"Finally, sexual stimulation brings the onset of orgasm" said the voice, but John couldn't really hear it, because he was in the throes of pleasure, as wave after glorious wave of orgasm shot through his body. It was like the nerve from his head down through his spine was going haywire, with impulses electricity zapping him. The warm glow between his legs was intense, and he felt himself quivering all over, as each wave of pleasure swept over him.

This was *so* much better than sex as a man had ever been. John had done drugs in the 60s, and this was *far* better than that even. His brain could not fathom the extent of the pleasure that his body was feeling. Words could not describe it. It was beyond comprehension that such pleasure was possible. The fact that his body had been transformed into that of a woman didn't even come into play; all he knew was the explosions of pleasure that were rocking him to his very soul.

"You are tired now" said the voice. "You want to sleep. You will wake up soon, in your room. You will never reveal the secrets you learned her today. Remember."

John *was* tired. It had been such a shock on the body, and he was completely out of energy. He fell into a pleasant darkness...

* * *

When John awoke, he knew that he was back in his room. And he remembered everything that he had felt as the machine had wrapped itself around him. His first reaction was to touch himself between his legs. His hand confirmed what his body had told him when he had trembled with pleasure: he was a woman now.

In reaching down there, the inside of his arm brushed against his breast. Whereas the prosthesis had been an unfeeling cold lump on his chest, this was different. He *felt* it in his breast as his arm touched it. And as for the arm, it sensed *warmth* where it had touched. These breasts were real.

John ripped off his nightie, and looked down at his naked body. After a week of wearing fake boobs, it wasn't the overwhelming shock to see something pointing out from his chest. Instead, it was the shock of seeing his erect nipples, and the wide rings of a darker color around them. He touched his nipple with his fingers, and *felt* it. These breasts were real.

John again touched himself between his legs as he looked down. He somehow didn't believe the sensation of touch that he had felt. He had to *see* it too. And there it was, in all its glory. Just like his wife, just like his girlfriend, just like his sister. He was just like them now.

John felt a shiver. He didn't know if it was from the cold, or from the inner scare he felt inside. From the moment that a child becomes aware, they learn that boys are different from girls. At a young age, boys tease girls, and often dislike them. But as they grow older, the feel an attraction to their bodies, even if sometimes their differences in thinking make their relationships troublesome.

This left John's mind reeling. All the things he hated about women, were part of *him* now. Or better said, he was one of *them* now. And all the things about women that he found attractive...they were part of him now too.

"I can't believe it..." he said out loud, hearing his new feminine voice for the first time. He moved to the mirror. Every detail of him was changed, except perhaps his eyes. But he was a girl now, a *female*. He felt, cold, and knew he needed to put on his clothes. But he dreaded it as well.

The bra fit perfectly, except now his breasts were made of soft female flesh instead of cold artificial materials. This meant that the bra helped shape his breasts, molding them into a flawless shape. They were so big! So round, so full. He could not believe it was himself that he was seeing in the mirror.

Next, he put on his panties. Whereas before his male parts had made a tent, now they laid flat against his crotch. That and the curve to his hips made them look so much better than they had before. Again, it was hard to fathom that the girl he saw in the mirror was really him. She was so hot, so cute!

John put on his skirt, and for the first time, sensed what it was like to be attractive in one. The way it hugged his curves and flowed around him...so much better than before. He spun around and felt the soft fabric caress his skin. Soon he had his top on, and was admiring how wonderful he looked in the mirror.

His hair was long now, and real. No more wigs. And he didn't need makeup to look good, but he put on just a touch here and there anyway. And he put on his jewelry. Wow! He was so stunning.

But there was a problem with his shoes; they were way too big. In fact, all of his clothes were too small for him now. He felt the need to go shopping and get some better outfits to show off his body better. Instead of these loose fitting clothes, he wanted something tight and sexy looking.

John decided that he needed a drink, so he went out to the pool, where the cabana boys would bring out tropical drinks when he snapped his fingers. He put on a large straw hat, sunglasses, and headed out for the pool. He sat down, and ordered a Pina Colada.

As he sipped it, a woman sat down next to him and said 'Hello'.

"Hello" responded John, still shocked to hear a girl's voice coming out when he spoke.

"My name is Loraine" said the woman, and John went pale. This was his wife! Right next to him! He was a woman now, and she didn't even recognize him.

"Hi, I'm Trisha" he responded, using his female alias.

"Wonderful place, isn't it?" said Loraine.

"Yes it is!" responded John.

He sensed that he had an opportunity to find out things now that had been driving him crazy. He engaged in small talk for a while, just chatting about this and that as they sipped their drinks. Then he went for it.

"So, what do you think about all those cabana boys?" he said, with a teasing tone of voice.

"Oh, they're all hotties here, aren't they?" replied Loraine.

"I'm thinking of asking one up to my room" said John. "But I'm not sure if that's ok. Have you done it?"

"Well, I do know that lots of girls here rave about getting laid by them, but I've never done it. I have a husband at home, and I would never dream of cheating on him" said Loraine, holding up her wedding ring for John to see.

"That's very pretty" he replied, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes. He had doubted her, but she had not cheated on him. All his suspicions were wrong. And now *everything* was wrong. Loraine was looking like a 22 year old again, but he would never have her, because he was a woman now too, and every bit as hot as she was. He started to cry.

"What's wrong?" asked Loraine.

"You're....you're so sweet" said John.

"Here" said Loraine, handing over a tissue. John dried his eyes, and blew his nose. He was so *emotional* now. He hadn't cried since he could remember. But something as small as a wife's fidelity was so *wonderful* that it had made him cry. He really was a woman now.

John was going to change topics. He was going to ask her about the Optimizer X-20, and what she thought about her experience. But instead of what he wanted to say, something else came out of his mouth.

"I love how your hair looks. Where do you get it done?"

"Oh, there's this salon around the corner from the tennis courts, and...."

As Loraine talked, John felt a strange sensation. That wasn't what he had meant to ask. How did those words come out of his mouth? When Loraine was done, he tried asking her again, but this time he again said something else than he had intended. What was going on? He wasn't able to talk about the X-20?

Then he remembered the last words he had heard when hooked up to the X-20: "You will never reveal the secrets you learned her today. Remember."

They had done something to his brain. Something to make him unable to speak about it. That's why Loraine had been so evasive when he had tried to ask her about what was going on here at the spa. Again, it wasn't her fault that she had been like that.

But there was a worse implication: if they could control his brain, then what else had they done to him? If they could make him *not* do something, could them make him actually *do* something that he wouldn't normally do? Were they controlling him?

"Hello ladies, what can I do for you?" asked a tanned young man carrying a tray. He wore only a black swimsuit, which was tight enough to show off how well endowed he was.

"I'd like a frozen margarita" said Loraine, "and my friend here would like you to take her up to her room."

John elbowed her. She winked at him.

"But of course" said the young man, smiling to John.

John's heart leaped. He felt a tingle between his legs. He found it hard to take his eyes off the young man as he walked away, and to the bar. John was feeling a *female* sexual response to him.

"What's the matter?" asked Loraine.

"I'm getting wet" said John.

"Ooh, you hottie. You're going to bag your first cabana boy! Don't worry, I get so easily aroused too after a week here. I can't wait to get home and get laid by my husband! I get all excited just thinking about it."

Before John knew what to say, the young man was back, taking his hand, and leading him away. John looked back helplessly at Loraine. She smiled, licked her red lips, and winked back.

"I am Vincent. Who are you?" said the young man.

"I'm Trisha" replied John, who almost fell over when Vincent put his hand onto John's butt. John suddenly felt very sexy in his skirt. He felt so turned on! Against everything he had every felt or known in his entire life, he responded in kind with his own hand. He was about to make love to a man.

* * *

An hour later, after Vincent left, as John sat on the toilet cleaning himself out, it really hit him. John had made love as a woman, and had liked it. No: *loved* it. He wanted it again. And again, and again.

When John picked up the panties he had tossed recklessly to the floor, he put them on. But something was different. All week long, when he put on panties, it had felt *exotic*, foreign, strange. But now, it was none of those; it was *normal*. It was what he was *supposed* to wear.

The same went for the bra: instead of feeling slightly naughty for putting one on, it now felt *needed*. It was no longer an implement to disguise himself as a woman. Instead, it was something necessary and functional. His big boobs needed support, so he needed to wear a bra.

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