Chapter 3 - Rebirth

My first memories were of vomiting into the toilet.

I don’t know how long I had been doing this, my head was swimming and I was gasping for air like a fish out of water. I would dry heave, then gasp for air, then heave again. Over and over.

Once I felt my guts had settled into their proper place and I could walk more than a few steps, I stumbled into the bathroom and fell into the bathtub. I was covered head to toe in a thick slime. I didn’t even want to consider what it used to be.

Using the grab bar I was able to stand long enough to pull the handheld shower-head from it’s bracket and turn on the water. Then I sat back down again.

Water cascaded over me, sluicing the slime off bit by bit, revealing pink skin underneath.

Slowly my mind was awakening, and I was beginning to notice things around me.

First and foremost, I had breasts. I didn’t even have to see them to know they were there. I could feel their weight on my chest, pressing against my rib cage with every breath.

Second, I was smaller now. Noticeably. This tub had always been a snug fit for me before, now I had room to move and stretch out.

I directed the water down and rinsed my legs, noticing they were no longer the stocky appendages I was used to, but longer and more delicate, terminating with small feet.

This, of course, made me wonder what had changed between those legs. So, spraying the slime away from my hips, with an almost panic I noted that my penis, scrotum, and testicles were absent. Putting my hand between my thighs I felt an unmistakable feminine cleft.

I had a vagina.

I had done it. I had transitioned, biologically, from male to female.

I needed to examine myself more fully.

With an effort of will, I stood and let gravity assist in washing the remaining bits of slime off my new body and down the drain. I needed to shampoo my hair three times before I felt confident that it too was free of the liquefied remains of my former body.

After drying myself off, I stepped out of the shower and approached the mirror.

A young girl, perhaps 16 years of age was staring back at me. The age change was unexpected. I hadn’t been trying for that. I guessed that, when my DNA was regenerating, some of my Telomeres regenerated as well.

If I had to guess, I would say I was probably around 5’3”. I had auburn, almost brown hair to my shoulders, with brown eyes. A triangular face. I had a rounded nose, but not bulbous. Small mouth.

I knew these features. I had seen most of them for years. They weren’t an exact copy, but it was close enough to shock me.

They were Shelby’s features. I looked like my dead daughter.

While I tried to calm down, I threw on my robe, (which was now far too large for my diminutive body) and made myself a coffee.

Then I discovered I suddenly didn’t like black coffee, so I had an ice water.

OK ... I didn’t look exactly like Shelby, more like her cousin. But the family resemblance was there. It was going to take some getting used to to see that face in the mirror.

I hadn’t even been aware I had done it, but when thinking, I had crossed my legs like only woman are able to do, tight thigh against thigh. It reminded me that I was in a new body.

Slowly, tentatively, I allowed my right hand to slip inside my robe and cup my left breast. I could feel it’s weight, feel the pliancy as I squeezed it. Then I let my fingers caress the nipple. I felt the spongy texture that soon became firm under my finger as it hardened. This was a totally different experience than as a man. Everything seemed turned up to 11. It was like an electrical wire was hooked up from my breasts to my spine.