The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

So which charm to try next?

I sat on my bed, newly woken, wearing the tee shirt I had slept in and looking at my bracelet with all its strange charms hanging around its edge. It really was very pretty and intricately detailed. Undeniably a work of craftsmanship and art. What did the charms all do? What would each one do to me? I knew what the man with no head did and I knew what the pretty girl with the most vacant expression did. I looked at the silver phallus. Did that give me an enormous cock for the day and what use would that be? Too big and then it wouldn’t fit in anywhere I’d like to put it. Anyway, without a steady girlfriend, whom was I going to get to try it? I imagined ringing Colette, “Hallo Colette. Remember our trip to the beach a couple of weeks ago? Well how would you like to come round to my place and play with a two-foot cock? Yes really! You see mine’s just expanded for the day; it’s truly enormous and you should see the size of my balls; like grapefruits, you will hardly be able to lift them. Colette? Colette? Hallo, are you still there?”

Not a promising idea really. It sounded like a charm to try for a day on your own with a good magazine or the Internet. If you get my meaning.

I turned the bracelet around in my hand fingering each charm in turn. The day was my own. I had nothing planned, though I might go to the tennis centre later. I liked tennis. I’m quite good actually, and I liked to see the pretty girls in their short white pleated tennis skirts, or shorts at a pinch. Still I could play tennis anytime and who knows how long I would have the bracelet. It had occurred to me its rightful owner might want it back, though as he, or indeed she, had lost it on the Offa’s Dyke path and might have lost it hundreds of years ago the chances seemed slim—but not impossible.

I looked at the hermaphrodite. The detailing really was exquisite, pretty big breasts, a tiny, erect, but anatomically spot on, penis complete with pendulous ball sack. Would this give me breasts for a day? Now that would be fun. Would I get an interesting place between my legs as well? Tempting! I felt my cock rising with the thought of playing with myself. Sad or sad?

Impulsively I stood, unclipped the charm, looped it on a chain and hung it round my neck. The choice was made.

I felt different. My balance felt strange. My tee shirt felt tighter. Looking down I could no longer see my cock; my prominent chest obscured the view. I had breasts, rather big breasts in fact as far as I could see under the material of my shirt. Well, you can imagine I pulled that off straightaway... and stopped. In the process of pulling off the tee shirt I had seen beyond my breasts, down beyond my stomach and saw that my old friend, Willy, was missing. I wasn’t a hermaphrodite at all, the charm didn’t seem to give the attributes of both sexes, it simply, it seemed, swapped you over. I was a girl for the day!

I went exploring. You think you know your own body: but this was my own body but subtly, or perhaps not subtly, different. All the nerve connections, all the feeling but coming from a very different body though, as I came to realise, recognisably me—but changed. I looked at myself in the mirror—the full-length mirror—now I’m not a bad looking bloke but as a girl I was terrific. I feel, with this being a one-day event, I do not need to be modest about myself! Lips much fuller, long hair and, I thought, certainly no need to shave today because my chin was as smooth as a baby’s bum. I looked downwards; perhaps I might try a little shaving there. My usual pubic profusion, which framed my cock, looked perhaps a little untidy in the vee of my cockless loins. I waggled my hips a little moving my thighs forward and back. “Sexy” I thought. Had ‘Willy’ been there he would have responded but he was gone—or at least hiding in a new anatomical position. If I went out I would perhaps need to do something about the hair under my arms, which ordinarily I wouldn’t have given a second thought to. I reached up and cupped my breasts. They felt good in my hands, as I felt their weight. I noticed their much greater sensitivity compared to their usual state. I toyed with the nipples, so much bigger and more prominent in their areolae than usual. I could see, no feel, why girls like their breasts being played with so much. The feeling, the electric shivers, so much stronger than in my normal state. I smoothed my hands down the roundness of my developed hips and thought that perhaps it would be an idea to go back to bed for a little play.

Under the covers I toyed with my breasts, trying out different things and resultant feelings. I particularly enjoyed sucking my own nipples, not of course something I had ever been able to do before as a man. My fingers crept lower. It was an odd feeling slipping my finger down the curly pubic hair and not coming across my cock but instead finding a thin valley leading downwards. It was even odder, but very exciting to feel the wetness between my thighs where normally there was just smooth skin and hair. I touched the soft wet folds with my fingers. A very different feeling from pulling at my cock but then came an even odder experience as I pushed my fingers up into myself. So that was what having a vagina felt like! Naturally my fingers played on, stirring around, as I closed on my old friend, now mostly hidden up inside of me: Mr. Willy in his, or indeed her guise, as Miss Clit. Similar to touching the nerve endings around the frenum, yet the amount of liquid around and the complexity of all the folds was actually very different. I imagined Colette licking me there whilst I licked her, and the feelings strengthened. I could sense something building. A feeling quite different from when I was about to ejaculate. I played on, my breathing becoming quicker, my hips bucking as I flicked at my newfound clit and pulled at a breast. I knew what I wanted to achieve and the erotic images in my head were helping me towards that climax.

I was surprised at its intensity, the explosion in my head to say nothing of the length of my first female orgasm. Certainly something I recommend you should try, should the opportunity present itself. I lay back in bed warm, damp and relaxed.

I awoke half an hour later, still sweaty and in need of a shower. I lay there thinking of the experience and what I should do about the day. Normally when I was in bed alone and, well playing with myself, my mind would be full of images of girls, probably following an increasingly erotic theme, story or idea in my mind. I noticed, perhaps with a little detachment, that my mind during my play had not thought about men, particularly naked men, at all. If not thinking just about my own changed body it was still girls I had on my mind. It seemed therefore that whilst my body had dramatically changed it was still very much me inside: not a female version of me who, presumably, would have been attracted to men. I noted, with some relief, that the prospect of a handsome, erect man lying on top of me, fingers pulling at my breasts and cock pushing into me did not excite. I found the idea of a pretty naked girl on top of me much more alluring.

I had my shower—which was a lot more interesting than it normally is—and got dressed: or rather tried to get dressed. My trousers didn’t do up because my hips were too wide, my breasts were stretching my tee shirt and, I thought, rather too clearly defined by the material. I seemed to have gone all coy all of a sudden. I needed some girl’s clothes but was a bit loath to go shopping on my own. I rang Nick.

“Hallo Nick what are you doing,” I said.

“Who’s that?” queried Nick.

That threw me.

“Me,” I said.

“Who’s that?”

It dawned on me that my voice was not my usual voice. I should have thought of that. “It’s me, you idiot, I’ve used another charm. I’ve turned into a girl.”

“Never. You haven’t. This I’ve got to see. I’ll be round.”

“No, I’ll come to you. I need to go shopping for some girl’s stuff.”

A rather shapeless figure in tracksuit bottoms and hoody appeared at Nick’s door. Once inside I threw back the hood.

“Wow, is that really you! You’re stunning! And I never thought in a million years I’d say that about you!”

“What better than Colette?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. So, your clothes don’t fit?”

“Nothing does really even underpants. They’re too tight around the hips.”

“So you’ve nothing under those tracksuit bottoms?

“Look,” I said, pulling off the hoody. I need a bra to hold these things still.

Nick gaped at my tee shirted chest. “Those can’t be real?”

“Course they are, I’ve told you, the charm has changed me into a girl for the day.”

“Everything’s there. Have you...”

“Course I’ve felt it all. I spent the last hour or so exploring.”

“Wow, interesting, can I, can I have a look?”

This was not going quite as I had expected. I wanted some girl clothes. I wanted to go out rather than sit at home. Nick had a sister away at Uni. who was about my size and I thought either he could lend me some of her stuff or would help me with some shopping. I hadn’t reckoned on doing a strip tease for him.

“What I wondered, Nick, was whether I could see if your sister has got some clothes that’d fit or else, as I said, we could go shopping.”

“Oh right, yeah, don’t see why not, let’s have a look.”

We went upstairs to his sister’s room. Nick was not too comfortable rifling through her ‘smalls’ drawer but it certainly didn’t worry me, but of course there was not too much there as she had taken most of it with her. “Do you think this will fit?” I said dangling a bra in one hand. Nick brightened.

“Try it on.”

I pulled off my tee shirt.

“Hold it, they are even more magnificent than I thought. Mind if I touch?”

Well, I could not easily refuse such a request from my best friend. It was not as if I was really a girl or they were really mine. It was a perfectly reasonable and understandable request; it was a bit like lending him a copy of ‘Playboy’, ‘Mayfair’, ‘Nuts’ or something. That said it was very strange having Nick reach out and take my tits in his hands and play with them.

“Enjoy that?”

“You bet. I cannot believe this is really you. You’re so sexy and, if you don’t mind me saying so, you certainly aren’t usually. Go on take those bottoms off, or better still let me pull them down.”

I backed away but, again, could not really think why not. This was not my real body and I had been as interested as Nick now was earlier. Indeed I was still fascinated by my new body and how different it was from usual.

“Alright,” I said, and gave a little tug to my waistband letting a bit of hip and a hint of my patch of curly hair show. I was amused to see Nick’s reaction.

“You’re not usually as pleased to see me as that,” I said in a matter of fact way pointing at the bulge in his trousers. I pulled my bottoms a bit further down and Nick’s eyes grew wider.

“Very nice, very nice indeed. You don’t half make a great looking girl.”

It was a new experience standing naked being ogled. Slightly embarrassed I did that putting first one thigh, then the other forward thing. You know a bit of a wiggle.

“Are you really all there?” said Nick.

“Well you can’t see my dick can you? All gone for the day. Leastways I hope it’s a day. I’m relying on the earlier experiences.”

“Can I have a look?”

“What between my legs? This feels very odd Nick.”

“I’m very happy to feel some more how odd it is,” laughed Nick, “yes please.”

I lay down on the bed and opened my legs, “like what you see, big boy”.

“Very pretty, very sexy—not something I could ever have thought I’d say about you. This is certainly weird but you have a terrific body.”

I felt Nick touching me, first on my thighs then moving around across my mons, then getting quite personal.

“You’re not wet!”

“No Nick of course not. I don’t fancy you, I’ve never fancied you, and you do not turn me on at all. I want to make that very plain!”

“But shouldn’t you like men today?”

“Honestly Nick, even if I did and you were the only man left in the world I would not... and you aren’t meant to hit a women!”

“So you’re a lesbian!”

“No, I’m me in a woman’s body. I like girls. I’m a straight bloke who just looks a bit different today and, Nick, doing that is not going to make me wet.”

Nick looked disappointed, “I thought perhaps. Well seeing as you’ve this great body you might perhaps, well, blow me or let me fuck you.”

“You must be joking Nick, imagine this is you in here—would you like me to put my cock in your mouth?”

“No way, no way,” he visibly recoiled at the idea, which was amusing. He recovered his thoughts quickly, “but I’m happy to go down on you like that, no problem for as long as you like. Anyway what about fucking that would be different wouldn’t it? What’s the objection to that? Surely you’d like to know what it feels like to have a big hard cock inside you. Now that must be interesting.”

“Yes that does sound interesting indeed. Pity there isn’t anyone with a big cock around here to try with!”

“Bastard!”

All good matey banter notwithstanding one of the blokes was a naked girl with a husky feminine voice. Now what should I do? It seemed a bit unfair not to let Nick ‘have a go’ with this body and certainly I was intrigued to feel what a penis did feel like inside.

“OK then but no kissing, these lips may look very kissable. I can see that in the mirror but you try sticking your tongue in my mouth and your balls will be flatter than Frisbees.”

Now it was interesting to see Nick had no hesitation in pulling off his clothes and trying to touch me but it was different for me, I had a great deal more hesitation in how I responded to his advances.

“Look Nick I really don’t want to be face to face.”

“Ok, bend over.”

I was about to comply when it occurred to me that I was effectively presenting my bottom to my best friend, way too gay by far for me.

“On second thoughts you lie on the bed, I’ll sit on you.”

Nick was quick to comply. I looked at him; well I’d seen him like this before with Colette so his hard penis was nothing new. I got up on the bed and sat astride his thighs, his balls almost touching my changed sex. Naturally Nick began to fondle my breasts with enthusiasm. It was not unpleasant but it was not getting me excited. I tried thinking of Colette and Lesley, the redhead from the beach. Better, but I was hardly aroused.

“Nick this isn’t going to work. I’m too dry for you to get in. Comfortably for me anyhow. Have you anything to assist?”

“How about some butter like in Last Tango in Paris we watched last month.”

“Touch my arse and you’re a dead man.”

“Let’s see what Sis. has got. Nivea—that’ll do. Lie back and I’ll see what I can do.”

Nick’s enthusiastic application of the cream was not actually unpleasant. If it hadn’t been him but Lesley I’d have really enjoyed it. Nick, certainly, was having a great time and I did not begrudge that. Rather than start with my sex he’d taken a large dollop from the jar and applied it to my left nipple rubbing it in with enthusiasm. The initial coldness of the cream and the slipperiness of the application quickly made the nipple stand up.

“See, you are getting turned on. Why don’t you suck my cock?”

I’d looked at him with his stiff cock waggling around as he worked at my breast, “Hardly. Nick, really I don’t find you at all stimulating and the idea of sucking your dick is, frankly, repulsive!”

Nonetheless I was relaxing into the experience and actually quite enjoying the feel of cream coated hands massaging my breasts and hard nipples. What would it be like sucking a cock anyway? I’d always assumed it must be great for a girl, something big to play with, something that would show a clear reaction to stimulation, an oral pleasure indeed! It must be enjoyable for a girl to take a limp cock into her mouth and feel it expand, feel the pumping of the blood erecting the organ, the expanding smoothness of the cock head and... No, I thought, I really can’t do that—way too embarrassing. I was kneeling, thighs apart and actually quite looking forward to when Nick’s hands would drop lower. I did not have to wait long. First he massaged the soft skin of my inner thighs with the cold slippery cream, before he began to run his fingers closer in to my sex. He took a fresh load of the cream and I almost jumped when the coldness of the cream touched me right between the lips. Nick massaged it in lubricating what might, I admit, already have been lubricating itself a bit. Pushing him back on the bed I shuffled back into position, my sex inches from his erect penis. I looked at it, I looked at Nick.

“I suppose,” I said with a mock sigh, “that I’d better touch it?” I reached out and lifted it off his stomach. Of course I’d held my own enough times but it was different holding another’s penis. You rather accept your own rigidity but the solidness within the softness did surprise. I gently pulled his foreskin up and down. I had the advantage over the novice girl in that I knew what worked and what was uncomfortable. Years of practice you see...

Nick groaned. I squeezed his cock hard, “No coming too soon, I don’t want to find my hand covered before I’ve had a chance to ride it. That is what I’m on this bed with you for.” I shuffled further forward and held Nick’s cock upright and settled down a little so I could stroke myself with it. I liked the sensations; I particularly liked the soft head rubbing across my clit. Oh yes, I was getting the hang of this.

Positioning the cockhead at my opening I pushed down and felt the entrance to my virgin vagina opening to admit Nick, inch by inch he went in as I continued my descent until I was resting on his thighs, his cock fully within me.

“Well Nick if Colette could see you now.”

“Yeah, well, she wouldn’t recognise you and what would she care.”

I lifted upwards feeling Nick sliding back out of me. It was a good feeling, a very different feeling being on the outside rather than the inside, made better when Nick began to massage my clit with his fingers. I began to bounce faster, Nick’s other hand holding on to my bottom steadying me.

Bending forward I could watch fascinated as Nick’s cock came in and out of me. A very stimulating sight, not least because I was seeing the act from a completely new perspective

To my astonishment I realised I was not far off coming, just a little more and I might go over the edge. I pushed up and down harder feeling the hard cock inside of me rubbing at me, Nick’s fingers at my clit and then, disaster, he groaned and I could feel, actually feel, him spurting into me, one shot, then another and another. I could feel the greater lubrication. I too was almost there but I already seemed to be losing some feeling, the stiffness within me disappearing—Nick was going soft on me and I hadn’t yet come.

“No, stay hard,” I cried rather pointlessly because Nick could do nothing about it. There was not much of him left to push against and with another lunge he was dislodged and fell out of me.

“Fuck me with your fingers quick.”

I lent forward and watched Nick’s fingers pushing up into me, simulating the motion of a cock moving in and out, fingers now covered in the translucent ejaculate beginning to drip from me. The sensation coupled with the erotic sight before me tipped me over and I came experiencing for a second time that day a female orgasm.

“Well,” said Nick after a time, “that was really great. Enjoyed that. Yeah, thanks. You didn’t seem to mind it too much either. Tell you what, you lend me the charm sometime and I’ll let you do the same to me. I can’t see this as gay at all. Not with a body like yours!”

“Yes, but the point is it’s me inside. You’re body does nothing for me. What got me, in a funny way, is watching what you were doing to this body and of course feeling it. It’s a bit like a porn movie only with sensation... no I’m not sure that is a good analogy. It’s not like anything really. It’s most peculiar. Right I want a shower ‘cos I’m all sticky. Look at this mess!”

Washed, I collected some of Nick’s sister’s clothes and got dressed. Another new experience for me. Pulling on panties, doing up a bra (my experience, along with most men, was in undoing bras. I had never had need to do one up!) and finding doing up buttons the wrong way around surprisingly difficult.

My idea was to go on to the local tennis centre. A place I knew well as I played tennis and swam there at least once a week.

It was only when I got my membership card out at the tennis club that I spotted a possible flaw in my idea of playing tennis. I was indeed a member and the card genuine but of course the photograph on it did not now really do me justice. I was a very feminine looking girl, whereas the photograph, and usually I’d be proud of the fact, showed a very masculine face particularly as it was taken during my, not over successful, bearded phase. The ‘M’ rather than ‘F’ under ‘Sex’ was also a bit of a giveaway. I decided to chance it as no one had ever looked at it anyway and the swipe card turnstile wouldn’t know the difference. The receptionist however watched me come in, watched me go through the turnstile and I was sure his eyes were following me as I walked, getting more and more nervous and no doubt more and more red in the face, towards the changing room door expecting any moment to hear his voice call me back.

“Excuse me miss.”

My hand froze on the changing room door, how was I going to explain this. I could say the card was my brother’s and I had picked it up by mistake but the records would not show me under whatever name I made up on the spur of the moment, perhaps I could say I was in drag but honestly I looked far better than that, I... really had no idea what to say.

“That’s the wrong door, that’s the male changing room.”

I’d been so off put by the membership card that I’d forgotten my main purpose in coming to the tennis centre to have a look at some of the tennis girls in the female changing room and showers. I’d been on ‘automatic’ and gone straight for my usual door with the picture of a man on it. I turned and gave the receptionist a dazzling smile.

“Oops silly me, that could have been mega embarrassing. Thank you so, so much.” I scuttled through the other door without any hesitation and found myself in the midst of a large school party from the local sixth form college. I couldn’t have timed my visit better if I’d planned it for weeks in advance. There were bras, nipples and breasts everywhere I turned. Girls in the showers, girls coming out of the showers, naked as the day they were born, rubbing down their bodies with towels. White girls, brown girls and a stunningly black girl standing in a shower cubicle with the water cascading down her gently rubbing shower gel into the dark curly hair at the join of her thighs. If I had had my mind control power.... but I hadn’t and all I could do was stare.

“There’s a space here,” said a voice next to me. I turned and got another surprise. Sitting on one of the benches right by me was Lesley the red haired girl from a beach. Well, Colette had said she played tennis but what a co-incidence that she should be here the day I came into the female changing room.

“I, er thanks, busy isn’t it”

She was sitting lacing up her shoes but not hurrying seeming happy to sit watching and listening immersed in the sea of female flesh, noise, chat and laughter swirling around us. I sat and began to change into Nick’s sister’s tennis things but enjoying the spectacle around me. The girls seemed to take very little notice of Lesley and me and it was not long before dressed and tennis gear stuffed in bags the noisy throng had departed.

Lesley watched me stand, pull my jeans down and pull on some white frilly tennis knickers (the type I really like to see though, you will appreciate, not normally on me) and button a white skirt around me.

“Phew. What a noise,” said Lesley, “pretty though.” She looked at me quizzically, “’specially the tall black girl, saw you looking at her.”

“Yes, sort of difficult not to. Stunning. A career in modelling if she wants it, I’d think.”

“Want a game?”

And so I found myself on the tennis court with Lesley. She was good. An excellent player though ordinarily I would have beaten her but my game was not too good that day. I wasn’t put off by Lesley or anything like that, it was just my balance was all wrong. I was not used to the change in weight dispersion, musculature or height. I wasn’t awful, I wasn’t embarrassing—I just didn’t win.

We sat drinking orange juice in the bar after a few sets.

Lesley was looking at me with interest, “Fancy lunch. I’ve got some salad back at my place?”

I wasn’t going to turn the offer down and my hopes of some interesting developments heightened when Lesley said, “let’s not shower here—it’ll be quieter at home.”

Leaving my car Lesley drove us back into town. She had a nice flat.

“Lunch or shower first?”

“Shower I think.”

Lesley showed me to her large bathroom. Not only did it have a shower but a large corner bath as well.”

“Wow,” I said, “impressive. Must take a lot of water to fill the bath, not good for the gas bill.”

She laughed, “Ah, but it saves water, room for two at once...want to try?”

Bingo. This was going to be good.

As the water ran and the bubbles mounted up in the bath I felt an increasing excitement but of course no tenting of my skirt as I was penis-less today, but I could feel a certain discernible wetness between my legs. This was much more interesting than poor old Nick.

Naked, Lesley took my hand to help me into the bath; I put one foot in to test the water (hot) and as I stepped in our lips brushed. Gingerly, for the water was very hot, I settled down and looked up at Lesley stepping into the large bath. Once again I was able to admire her profusion of red curly hair as I had done on the beach some weeks before. But this time I was going to get to touch. She really was something to see, those little breasts I had watched with such interest at the beach, her petite figure and that riot of flame red curls.

Lesley settled beside me and we lay side by side in the hot water with our shoulders and hips touching. Even that was erotic, the slight oiliness of the bubble bath meant our skin slid easily against each other’s with only the slightest friction. We lay and chatted for ten minutes or so neither doing anything and then Lesley picked up the soap and began to wash me without a break in conversation.

That was certainly an experience, feeling Lesley’s hands working their away around my body leaving the most interesting bits until last. It was as fun to repeat the process but this time me washing Lesley. Getting my wish that day back at the beach of being able to touch, and touch I did! My hands cupping those little breasts feeling the hard points of her nipples in the palms of my hands. Stroking those curls and their remarkable colour before massaging the soft folds hidden between her legs. Then we kissed, pulling ourselves together so our soapy, oily breasts pushed together, our tongues played together and Lesley’s thigh slipped between my own.

Drying each other with big warm bath towels was also fun. I was surprised how enjoyable the simple rubbing, albeit skilful rubbing of a bath towel could be. I was not surprised at the pleasure to be had from the soixante-neuf position on the bathroom carpet. Now I had done this before but being able to exactly duplicate what your partner is doing added a very different dimension. Not just touching but able to gaze in close proximity to Lesley’s flame red curls, to see them not only as a vee but to follow their trail down. Little wispy red curls framing the pink damp folds that formed a secret, and so interesting, valley between her thighs. Not just looking but tasting, letting my tongue wander, tickling, licking, swirling and sucking giving Lesley pleasure. As, of course, she was reciprocating sending me towards a third climax. I was having a good day.

The lunch drifted into an afternoon and on into the evening. An evening of wine, women and song as Lesley took me out to a very different scene to the one I was accustomed to. We came home to her flat late and made love for a long time. Exhausting but wonderful.

I awoke in the daylight and lay, in a half doze, feeling warm and comfortable. After a time I began, as I usually do, to think what I had to do that day. A slight movement beside me reminded me I was in bed with Lesley. What a day yesterday had been, I thought back over it all in my mind as I lay peaceful and content half listening to the birds on the windowsill. I opened my eyes and looked at my watch. Quarter to nine. Quarter to nine! I had about fifteen minutes of my 24 hours left—I wasn’t sure of the exact time—when, presumably in line with the other charms, I turned back into a man. I shot out of bed pulled on Nick’s sister’s tennis gear as fast as I could. Lesley awoke.

“Got to go, sorry, early appointment, forgot. Lovely day, Bye.” I kissed her and was off out of the flat and down the road before she could even get out of bed. Pity about the late awakening. Another session in bed with Lesley would have been great.

I ran and ran. It was a long way to my place and I had left my car at the tennis centre. Racing round a corner I realised my balance had changed, the tennis shoes felt tight and my clothes didn’t fit. I was back as a man. Hopefully nobody saw the change as I ran on, though people did now start to look at me rather strangely. I kept running.

Why are neighbours always around when you don’t want them? I had to explain to two of them as I neared my home that I’d been to a fancy dress party the night before, had stayed overnight and, yes, my wig was in the bag over my shoulder. Inside I looked at myself in the mirror when I got in. I looked ridiculous. Frilly white panties and a short white skirt do not suit my hairy legs or the stubble on my chin. I fished inside the panties; it was good to have Mr. Willy back. I gave him an affectionate squeeze and thought of Lesley. I’d had a great day, though I’d nearly messed things up properly this morning. What a fantastic experience both being a girl for a day and being with Lesley. I’d really like to fuck her properly of course but such a thing was rather unlikely to happen. We’d got on really well though as two girls. What on earth would she think of my abrupt departure?

I rang Nick. “Hallo it’s me.”

“Ah, sounds like you today. Not half as pretty, no doubt. Well, what happened after you left?”

“Tell you tonight over a glass of beer. I’ll bring your sister’s things round.”

I put the phone down and went to shower and change but first carefully putting the hermaphrodite, or rather sex change charm, back on the bracelet. What to try next? The charms were not always what they seemed.