Help I've Turned into a Woman

This is a work of pure fantasy fiction. It is the first time I've written anything and what started with the germ of an idea for a short sex story quickly grew and evolved into a voyage of discovery. As I started to write the ideas kept coming to me and the story just kept growing. It became a question of what do I leave out? I have tried to imagine how a male would adapt to his new woman's body. What he would have to do to get life back on track as he learned how to use this new body. It is also an account of his sexual awakening in this new body. I was trying to imagine being a woman, I hope I've not been too fanciful.

1. The Change

My name was Roger, I was 35 years old, when my life changed dramatically. At the time I was 5ft 9in, 135lbs, so I class myself as Mr Very Average. I had been married for ten years before being widowed two years ago. My wife, Wendy, had died at the hands of a drunk hit and run driver.

I worked shifts in a call centre, our shift was a team of twelve people. I'd always felt closer to the female members of the team, possibly because talk of football, cricket and other spectator sports bored me.

After one particularly hard shift, 2pm to 10pm. The team went out for a drink, we were then going to be off for three days before the next shift, nights 10pm to 6am. Nothing eventful happened, was just a pleasant evening with friends. I do remember one comment from some woman in the pub, as I was helping myself to some peanuts from a dish on the bar,

"I wouldn't eat those you don't know where people's hands have been".

After a few drinks I was feeling, not quite drunk, but a little tipsy. You can't get points on your driving licence for being drunk in charge of a bicycle, no doubt they'd find something to charge you with if you were caught. Anyway when I got home I changed and went to bed.

On shift during quiet periods we'd sometimes wondered what it would be like to magically change sex. I said I'd hope if it was going to happen then let it happen during my sleep because, if I have to get up to pee during the night or first thing in the morning I will sit to pee, so I don't have to turn on any lights and I can remain in a semi comatose state.

That is exactly what happened, I'd got up a couple of times to pee during the night and didn't notice anything, except for feeling a bit strange and restless during the night, which I put down to the drink. When I finally got up I sat to pee as usual, but when I put my hand between my legs to shake the drops off there was nothing there. What, how did I pee if I didn't have a penis. I was still half asleep and couldn't work out what was going on! I looked down to see what the problem was and noticed that my pyjama top was bulging in an odd way. I lifted my pyjama top and saw BREASTS? The hand between my legs was wet, it was pee, and what I was touching felt very much like a VAGINA? I quickly grabbed some toilet paper and dabbed it dry, then grabbing my shaving mirror I tried to look up between my legs, yes that was definitely female genitalia I was looking at. HOW? WHAT THE FUCK? HELL!

I was confused, emotional and crying as I curled up on the bed. I must be dreaming. This can't be happening. How do I get out of this? Is it temporary? If it isn't what do I do? With all this going on in my head I must have cried myself to back to sleep.

As a man, apart from the idle chatter on shift of what it would be like to change sex, I had quietly thought about that very subject. What is being a woman like. Dressing up, going out, how are you treated by other people. You seem to forge closer friendships with other women. You often go off to the toilet together, men would never do that, what is it, safety in numbers, or just friendship. Yes I understand that once you were in a cubicle it's more private than standing at a urinal. What's It like to have a period. What's it like to be pregnant and give birth. What's it like to have sex with a man or another woman. What's it like to have an orgasm. I was a little envious, I would never experience any of this. THIS DID NOT MEAN I WANTED TO BE A WOMAN!

2. Adjusting to my new Body

When I next woke I did a quick check and yes I still had a woman's body. Deciding that I couldn't just hide away, hoping it was just a temporary aberration. I needed to do something . Off I went to the bathroom, I had to have a wee, it was a bit messy this time I seemed to dribble onto my thighs and down to my bottom. Patting myself dry wouldn't be enough this time, so I gave myself a good wipe. Was there a right and wrong way to wipe? Should I put my hand between my legs and wipe, or should I reach round the back? Wiping front to back seemed best as I didn't want any chance of poo near my new female parts. Reaching round and under was awkward, but I hadn't grown up doing that, no doubt I would work something out in time, if I remained a woman.

Was there a Haynes manual or some Operating Instructions for a woman's body? I'd have to google that. Time for a bath, l went back to the bedroom stripped off and had a look at my new body in the full length mirror on the back of the wardrobe door.

Gone was the Van Dyke Beard, the hairy chest and stomach, the hair on my arms and legs were noticeably finer and more sparse but I still had a man's haircut. I'd also lost my prominent Adam's apple. What I saw, from a man's point of view was quite an attractive face and body, without being too spectacular, nice firm breasts, hips, buttocks, stomach and this area between my legs that I was still unsure about. As a woman I guess it was just an ordinary body, my body. Back to the bathroom I drew myself a bath and added some Radox muscle soak, climbed in and soaked for five or so minutes. I started to wash, the angles, planes and creases of my new body were unfamiliar, pleasant and strange to touch. I finished my bath, it was just a body after all. I dried off and went back to the bedroom.

What was I going to wear.

There were no women's clothes in the house, although I'd kept Wendy's clothes for a while.

My wife used to say that I had no sense of smell, however I could smell her on her clothes and it was a comfort to smell them, but once the smell wore off I'd donated them to charity, with bras going to the bra bank and her underwear into the clothes bank. I only had my male clothes, so on with the boxer shorts, guess that'd be like wearing French knickers. Socks are socks, jeans, they didn't fit so well anymore, but would do for the time being. t-shirt, a bit too tight, I wasn't ready to go about with my breasts bouncing for all the world to see, so a short sleeve shirt, was more baggy and less obvious. My nipples rubbing against the fabric was a strange sensation it made them hard and stick out.

If you think I was taking this calmly, you couldn't be more wrong. All the while my mind was in turmoil, flitting between one thing and another. How was I going to go into work. How do I even begin to explain this. What will the neighbours think. What about ID's, Driving License, Insurance, Bank accounts, Passport, National Insurance and goodness the list seemed endless. I needed somebody to talk to. Wendy and I didn't have any family, our parents had passed away and we never got round to having children. I didn't have any close friends, there were the people from the cycling club.

Oh.

I couldn't very well turn up on Sunday, as they knew my bikes and an unknown woman riding one of them would be odd. They were just riding companions, not anybody I could confide in.

That left work, after all I spent more time with them than anybody else.

OK I felt closest to Elena and Christine, perhaps I could ring them.

3. Friends Help

I rang Elena first, it went to voicemail, I explained that I had very personal problems that I couldn't discuss over the phone, could she come round so we could talk face to face. Next I rang Christine, after a few rings she picked up, I again explained that I had very personal problems etc. etc. Chris said she would be round in twenty minutes.

Fifteen minutes later the doorbell rang and there was Elena, after getting my message she dropped what she was doing and came straight round. She said Roger sounded distressed where was he? I told her to take a seat, Chris would be here shortly and I would explain everything then.

Sure enough Chris arrived shortly afterwards and wanted to know about Roger. They could both see that I was distressed and assumed something bad had happened to Roger.

I explained that yes something had happened to him and he was now a she and sitting in front of them, this brought exclamations of disbelief.

I asked them to wait and let me finish my explanation. I told them what had happened to me since they last saw me the evening before. If they wanted further proof I told them about a couple of phone calls l'd had on shift. One was from a Jamaican woman, who at the end of the call offered me tea and cakes if I was ever in her neighbourhood. The other, which made everybody laugh at the time, was a male who at the end of the call invited me to have a beer with him at his house, he could play me his Barry Manilow records and I could sit on his knee.

That call was terminated politely but firmly. Both Elena and Chris agreed I could only be who I said I was, but found it difficult to believe I had a female body. I had one identifying feature, but only my wife and doctor knew about the mole in my pubic hair. I didn't want to strip off to prove I had a female's body, so I turned my back to them, undid the shirt buttons an covering my nipples with my fingers, showed them my breasts.

They knew that as a male I hadn't had any spare fat, so what they were seeing weren't man boobs, but the real thing. Still they asked about down there. That was something I wasn't going to show them, I would be too embarrassed. I assured them I no longer had a penis and had a woman's genitals.

They agreed we needed to start planning how I was going to reintegrate into society as a female. By this time it was mid afternoon, and I hadn't had anything to eat yet. Elena went into the kitchen to make us all something to eat and drink.

4. Planning

After we'd eaten Chris took charge. She said I couldn't stay here as the neighbours expected to see Roger pottering about, but an unknown female in Rogers house and no Roger would be a no no. We could sort out what to do about the house in a couple of days. She told me to get a suitcase pack only essentials, as I would need a new wardrobe. I was going to stay with her for a while. So I packed my pyjamas, some toiletries, most of which she ditched as being unsuitable for a woman. My laptop and charger went in. I picked up my bank cards, cash, phone and charger.

Elena said I'd have to change my name, they couldn't keep calling me Roger when we were out and about. That had never occurred to me, I'd been too busy worrying about other details.

We all left in our respective cars and went to Chris' house. If any of the neighbours caught a glimpse of me, with luck they would assume it was Roger.

On the drive to Chris' I thought about what Elena had said. My mother once told me if I'd been born a girl she would have called me Rhona, I liked the sound of that, I'd tell the girls my new name when we got to Chris'.

When we arrived, I told them the name I had thought of, they said it was a lovely name and in a way it was providing a thread to my past. We all sat round Chris' kitchen table, I opened my laptop and launched google sheets, I do like my spreadsheets, to start a list of what needed to happen to bring my life back on track, albeit as a woman.

We decided that if anybody asked, Roger had unexpectedly been called to Manchester, my home town, and we weren't sure at this stage if he would be back. That is also what I would tell the shift manager and I would make a private appointment with Human Remains, sorry Human Resources, to inform them that I now wished to present as a woman. Could I please go back on shift, with my old team, but as if I was a new starter.

As I couldn't disguise my northern accent people would be told that Rhona had just moved from Manchester to Watford.

Elena's brother was an estate agent, we would ask him to put up a for sale sign on the house, but not actually on his books, a week later he could put up a sold sign.

We needed to find a transgender support group, to see if they could help/advise on getting my documents altered.

By this time I was feeling uncomfortable, I needed the loo, my nipples were itching and hard. I assumed that was because I wasn't used to them and they kept rubbing on my shirt, which wasn't the softest of material. I excused myself and went to the loo.The girls had obviously noticed my discomfort because, as I was sat there, I heard Chris outside say

"I've left you a bra and dressing gown on the bannister. That should make you more comfortable. If you fasten the bra at the front then turn it round, put your arms through the straps and pull it up, that makes it easy."

I thanked her but said I already knew that trick I'd seen my wife do that many times.

It was more than a wee I wanted this time, so I wiped my bum clean first, before wiping the rest. Suddenly I got the point about bidets and vowed that when I got home again I would have the bathroom redone to include a bidet. I hadn't dribbled on my thighs this time, so I was pleased with myself. I thought I was beginning to get the hang of this. I should have known nothing is that simple. I was yet to learn that a woman didn't have control of her stream, unlike a man who can aim his. There were other toilet faux pas I would soon make, and there seems to be an unspoken etiquette when using public toilets that I had yet to learn.

I opened the bathroom door grabbed the dressing gown and bra, closed the door stripped off my shirt and jeans, put the bra on, oooh that felt so much better. It was strange wearing a bra, but the support was a relief. I wrapped the lovely fluffy dressing gown around myself. OK it was pink, not my favourite colour, but now I felt a lot more comfortable.

Feeling better I returned to the kitchen and we finished off the list, which I then saved into a folder called M2F on google drive. I made it a shared folder which the girls could access and update. Chris and Elena then started to make an evening meal, while I sent off a quick email to the cycling group. I gave them the Manchester story and asked that one of them, create a shared folder and take over admin of the files I'd set up. There were Google maps with all our cafe stops shown, the next three month runs list, etc. Once done could they let me know and then I would delete my folder. I wished them many happy miles cycling and pressed send.

Then I poured us all a large glass of wine and we sat down to eat.

5. Learning

After the meal Chris said "Right madam time for a bath and when you come out we want to check your legs, underarms and bikini line." They saw the horrified look on my face and burst out laughing.

"Don't worry you can wear panties and a bra, but remember, we're all girls together now. I'll leave you some new knickers in your room. You can owe me a pair when we go shopping tomorrow." Said Chris.

Meanwhile Elena ran me a bath and put in some scented bubble bath, then they left me to it. I got in the bath and had a good long soak, I was feeling calmer now that we had a plan. The water was getting cooler so I washed myself down, dried off, wrapped the dressing gown around myself and trotted of to my room.

A plain pair of Sloggi knickers had been left on the bed for me, I pulled them on, they felt soft and comfortable. I hung the dressing gown on the back of the door and put the bra back on. Taking a deep breath I called the girls and told them I was ready. They came upstairs checked me over and took me back to the bathroom and shaved my underarms, my legs and trimmed my bikini line.

As Elena trimmed my bikini line her hand lightly brushed over my crotch, startled I pulled back. Nothing was said but a look passed between her and Chris. I realised that the bikini line trim was just an excuse to check for any odd bulges and make sure I wasn't trying hide anything between my legs. I blushed bright red, but understood their need to know before this went any further.

Nobody but my wife had touched me down there, but I had different equipment then. I couldn't help but be a little turned on by the thought of her touching me down there now. How would she react if she found her husband was suddenly her wife? I know that if we were watching TV and two women were kissing, she would feel uncomfortable.

By this time Elena had to go home, she gave me a hug, said good luck with the shopping, unfortunately she wouldn't be able to come with us.

Chris gave me a couple of bottles of moisturiser, with instructions to do my face with one bottle and where we'd shaved with the other one. When I was done I was to go downstairs and she would make us a warm drink.

I went back to my room, as I only had one pair of knickers, I took them off to save for tomorrow. It felt strange wearing a bra and no knickers, so that came off as well. Without the knickers on I decided to trim the bikini line a bit more. Where was this obsession with shaving and bikini lines coming from, it was easier being a man, at least you only had to shave your face. I moisturised as instructed, put on my male summer pyjamas and the dressing gown, before going downstairs.

Chris made us both a cup of camomile tea. It was like drinking stewed twigs in my opinion. She told me we were going to Brent Cross in the morning to buy me some basic underwear, nothing sexy, that could wait till I was more confident being a woman. Instead we would go to John Lewis and get a couple of packs of Sloggi Maxi briefs colour nude in size 12 as that was the size she had given me and they seemed to fit well. She said I would need to be measured for a bra as the one she had lent me was a 32D, and she didn't think it was a proper fit.

Apparently John Lewis had an excellent bra fitting service, she saw my worried look, but assured me it was nothing to be afraid of and she would just be the other side of the curtain while I was being measured.

I would also need shoes, at least one handbag, a couple of skirts, jackets and a blouse for more formal wear. For some casual wear we could try one of the concessions in John Lewis, tights, pop socks, etc from M&S, makeup and feminine products from Boots, my head was spinning with all this stuff and I didn't cotton on to what she meant by feminine products.

She wasn't quite finished with the items I would need.

We were going to meet Pamela from work and Chris' girlfriend, Yvonne, for lunch at the Sushi bar by the escalator about 1pm.

"Oh what will they think about all my shopping, a whole new wardrobe?" I asked.

Chris replied "Probably nothing, but if they ask we could say you're waiting for your stuff to be brought down from Manchester."

Yvonne was going to stay at Chris' that night,

"Oh do you want me to sleep on the sofa so she can use your guest room?" I asked.

"Don't be silly she will sleep with me."

"Oh err ... are ... you, ... you ... lovers? I thought you had a boyfriend."

As you may have noticed I can be a bit slow to cotton on at times.

"Yes Yvonne and I are lovers and I do have a boyfriend, I'm bisexual. Both Paul and Yvonne know about each other and are OK with who I am. They know that they are distinct parts of my life and would always be that."

"OK" I said "Elena is straight isn't she? I remember her telling us that when she was in Thailand with her boyfriend a woman tried to come on to her and she shuddered at the thought."