurt.
Soft fabric, which hadn’t been present a moment ago, snaked along my chest. It was in the supportive design Malina had placed on the cupcake. The sliding motion made me shift and take a long, slow breath.
This was more like what I expected all along. Sitting with my legs together, I watched this sort of change I’d seen in POV camera footage countless times. The rush came in that it was my flesh beginning to press against the front of my shirt in an unfamiliar way. It formed a ridgeline in the cloth which made it harder for me to see down to my stomach.
I tried to breathe normally but I began to cough. Malina hustled over with a plastic cup of water and I downed it in a gulp. Fleur had her phone up with the camera spot aimed over the upper half of my body.
After all the videos of changes I’d seen, after all I’d imagined, I was going to be the transformed person in this one. It sent a jittery tremor through me which worked its way to a warm sense of relaxation.
When I was finished, signaled by one final, cool ripple of sensation, looking down felt strange. Despite how prepared I expected I’d be from visualization and video and daydreams, it didn’t matter. Looking down and seeing the outline of a bra through the familiar patterns of my top gave me a shiver. Seeing the form of my body that bra supported…it…well, it wasn’t as big as I’d expected. Still, the reality of it was hard to perceive except in careful fragments.
It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure out that my shirt was changing as well. The lime color shifted into a pleasant shade of pink deeper and more mellow than Fleur’s hair. As well as the color, the sleeves shifted to the elbow and the material felt softer. The cut also changed so it flowed all the way down to my low pants.
When that was done, Fleur gave a cheeky grin and said, “Surprise! Well, little surprise. I remembered that you always liked it when I randomly wore tight, fitted Transformer t-shirts to school. I couldn’t get the logo because of all the licensing bullshit it takes but maybe you can just pin your hat button on there?”
I soon learned that Fleur had added a note on her phone when she showed it to Malina for the clothing change. Sneaky. But I really did like it. I was just still reeling from what was underneath the shirt.
Fleur helped me to my feet as I took in all that had changed. My chest, as an emphasis on top of everything else, made me feel the other changes anew. I stood as a different person aside from one final remnant.
As I fussed with my top and made new wrinkles where none had been before, Fleur fished out a little triple-sealed baggie and set it on the table. It was no bigger than a ring box but lumpy with air bubbles.
“One last surprise”, Fleur explained. “It’s a gender changer for a phone charger. They had it for sale online and I’ve been holding onto it for a few days.”
I looked at the little opaque baggie and then back at Fleur before asking, “But we didn’t decide on the piecemeal approach till tonight…”
She leaned her head and nodded. “True but you forget I’ve been making plans for a while. And it was really cheap. I was going to spring it on you at the electronics store if we couldn’t find a better one in stock. But you look so uncomfortable that maybe we should finish it now.”
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I repeated, “Uncomfortable…?”
She gestured without words to my lower half and mentioned, “You know....and stuff.” I failed to hold back my blush.
A pair of customers came in through the door of the pastry shop. I retreated to my chair and crossed my legs again. Fleur kept a sympathetic smile as she said, “Although no place is perfect…”
Malina returned from the back and dealt with the customers quickly. They didn’t buy any special creations but the Danishes they left with looked tasty. Malina hung around and gave me a look as she asked, “Sooo? Did you like it?” Aside from gesturing at my empty plate, Malina gave a tug of her apron.
Another futile adjustment of my shirt only heightened the ridge between…my breasts. “It was tasty. I’m just still getting used to it. And I like the shirt.”
Malina nodded. “I was curious about that. Looks good on you. So, what’s next for you two?”
Fleur opened her mouth slightly then closed it after a look at me. I could’ve simply explained we might take it easy. I could’ve said any number of things. I could’ve waited for Fleur to speak. But I picked up the little package Fleur set out for me and explained, “Just one more thing left and that’ll be it.”
Malina noticed the item in my hand and squeaked out, “Awwwwww! It’s always fun to watch someone’s first time….If you don’t mind me watching.”
We hadn't explicitly told Malina it was my first time, but I was aware I looked like a newbie, so it was probably easy to guess. I told her I didn’t mind. Digging slowly, I fished my phone out of my pocket.
It was nothing compared to Fleur’s. Its screen barely displayed colors, it only took photos above a black blur in extreme daylight, and it had several cracks from where I had dropped it time and again at school. But it had lasted ever since mom got it for me after hearing the horrors of how children without cell phones were in danger of some random doom the news had mentioned that day.
A quick inspection made me wonder if there was even a spot where I could put the attachment but Fleur had done her homework (as she always did) when it came to what would work with my phone. The attachment was such a small thing. So inconspicuous. The directions said I needed to “hold the phone” once the attachment was done. The change would start with a slight delay, underwear would be adjusted, and the phone battery level was not a limitation on change time. It had the shortest duration of anything we’d run across so far but that balanced out with all the time we’d spent getting to this point.
My nipples made themselves ‘friendly’ against my altered clothes as I felt a shiver all through my body. All before I’d even put the wee dongle into the slot.
Attaching came as one simple press. I flipped the phone closed and nudged it back into my pocket as the attachment trailed behind. I waited.
Fleur leaned forward and asked, “Well?”
I tried to think of my groin. It didn’t seem like anything had happened yet. But then, except for when something was ‘happening’, I didn’t really think about my groin all that much. It didn’t feel out of sorts. I gave a little shrug and caught a faint jiggle up top.
It took till I thought to adjust my underwear that I found out that I had already been changed for some untold time. The rest of the realization came a moment later.
I swallowed and told Fleur, “Yup. I’m a girl now.”
Her shoulders settling in relief as she smiled, Fleur told me, “Finished photo time.”
I tried posing but, in the back of my head, I felt strange that this last change, this critical change, had passed me by. Only when I turned to cross my legs in the seat did it become obvious how things had shifted.
That feeling, along with Fleur’s camera shots, brought out an all-new sensation. I felt distracted by a faint flush on my face. Beyond the shiver was a warmth and something else suddenly spreading. The sort of thing my family didn’t talk about under any circumstances, although my mere existence testified that they knew enough about it. I had something different than the usual pressure pushing against my pants going on.
It felt like nudging the warm end of a faucet. Even as I managed to keep it from turning further, it still felt like a stray trickle was carving a path inside me. Nerves and seeing Fleur looking at me pushed away the rest of the warmth and it almost felt like things were back to normal.
Emerging from the back of the store, Malina hefted a tall mirror over to the front of the pastry display and propped it up. “I forget why we have this, but if you want to take a look...”
I slipped out of the chair and stood before the mirror. I was a woman. I still had my trilby, though it had drifted to the side of my head. It nested some of my light hair while the rest slid behind me. My face had enough of my features left to look vaguely familiar (like seeing a cousin), but it also seemed more girlish than ever. The accent of the temporary tattoo complimented my tight, pink shirt.
I left my hands at my side. They looked natural on this body, especially flowing out of my truncated sleeves. Turning and shifting, I appreciated how my lower half fit with the rest of me. Looking straight into the mirror, I felt good in a way which didn’t even bring back the warmth.
If I had to compare it to anything, I felt like when I heard a beautiful hymn on Sunday. But it was more than beautiful words. It reminded me of the best of those times when the politics of my parents fell away, and joy welled up. I felt moved, connected, and serene.
I cried softly and without sobs until Fleur noticed my tears and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Smiling upon her, I shook my head. “Nothing. It’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful.”