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No  Special  Effects

by  Daedalus

     This story contains what is known as "transgender material".
     It does NOT contain any elements of m/m, s/m, b/d,
     humiliation, pain, or anatomically detailed descriptions of
     sexual acts.  If this lack offends you, do yourself a favour
     and read no further.

     All characters and situations described herein are fictional
     and any resemblance to any real or fictional persons or
     events is purely coincidental.

     The story may be freely copied, archived and distributed on
     the condition of this header remaining its integral part.

We were kissing and petting on the sofa, to the sounds of her favourite
Prince album, when Neera suddenly pulled away from me, put her finger
to her lips and flashing me that dazzling white smile of hers, said
"Shhhh...  This is the one I really like..."

Pop has never been my strong suit.  I am more into the heavier guitar
stuff myself, but there was no way I was going to tell Neera that it
all sounded the same to me.  Well...  Nearly the same, anyway.  "If I
were your girlfriend..." sighed the little bugger on the CD and so I
mentally switched him off and feasted my eyes on the sight of Neera,
curled up on the sofa next to me, listening ever so seriously.

She's tall and dark, with all the right curves, but with rather
athletic shoulders, which to my enfatuated mind simply provide a lovely
counterpoint to the narrow waist and the perky, perfectly shaped
breasts.  Her legs are long, her teeth indecently white, her eyes
black, as is her long heavy mane of glossy hair, and the sound of her
voice is a heavenly, head turning sing-song.

When the track finished, she snuggled up to me and nibbled my ear.
While my fingers were following the curve of her breast, leisurely
aiming for the nipple, in the sure knowledge of finding it large and
hard, she let go of my earlobe and with her hand gently tracing the
line of my jaw from the ear down, whispered huskily:  "Nick, would YOU
like to be my girlfriend?"

I briefly groped in my memory for any trace of the lyrics of the song,
hoping to work what might be meant on that startling question, but when
I tune out, I tune out -- I drew a complete blank.

"Um...  How do you mean?" I said eventually, my fingers finally closing
on the nipple.  She wriggled with pleasure and rubbed her other hand
over my bulging crotch.

"I mean...  literally.  Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

Hard though it was to do, I pulled away and looked her square in the
eyes.  They were as lively as ever, perhaps with a hint of mischief,
suggesting that she was up to something -- most likely up to pulling my
leg.  Though English wasn't her first language (not with that lilting
accent of hers), it was very fluent and if she wanted it to, quite
precise.  Still, one could pretend otherwise...

"My lady," I said with the utmost gravity.  "I fear you have come
across a serious limitation of the English language.  With all the will
in the world, I cannot be your girlfriend, for the simple reason that,
not to put too fine a point on it, I am not a girl."

"Oh, pfui!..." she laughed back at me, "Such details!  We can always
fix that!"

That took me aback.  "What?  You'd have me prancing around in drag,
bewigged and made up?" Somehow that didn't seem her style.

Neera put her pretty face to one side and considered me with a mock
deliberation.  Then she shook her head:  "Let's admit it, you have no
face or figure for that.  You'd look silly...  I suppose that might
have an appeal of its own, but...  No, I just thought it would be fun
turning you into a pretty girl."

I just stared.  Well, wouldn't you too?  Neera had clearly gone bonkers
and I wasn't sure how far to humour her.  However, I was still very
much in lust with her and precious near to being in love too.

She must have misinterpreted my stare.  "A lesbian, if you prefer.  But
very beautiful -- truly.  And sexy as hell."

Try humouring that!  "What on Earth are you talking about?!"

She laughed -- that delightful ringing laugh that only Neera can do
without sounding affected.  "You don't believe me, do you?  You think
I'm nuts?" Without warning she switched into a hammed up sulk, turning
her head to present me with the uplifted, pouting profile:  "You are no
gentleman, Nick.  Here I am trying to make a lady out of you and are
you grateful?  Bah!..." She tossed her head and turned away altogether.

Now, I am not overly endowed in the sensitivity department, but even I
could tell that I was being wound up, and that a hearty laugh, a good
kiss and an apology for boorish manners would make everything all
right.  Which they did.  But I was still left wondering what it had it
all been about.

I was wondering even more when late that night, after some hectic love
making, Neera snuggled up to me, licked behind my ear and murmured:
"The offer still stands.  You'd enjoy being a girl, I promise you
that." With these words she put a finger across my lips, forestalling
any response, kissed me on the nose, rolled over and instantly went to
sleep.  That's something I've always envied her, being able to drop off
at the drop of a hat.

For myself, I lay there sleepless for quite a while, wondering what'd
got into her.

                                 * * *

I expected to hear no more of that foolishness, but Neera returned to
it a few nights later.  We were resting in bed, with her on top of me
and me still inside her, when she propped herself on her elbows staring
into my eyes almost nose to nose.  She calls it playing cyclops,
because when you do that, it looks like your partner only has one eye.

"Still don't want to be my girlfriend?" she enquired.  "I rather
thought allowing yourself to be re-fashioned into a lesbian beauty
would appeal by the delightful decadence of the notion..." She giggled,
giving me a squeeze with her pussy.  "Quite apart, that is, from your
honourable member responding to the suggestion in its own right!"

She had a point on both counts.  I'd never been unhappy with my
maleness -- quite the contrary, as Neera herself had good reasons to
know.  Nevertheless, however absurd and fantastic, the notion of her
turning me into a pretty girl with the explicit purpose of indulging in
all-female sexual delights...  It had a curious mixture of wickedness,
innocence and, yes, elegant decadence, which my body did respond to
whether I willed it or not.

"Neera," I said.  "Love.  Wise one.  Witch.  Angel.  You are right as
ever.  I thank you for the delightful fantasy -- it does have a kind of
shivery appeal.  But let's face it.  I am a man.  A rather handsome one
at that, I flatter myself to think, in a way which is quite
un-feminine.  We already agreed that I would look ridiculous in drag,
and I am not into the humiliation scene and I don't think you are
either.  As for hormones, knives and what-not...  so sorry."

Neera was shaking her head vigorously.  "Details," she said
impatiently.  "Such silly details.  No hormones.  No knives.  I ask a
simple question, like would you like to be my girlfriend, and you
complicate it out of all proportion.  Men -- honestly!..."

She pulled herself off me, rolled onto her side and put her head on my
shoulder, her hand finding my still erect penis and caressing it

"Nick, be a sport...  Just say yes...  Please..."

It is hard to refuse a beautiful woman ministering to you in such a
way.  "OK..." I said, "Yes.  Hypothetically speaking.  If it were
possible to wave a magic wand...  Yes.  It would be an interesting

Neera laughed merrily, pulling herself upwards.

"Thank you!" she said, planting a big smacker of a kiss on my willing
lips, rolled over and went to sleep -- just like that.  What can you do
with such an imp of a woman?  Answer:  you cherish her, nuts or not.

With those thoughts I myself slipped into sleep much quicker and easier
than I would have expected.

That night I had some confused dreams -- my unconscious clearly working
overtime on the raw material of Neera's fantasy proposal.  In one of
them we were in a large department store, with me trying on a variety
of female bodies and Neera criticising all of them on patently silly
grounds, like "No, no, no...  It's got a mole on the right buttock...
That won't do...  Excuse me, would you have one in this size and colour
but with a left hand mole?  No?  Well, get out of that Nick and try...
Let's see...  How about this one?"

This dream played itself in several variants through the night until
finally the dream Neera said "That will do, I think.  Do you like it?
Does it fit under the arms?  And I rather like its wide shoulders,
don't you?  A nice contrast with that narrow waist and girly hips and
posterior, no?..." And without giving me any chance of replying to any
of these question, or of pointing out that I had no idea what the body
looked like because there were no mirrors in sight, she turned to a
shadowy assistant:  "Right we'll take this one.  Do you have to pack it
or can he keep it on?" I ask you!

The upshot was that I woke up almost believing that I might find myself
wearing a female body purchased in the dream.  Neera was still asleep
next to me, despite the sunshine pouring in through the window, and so
I was rather cautious in my quick exploration of my anatomy.  I felt a
real fool, finding a penis still hung between my legs, a flat chest
and, somewhat to my regret, small man-sized nipples.  I felt relieved
too, though curiously enough also somehow cheated.

Despite my care, I obviously managed to disturb Neera's sleep, because
she snuggled up to me with her eyes open.  "Good morning, beautiful!"
she said brightly.  I grinned back at her and chanted:  "Good morning,
good morning, good mo-o-orning!".  She freed a hand from under the
blanket and ran it along my chin and then lightly down my body, over a
nipple, into my groin for a quick but very sexy "handshake".

"Well, get up," she said, "And let me have a look at you!"

I considered objecting to being evicted from a snug bed on such a
flimsy pretence, but the morning was beautiful and I felt awake and
very much alive.  So I got out of the bed and playing up the
"girlfriend" conceit of hers, pirouetted slowly, raising my arms over
my head.

Neera laughed.  "You'll do!" she declared.  "Come here and have a look
yourself," she nodded at the wall mirror by her side of the bed.  Still
humouring her, I did as suggested...  and had the shock of my life.

"Nicky, dear," said Neera smugly after a few seconds, "I think you'll
agree that with a bit of careful padding you could now wear my cloths
without anybody batting an eyelid."

I was too stunned to respond, but the mirror made it abundantly clear
that she was right.  Looking back at me was the strangest creature.  It
was thoroughly feminine in its overall contours.  Smooth long legs
flowed into shapely hips and a very feminine posterior, yet with a
hairless penis slowly lifting itself in the groin, out of the patch of
silky hair, with no other body hair to be seen anywhere.  Fairly wide,
athletic shoulders atop a hairless but quite flat torso, narrowing to a
small waist.  Smooth arms with delicate but long-fingered hands.  The
curve of the long neck uninterrupted by an Adam's apple, and a lovely
face atop it, crowned by a cap of closely cropped light hair...  My
penis was responding rapidly to this strange vision, and on the
conscious level I too found it mightily attractive, however bizarre.

Yet the stupid thing was, my body felt entirely mine.  The mirror made
it clear that I was now woman-shaped, but I didn't feel any different.
My body proportions were changed, but my balance and movements remained
quite unaffected.  My hairless skin felt normal and familiar...

"How?...  What?...", I stopped.  The voice was my ordinary voice, but
since when was my ordinary voice a husky contralto?  It sounded normal
and familiar to my ears, but having been alerted by the image in the
mirror, I was suddenly very aware that it did not match my memory of my
voice yesterday.  It hadn't occurred to me previously that the mirror
might be simply lying, but now with the additional confirmation from my
ears, that explanation was gone even before being examined.  I ran a
quick check anyway, with my eyes and my hands, twisting my head over my
shoulder and sticking my bum out, peeking at my hairless armpits,
feeling the perfect smoothness of my thighs -- only to confirm that the
mirror told no lies.

Neera climbed out of the bed and stood naked next to me.  Looking at
our reflections, it was clear that we were practically the same height
and almost identical in shape -- except for her breasts and my penis.
She hadn't been joking about the cloths.

Her thoughts were obviously running parallel to mine:  "We'll have to
tuck you in, when you are not so excited, and the bra will need
padding, but otherwise...  What do you fancy for today?  A dress?  A
skirt and a blouse?  A pair of pants?  Heels?  You can wear anything
now..." She smiled.  "Even man's cloths!  And look good in those too."

She turned me towards her, stood on her toes, deftly slid herself onto
my erect shaft and putting her arms around my narrow waist, gently
asked:  "Like it?"

Only the absolute truth would do, however strange:  "Yes..." I sighed,
as she slowly massaged me inside her.

Needless to say, we wound back in the bed again and didn't get up until
much later.

When we did, I quickly realised I had a problem - my briefs were far
too tight and my jeans no longer fit round my hips at all.  Neera
gleefully offered her exercise briefs and jeans.  The briefs were fine
and the jeans would have fitted me like a glove, I suppose, except that
they made no allowance for my male equipment, which would have to be
squashed out of existence.  Spurning the offer of a skirt, I settled
for a T-shirt (Neera's - she insisted she didn't like the look of my
own ones on my new frame) tucked into a pair of harem trousers.

Finally dressed, I settled down to tea and toast.  Only after putting
away some breakfast did I nerve myself to ask THE question, which I'd
been studiously avoiding even thinking about.

"Neera," I said taking the bull by the horns, "An explanation is in
order.  What the hell is going on?"

She was all innocence:  "Why...  You consented to becoming my
girlfriend.  That's all."

"Cut the nonsense.  I've CHANGED. One doesn't change just by agreeing
to a pleasant sex fantasy!  WHAT IS GOING ON? You knew this was going
to happen.  In fact, I think you MADE it to happen!"

"What a strange idea!..." Those black eyes were all innocence.


"OK, OK...  Don't get so excited...  Of course I did.  It's a trick my
grandma taught me...  Don't pretend you don't like what's happening to
you." She lightly ran her nails along my smooth arm and then along my
equally smooth (though unshaved) jaw, but I refused to be distracted.

"Are you expecting me to believe you have supernatural powers?  Powers
of such magnitude that you can overnight...  do this to a man?"

"Nick, you are just being silly.  If I say yes, you'll refuse to
believe it.  If I said no, you'll refuse that too.  Just accept for the
moment that it's happening, so it must be possible."

And from that she would not budge.  So I tried a different angle.

"Well, at least explain why I don't FEEL any different!"

"Why should you?  You are still you, aren't you?  Naturally your idea
of yourself adjusted together with your body.  Otherwise you wouldn't
be you.  You'd be you stuck in somebody else's body."

"And I am not???"

"Not.  You are you.  Just deliciously feminized!  Come on, finish that
toast.  I can't wait to see you in a decent make-up."

Strangely enough, neither could I. Maybe there was something in her
implication that my mind got feminized in tune with my body.  I suppose
the thought should have worried me.  Paradoxically, it sent a tiny
shiver of sexual thrill down my spine.  No, let me be quite honest.  It
wasn't THAT tiny!

                                 * * *

After the breakfast, Neera firmly steered me to her dressing table.

I sat down in front of the mirror and was again jolted by the sight of
my face.  Eyebrows arching over large hazel eyes framed in long lashes,
high cheek-bones, a straight nose over the full dark lips, a neat
rounded chin, two small ears hiding in the loose helmet of light brown
hair...  It was the face of a really attractive young woman.  It was my
face and I was precious near falling in love with it.

Neera considered me for a while muttering to herself and than coming to
some private conclusion, attacked me with creams, powders, brushes and
God alone knows what else.

It was the strangest feeling, sitting there, letting her practice the
makeup arts on me.  It had never occurred to me what a sensual
experience that was.  The gentle touch of soft brushes and her fingers
on my sensitive lids, smooth cheeks, pursed lips...  It was
unexpectedly arousing and for the first time in my life I realised what
the word "pampering" might really refer to.  I was beginning to
understand why women were willing to spend so much time and money in
beauty parlours.

Finally Neera stepped back and admired her handiwork in the mirror.
"Not bad," she said, "Even if I say so myself.  What do you think?"

"Breathtaking..." I murmured before catching myself.  It was my SELF I
was admiring after all:  "Um...  Interesting."

Neera laughed.  "Don't be ashamed to fall in love with yourself, Nicky,
dear.  That's the real secret of feminine beauty!"

Looking at the face looking at me from the mirror, I found little need
for encouragement.  Tired as it was by the morning's exercise, my
manhood stood to attention, saluting the beautiful woman in the mirror.

I must have been rather in a daze, while Neera proceeded to dress me in
cloths of her choice.  She deftly arranged my penis, so that it
produced no tell-tale bulge under the silky slip, coaxed my pectorals
into a fair semblance of cleavage by means of a padded bra, and in what
felt like no time at all, had me in silver heels and zipped into a
body-hugging half-sleeved dress of soft slate-grey velvet.  I wondered
whether I should feel scandalised by the unashamedly sexy way it fitted
me like a glove, exposing far too many curves for polite decency.  In a
word, it made me look...  let's say "available" and the realisation
both disturbed and excited me.

"Like it?" asked Neera quietly from behind me.

"I...  Don't know...  It's sort of disturbing.  But exciting too.  I
could come to like it far too easily, I suppose..."

"You will, Nicky, you will!  That's the whole idea.  I think you do
already, too...  Just find it hard to accept the fact."

I shook my head and watched my hair fall easily back into a rather nice
shape.  "Well, OK...  But now what?"

"Now nothing." She came up to me and pressed her soft warm body against
mine, putting her arms around my waist with her palms on my buttocks
and so I did the same sliding my hands into the back pockets of her

"Why don't we have some gentle music and dance?" she continued.  "After
that we could have some food -- it's well past midday already.  Or...
I don't suppose you'd feel like going out to eat?"

"Like this?!"

"Well...  perhaps not.  You could wear something less ...

"It was your choice!"

"Nicky," she sighed, "I LIKE you like this.  In this outfit you look
exactly how I want you:  a classy, sexy, wanton, uninhibited bitch."
She laughed.  "Do I shock you?"

She did, but her words exploded in my mind like tiny fireworks,
breaking something down, setting something free, remaking me yet
further to the image she was describing.  And I knew I loved it.  So I
wiggled my bottom under her hands, pressed her to me and planted a hard
kiss on her lips, which she returned with will and passion.

"Shock me?" I said eventually, slightly gasping for breath.  "No, but I
shock myself."

"Let's dance then!  It might un-shock you..." she giggled.  "And after
that I decree that you'll change into a pair of cords and a silk blouse
and we go out for supper."

And dance we did.

                                 * * *

The meal out passed with no incident worth remarking upon, and it set
the tone of care-free unreality for the rest of the day.  We spent the
afternoon walking hand-in-hand in a park and in the evening had another
meal out, followed (on an impulse) by a visit to the local cinema.  The
strangeness was, paradoxically, in the apparent normality of my walking
the streets of the city with Neera, wearing the appearance of an
attractive girl.

Stranger still was the realisation in the evening that the bathroom
mirror had something new to tell me.  I now had nipples to match

"What's going on?" I asked bewildered.

Neera came in from the bedroom to have a look what was I on about.  "I
would have thought you noticed, Nicky," she said running her hands up
from my waist and circling my nipples with her thumbs.  "You are
turning into a girl."

"What?  But...  I thought...  You mean it hasn't finished yet?"

"Nicky, darling, you agreed to become my GIRLfriend.  However,
feminised you may have become, you are most definitely not a girl." She
lowered one of her hands and closed it around my manhood, proudly erect
between my smooth thighs.  "Though I guess, by tomorrow morning you may
will be one."

"But...  But..." I grabbed at her hand, enclosing my penis, "What

"You'll have a pussy instead, Nicky," she said gently.  "A slit.  A
cunt.  And you'll enjoy having things put into you rather more than you
have ever enjoyed putting your dicky into others.  Just wait and see if
I am wrong."

"But, I can't ...  I mean, I am a man!"

"But tomorrow you won't be.  Oh, love.  Do relax and enjoy the thought
that tomorrow you will be fully and irrevocably a girl.  Look, your
dick knows good news when you hear it.  Besides, look in the mirror.
Just look!  I know you like what you are right now, and that is only
technically a man.  With a body like that you'd never pass for one, but
that does not bother you, does it?"

She was right, of course, but I wasn't really listening -- just one of
her words caught my attention causing me to squeak in a quite
undignified manner:  "Irrevocably?!..."

"Well, yes.  Oh, not because I'd refuse to turn you back, silly...
Because you won't want me to.  It's in the nature of the spell that you
will love being what you are turning into, because you are turning into
what you will love being -- see?"

I didn't, really, and I wasn't sure I cared for the implications of
this revelation, but I had to admit that the idea of going back to my
old self was already too remote to be seriously contemplated.  And it
would have been silly to pretend that I didn't love my new form.

                                 * * *

She was wrong about the timing, though.  Next morning I woke up with my
manhood intact and erect, despite my balls having retreated into their
body cavities and the scrotal sack having shrank out of existence.  On
my chest however...

Well, I no longer needed to wonder what it felt like to have breasts,
tipped by large brown aureolas and mountainous pink nipples.  In case
you've never had the experience, let me tell you, it is really
something and don't let any woman tell you otherwise.

I brushed my hair (now much longer than the day before) out of my eyes
and cupped my new acquisitions in my hands, lightly rolling both
nipples with my thumbs...  and nearly doubled over from the massive
wave of sensation that hit me and spread in a tingling wave over my
whole body.

"Oi!", grumbled Neera sleepily, "What do you think you are doing!?"

"It's my nipples!" I gasped.

That woke her up.  "Aha!" she said sitting up, "Let's have a look at
you!" and pulled down the blanket.  "Mmmm...  Nice jugs!" she approved,
while caressing my left breast with her hand, but carefully avoiding
the nipple.  "Just the right size.  I get really put off by the sizes
men seem to find so damn attractive!"

She leaned forward and took my right nipple between her lips.  It was
only with a tremendous effort that I laid there without convulsing
again, as her tongue slithered leisurely over the top of the nipple,
causing mounting waves of pleasure to fountain concentrically outwards.
When, however, she let go with her lips and very delicately used her
teeth instead, I simply could not take any more and with a yelp of
pleasure pushed her off.

Neera nodded in understanding:  "You'll get used to it, but I dare say
right now you get a pleasure overload." She pulled the blanket further
down, exposing my penis.  "Oh!  You are a man still!" She knelt astride
of me and slowly, sensuously impaled herself on my maleness, massaging
me almost to orgasm with her vagina.  Then she leaned forward and let
her nipples brush against mine.  "Mmmmmm....  Nice!" It was.  It was
more than nice.  It was bloody fantastic and between gasps I told her
so -- or at least tried to, but was interrupted by the orgasm shaking
me to the very core of my nearly female being.

Neera rode the storm with me and then slithered off and just lay there
with her finger tracing complex, large-scale patterns over my smooth

"But I want you to be a girl," she said quietly.  "All girl.  A boy
willingly enchanted into a girl -- utterly and irrevocably.
Transformed body and soul.  Turned from male to female.  Refashioned
from a masterly man to a voluptuous woman.  Nick become Nicole.
Doesn't just the thought itself excite you?"

Drained though I was, it did, and snuggling up to her I whispered so,
half ashamed for such betrayal of my masculinity, half melting in
anticipation of my final transformation.

                                 * * *

I didn't have to wait long.  When I awoke next morning, I needed no
exploration to know that I was now indeed fully female.  The thought
was electrifying and we spent the day and the night in a fair orgy of
celebration of my new womanhood.

                                 * * *

The song finished and I snapped out of the daydream.  OK, OK...  A body
can dream.  No law against that, is there?

I opened my eyes, feeling a bit foolish for letting my deepest
polymorphic desires to obtrude on my consciousness in such graphic
ways.  Curiously enough, these fantasies of being transformed
(particularly into a beautiful, sexy woman) hadn't surfaced until after
I met Neera.  I would have laughed at the very suggestion before then.
I often wondered whether this was a mere coincidence, or whether there
was something in the nature of our relationship that had uncovered
these previously buried desires.  Not that I could think of anything
remotely likely to do so.  I dare say a psychiatrist would have come up
with something profound, plausible and quite meaningless.

Neera's attention was back on me.  She was considering me with her head
slightly to one side, a not-quite-smile touching her lips.  One could
almost swear she knew what was on my mind.

She patted my knee affectionately and said:  "Nick, would you like to
be my girlfriend?"

I am afraid, I gaped in a most undignified manner.  "Wha...  Er...
How?...  Eh?!?..."

Neera giggled:  "Poor Nick, all confused and embarrassed!...  What, is
it something shameful to wish to be a girl like me?"

I shut my eyes and shook my head ruefully.  This wasn't really
happening, was it?  Neera, having somehow divined my secret was about
to humour me, pity me and eventually walk out on me.  Might as well
have it over and done with, so without giving myself time to reconsider
words I knew I would regret at leisure, I said:  "Yes.  I mean no, it
isn't and yes I'd love to, though how you should know..."

And suddenly, with no transition at all, no special effects, no
convulsion of the world or the self, not even a sound of a solitary
fanfare, Nick was gone.  Nicole stretched herself luxuriously on the
sofa, softly murmuring to the world at large:  "At last...  At last..."

Make what you will of her.


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