Chapter 3 : Tuesday

I awoke on Tuesday morning and I ached. I rubbed my eyes and the sting of the belting I got the night before sent pain through the whole of that side of my face, not to mention a fresh bout of stars before the eyes. It all came flooding back and I started to feel the shakes coming on again.

I went into the bathroom and sat on the loo while I peed. I very gently touched the area around my eye and could feel it smart from the bridge of my nose almost round to my ear. Wiping and flushing, I looked in the mirror and gasped.

The wallop had given me a right old black eye, well almost; only the bottom lid was purple. This was going to be one of those that would probably hang around going every colour of the rainbow before it finally disappeared. I hated Mike (the bastard) for what he did and hated the fact that I hadn't been able to summon the courage to call the evening off altogether, before any of this could have happened.

Worse still, I could see bruising on my forearms from being manhandled and I'm sure that the external signs were going to be easier to cope with than the internal, mind-based ones.

I saw spots of Mike (the bastard)'s blood on my jeans and the shirt I had worn last night. That pissed me off too. They were the only jeans or trousers I had to wear that fitted me and now they would have to be washed before I could even wear them again. The shirt too, was damaged, with buttons missing and tears around where they had come from and to the buttonholes.

Last night was not going to be one to easily forget.

I took a few moments to examine the top half of my body and was aware that the waistline was becoming noticeably narrower. My bust was definitely bigger today too. I could see that for myself, with two very prominent nipples poking out. I tweaked one curious as to what it felt like and after peeling myself off the ceiling, I decided that I would need to treat them more gently in the future — where appropriate of course!

This led to some curiosity about what was happening elsewhere.

I checked between my legs and was horrified to see that Willy was not present.

"Jesus!" I exclaimed and spent the next few minutes in very strange positions with a mirror, trying to ascertain what was going on 'down there'. In the end I worked out that my balls had disappeared. As to whether they had just receded into the cavity or had 'gone' altogether, was yet to be determined, but Willy was no more than a nub where a clitoris would be. My scrotum had formed into a very nice pair of labia majora and minora lips and I guessed that the rest of the vagina was still forming as at that moment, it dawned on me that from the very beginning I was sitting to pee and wiping too.

This was all very confusing and it would seem that this was not going to stop until my body into that of a true female.

I was surprised that I wasn't getting worried and found myself admiring the new body. The way the chest and shoulders had narrowed somewhat and curved gently to the waist, whereupon, the hips flared to two nice shapely legs.

There was no angularity that one would normally associate with the masculine form and that included the lines of my face. I was turning out to be quite an attractive woman. I wasn't surprised in a bad way at all; I was both fascinated and pleased.

I winced as I bent over to pick up my tracksuit trousers and realised that in the melee, there were probably other things that happened that just blurred into the rest. I took out another pair of the new socks and found a sweatshirt to pull on.

The sound of someone knocking on my door was enough to bring me out of my reverie and I winced as I hobbled downstairs to answer it. Once again, I found Trisha standing there and I just swung the door open to allow her to come in as I turned on my heels and headed for the kitchen.

"Hi..." she said and her jaw dropped as I disappeared up the hall.

After last night, I was glad that she had come round, although I was equally worried about what to tell her of the events of last evening.

"Hey! Don't walk away like that..." Once again, she was rubbing me up the wrong way and without thinking, I turned to face her, my shiner becoming all too obvious and had it not been bolted on, her dropping jaw may well have damaged the flooring.

"What the fuck... ?" she began.

"Sit down please."

She almost dropped like a private at the sound of the Sergeant Major onto the nearest chair.

"I went out last night."

"You did? That was brave."

"Stupid, more like." I said. A wry smile passed across my face. "Tea?"

"Yes please and don't change the subject. What happened? You look awful." I grabbed the kettle and filled it, setting it down afterwards on its stand and pushing the 'ON' button.

"If I didn't feel bad anyway, I'd be really fucked off at that remark." I said. "But anyway, I got a phone call from Mike (the bastard) the other day. He wanted to know if I wanted to go for some pool at the local. I of course accepted and in the meantime, all this started to happen." I gestured up and down my body.

I filled her in with the rest of the events and left her absolutely speechless and me with a huge lump in my throat, tears only seconds behind and the floodgates opened once again.

"I didn't encourage him. He tried to take it for himself, no matter how much I told him no." I snivelled. Trisha got up and put her arms round me, drawing me to her tightly.

"Ow! Careful, I'm pretty bruised."

"Sorry. How did you stop him in the end?"

"I hit him with this saucepan." I said, picking up the rescue weapon.

"Really?" A wicked grin appeared on her face and I couldn't help smiling.

"Oh yes. He left after that."

"I'm not surprised!" she said looking at me quite in awe of what I had managed.

I did an impersonation of the sound it made as it floored him and through winces, I laughed; well actually we both laughed. It was the first time in ages that both she and I had actually laughed together and I instantly saw the irony of the situation.

"I'm really glad you came round today. You've cheered me up. I don't know how it would have been if I had had to try and sort through this on my own. I woke up a nervous wreck."

"I'm glad too." she said and once again, she pulled me close and I cried a bit more, though this time, it was because I was happy and felt safe in her company.

When I had stopped and regained some composure, she led me into the living room and stood back from me looking me up and down. She was shocked at how far along I had come and she even complimented me on the gold chain, recognising the ring too. We sat down on the sofa.

"Well it stopped fitting as my fingers got smaller." I told her as we sat facing one another.

"Smaller?"

"Yeah, I was much, much bigger and taller than you before all of this and now, we're virtually the same size." For some reason, this seemed to please her. Something I didn't seem quite able to grasp.

The longer she stayed, the more I was warming to the very woman I had taken to task in the supermarket. The longer she stayed, the less I felt like asking her about her stuff and the more I wanted her to be close to me.

It was just a reaction to the night before, I told myself. The comfort from her was making me feel a lot less panicky and I needed that right now. Before she arrived, I felt fear about going out again on my own. Not so much as far as the shops were concerned, but definitely anywhere else, especially if I needed to come home alone.

It was very confusing and to top it all, I was getting strange signals from Trisha too.

These signals were something I recognised as being like the go-ahead to proceed to the next level of intimacy. After what had happened last night I thought that Trisha would not be coming on to me. That would have been really bad timing and I must have been mistaken, but the signals kept coming and she even went as far as to start touching me as well and not in an innocent way like women do; no, I was definitely getting 'come-on' signals here. I was so confused. Why was I getting all of this unwelcome attention?

In the end, I just had to ask her to leave, feigning feeling rough after the night before and needing to go back to bed for a while. She seemed a little put out, but well, there was nothing I could do. I looked like shit, felt like shit and felt I had a bloody good excuse.

"Can I come back later?"

I thought about it and felt that there was no way things could get as out of hand with her as they did with Mike (the bastard) and by that time, I would probably be in need of some company. I said okay, and told her to come back around early evening.

I must say, it might have been the bang on the head, but I was really getting a weird vibe from all this. Perhaps it was just paranoia, but the thought that I was now so vulnerable played on my mind. As far as Trisha was concerned, I was a hero. I gave that bastard something to think about, but why did it have to happen at all and why did it have to be perpetrated by someone I thought I could trust.

I went back to bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

A nasty, familiar smell accosted my nose. I tried to remember what it was, but the memory eluded me. It was vile and it seemed to be getting stronger. I opened my eyes to see Michael's tool, turgid and twitching just inches from my nose. That's what the smell was; I could feel myself starting to gag.

I couldn't move and my stomach was churning, my mouth flooding with saliva as it does, just before you heave. I was stretched out on my side as his cock swayed and throbbed almost hypnotically just inches from my mouth and I felt an almost overwhelming feeling of panic come over me. Still I couldn't move.

I tried instead to yell, scream or make some noise, but nothing, not a single note escaped my lips.

The feeling of panic got stronger as the engorged penis neared, the smell of unwashed genitalia filling my nostrils, my mouth flooding still and the need to vomit getting ever closer.

It took an almost titanic effort to roll over onto my other side and the smell subsided along with the desire to hurl, but it didn't last for long as I was rolled back to face the cobra-like motions of the pink monster. I took a deep breath, opened my mouth and let out an almighty scream, only to awaken, sweat-covered and shaking like a leaf.

My hair was soaked as was the pillow and the sheets too, the putrid smell of Michael's 'thing', still permeating each breath I drew until a wave of nausea caused me to faint back onto the wet bedding.

I awoke to the sound of the door and slid out of bed to answer, grabbing my dressing gown on the way. Trisha had returned and I opened the door, grabbed her in a big hug, buried my head into her neck and started sobbing.

It took some time before I had stopped shaking and all that time, Trisha had been stroking my head and making soothing sounds to me. I couldn't believe it. I guess it must have been a delayed reaction.

I keep forgetting, unless I see my body, I still think in terms of a man. I have constantly failed to recognise the fact that I am more or less a woman, not a man who has changed to a woman and has got used to the changes that the hormones have brought about. I have had three or four days, and acclimation is not something that happens overnight.

"How are you doing?" she asked me.

"Pretty shaky, I have to say. I feel such a plonker. I got a bit battered and bruised and now I feel scared of my own shadow. It's crazy."

"Did you call the police?"

"Well no. I didn't know how I could explain things."

"Hmm, good point."

"Anyway, Trisha. Thank-you for being so supportive. I really needed it today."

"My pleasure." she said.

"There is one thing I took away from last night."

"Oh? What's that?"

"I got myself a new name. Well Mike (the bastard) coined it." I said, feeling that little tremble of excitement again at the thought of my new name. "I keep having it pointed out that I don't look like a Paul anymore and Mike (the bastard) and I came up with Danielle. What do you think?"

"I think it suits you." she said and I blushed.

"Thank-you. Amongst the other suggestions were Ethel, Edith, Sharon and Tracy. I couldn't take any of those could I?"

"No, I don't think you could. I like Danielle. I think I could get used to that."

She had been really good to me and I felt that not only did I feel more comfortable, but I also felt that I had a kindred spirit there. I made us some dinner and while I was cooking it, Trisha went out and bought some wine.

"It's the least I can do." she said and kissed me on the cheek as she bounced out the door.

We ate while watching some rubbish on the television. The wine went down well and by the end of the meal, I was feeling quite a bit more relaxed than I was at the beginning of the day. I took the plates out and returned with a couple of cups of coffee.

We chatted some more about this and that and I was surprised about how well we seemed to be getting on now compared to before. I wanted to broach the subject of the remainder of her stuff, but it was an oily subject in that it kept slipping away from me.

It was Trisha brought it all to a halt, saying that she had to go and I saw real regret there. I felt regret that I wasn't Paul anymore, that I wasn't able to be her boyfriend and I wondered whether I would ever be anyone's boyfriend again.

Much to my surprise, I was not plagued by nightmares of throbbing dicks or being beaten up for rejecting some bloke's sexual advances that night. In fact, I slept very well. The shock of course came on the following morning when I saw the multicoloured bruise on my cheek and lower eyelid. It was still tender, but not nearly as tender as it had been.

My breasts were now breast-sized and as for which size, I have no idea. Let's just say, they're generous handfuls, going by the size of my hands. Granted my hands aren't that big anymore, but comparatively speaking, my cup runneth over! The rest of me didn't seem to have changed much. My figure was not really any different to yesterday, with the exception of the breasts of course.

I washed up, brushed my hair and got dressed in my normal sportswear, t-shirt and my trainers. Then I went to make some coffee.

I returned to the spare room to perform the daily job search and wonder of wonders, there was one job there that I felt I could do quite easily. The pay wasn't what I had been used to, but it was something. I clicked on the 'apply' button and sat ready to enter the required info — then stopped, staring at the screen.

What was I going to put on the application?

Sure I could attach my CV, but if they phoned, they would want to speak to Paul, not Danielle. What was I going to do?

I logged off and continued just to stare at the screen and I could feel those blasted emotions coming to the fore yet again. I seemed to be spending such a lot of my time in tears at the moment and although some of it is understandable, what with the trauma of after the pub, but much of it had been coming unbidden and that was most disconcerting.

I left the computer and on the way, I saw the two piles of Trisha's clothes, and wondered when she would finally come round to collect. I actually got quite angry as I saw that I may never get to see the back of it.

"Perhaps I should chuck it out after all." I thought.

I sloped off back to the kitchen and it wasn't long before Trisha phoned.

"Hi, Danielle."

"Hi yourself." I said. I was happy to hear her voice while all the grief I had given myself in the spare room over her stuff seemed to dribble out of my ears. Part of my brain was screaming at me to tell her to get it the hell out, the rest was all sunshine and roses as it were.

She wanted to come round and I felt powerless to stop her. More to the point, if I hadn't been thinking about her stuff in the first place, it may have never occurred to me at all.

I spent most of the day trance-like. If I wasn't thinking about jobs and how in the hell I was going to get round or through all the legal angles, like the National Insurance number, or the fact that the information on my CV was for a chap named Paul, I was thinking about Mike (the bastard) and what he'd done to me.

Mike (the bastard) seemed to figure more often than not though, as since I didn't have a job on the horizon, the fact that I had lost a friend was much more important. I thought about our time as children, the schools we went to together, the times when we were young men, just hitting the real world and of later on.

Later we did seem to drift apart, but when we bumped into each other, it was as if we'd never been apart. It was not like that the other night and there was good reason.

How ever short a break people have from each other, they never return the same old 'so-and-so' as they were before, but no changes could be as total as what had happened to me. Not only was I not the same person as when our paths had diverged, but I wasn't the same sex, not the same height, weight or anything.

As to the way he treated me, I had seen similar with other women and my mother was a prime example. I could identify with them for the trouble they were having with their men. I could see that their other halves were treating them like puppets, like playthings, like slaves. The women in the lives of these men were only there for them and their pleasure, nothing more.

I couldn't tolerate that and always went out of my way not to be like that. I identified with the women whose men treated them like that and felt nothing but embarrassment towards the men, shame and sorrow for the women. Now I had become one of those women and I wasn't sure what to do with the information or the experience. I did know that it would never happen again.

Trisha came round at about two in the afternoon and the first thing she did, was to suck deeply through her teeth at the sight of my bruising.

"You can't go out looking like that." she said.

"Go out?" I was stunned. I had a face the looked like it had been in an explosion in a paint factory. "I'm not going out."

"Nonsense!" she admonished. "A little foundation and some eye shadow and you'll be fine."