Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Romantic, BiSexual, TransGender, Fiction, First, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Foot Fetish,

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Foreword - What would you do if you were changed into a woman without your permission, or actively seeking such a change? How would you cope? Who would you tell? Is "Hi Mom, it's me," enough of an explanation? This is a fantasy, because the Institute doesn't exist in Champaign or anywhere else, but it was fun to write. Codes are minimal and will be added as I go, the chapters will be posted as fast as they come back from the editor. Happy reading!

The writing of a story, no matter the length, is hard work and mentally challenging. The story of Jan comes from a source other than my imagination, and I must give credit where credit is due. A few years ago, I had a summer party at my house and invited several mixed couples. As usual, a few singles showed up.

The seed for this story was planted when almost all of my male guests —and three of the ladies — said that they wished they had been born into another body. I've read about magical transformations, medical mistakes, living the lie without the final surgery and a hundred others. A few of Robert Heinlein's stories mention changing sex at will, a "rejuvenation" process, and I wondered how a man who was satisfied with his body would fare if he were altered without his willing participation. And, how he would cope with what he'd become. This little story is the result of my imagination, with a lot of help from my friends. Special thanks to Deenie, Waldo, Ralphie and Desiree.

This literary effort is dedicated to Ladybug, whose initials are J.K.D. She is uninhibited, loving, humorous, playful, a witty conversationalist and the most erotic and sensual woman I've ever known. She knows who she is, and I am indebted to her for the glow in my heart and the love in my soul. She is a most fortunate woman for being loved by someone she loves, and I am fortunate for knowing her.

And, as always, kudos to my editor, mentor and friend, Keith S., without whose help you'd probably be reading gibberish.

Janna Leonard, somewhere in North Dakota, 2010.

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