A Morning Surprise

You woke in the way movie stars wake after their perfect honeymoon. The way they wake at the end of a romance movie, where everything is perfect. The world is as it should be. The beach sun is warming their golden skin. A soft wind caresses their cheeks. And next to them is their perfect lover. The feeling persists long enough into wakefulness to be overtake by the slow recollection that you have none of those things. Your eyes peel open and you feel deeply fatigued. The glow from the previous nights indulgence lingers, but it's also left you heavy and drowsy.

You sit up, rub your eyes, then slide your legs from the bed. The sensation is startling until you remember you'd just removed your hair last night in an insane fetishistic desire. Curiously, the stockings are no longer on your legs, and you have a pair of boxers on.

The number 1 morning routine calls so you hop from bed and scurry to the bathroom, again gliding smoothly the balls of your feet. Down come your boxers, and out comes your... Nothing. Nothing comes out, and before you can stop yourself, hot piss pours down your thigh.

"F-Fuck." You stammer as you grasp for your dick, and try to pinch off the stream. Nothing greets your grasp. In a single moment, your heart leaps in your chest, and your hand darts for the bathroom light switch to confirm what you felt in the dark.

Nothing. Beneath your boxers is nothing. A neatly and naturally parted patch of light brown hair marks the place where your dick should be. Your fingers touch the fine wiry strands in shock. Then your fingers probe a little lower. Your heart drops into your stomach as you feel something you haven't felt in a year. Smooth, Tight, Modest, Unmistakable pussy lips. Your throat goes dry, but despite your panic, the urge to pee asserts itself again. You flounder for a moment, hand hanging useless in the air in front of your groin. You grasp for your dick again, but of course nothing is there. And in a **** fight, your logical mind barely convinces your frenzied heart to sit down on the damn toilet. You relax, and you pee.

It's the most natural thing in the world... for the other 50% of the population.

You stare down at your muff. Your tight little pussy. Your smooth hairless legs. Then, in a sudden panic, you stand up and go to the mirror. If something turned you into a girl, how would you live?! How would you work? How would you withdraw money from the bank? The panics are assuaged, but not resolved, as a familiar face greets you... Mostly familiar anyway. Your features seem a bit softer than before. The curves of your face a bit more gentle. Your eyes a bit less deep set. You turn your gaze downward and find your shoulders slightly less wide, your hips slightly rounder.

You don't look like a close relative. You look like you. Unmistakably you... Just slightly modified. Your mouth is still dry as you try to swallow. You swipe your suddenly silky light brown bangs from your face, revealing the fullness of the change to your eyes. Just a hint of a feminine taper is revealed. And your lashes are slightly ever longer. Your lips, and for that matter, your nipples are just a little more pink, as if your fiery blood is hot and prickly near the surface of your skin.

Your hand hits your forehead in shock, and you lament one clear question.

What THE FUCK did those stockings do to you?