A Birthday Wish

"No. Boys have never done it for me. If they had, I think I might have done this," I pointed at my body, "the normal way. You know, take hormones, that sort of thing. But I fancied girls and I thought that if one day I got a girlfriend these feelings would stop."

"So you don't fancy boys, but you still wanted to be a girl?"

"Yes."

"All of your life?"

"Yes."

"And you'd have wanted al the stuff that comes with being female; the dieting, possible eating disorders, the bitchiness, having your heart broken, periods, yu'd have wanted it all?"

"Yes. Boys get their heart broken too and..."

She cast male problems to one side. "So now you've got what you wished for, but you want to change back?"

"Yes." I thought for a moment. "No. Maybe. I don't know. All I know is that I'll find it hard to explain to people, to mum and dad, my friends, I've got a party tomorrow night. And then there's work."

"They have to support you at work. It's the law," she said authoritatively.

"But they won't believe me. I hardly do."

"Neither do I," May said laughing and shaking her head.

"So when I turn up on Monday claiming to be me, I don't think anyone will believe it. Let's face it, when a man leaves work on Thursday then comes into work on Monday as a female, not just saying he wants to be treated as a female, but actually is a girl, six inches shorter and looking completely different, no one would believe him."

"Her," she corrected me. "No one would believe her."

"Yes," I said. "So I really think I have to change back."

She nodded, and having blown the top of the tea to cool it down she said, "Well I think the first call of the day ought to be to the shop where I bought the candle and see if they can fill us in."

"But I haven't got any clothes."

"Ah, dear, that is where a good auntie knows her business." May had bought a small bag with her. She now opened it and produced a collection of garments. "But first we need to check your size," she said as she pulled out a tape measure.

She had me stand up as she measured my hips and waist. She then told me to take off the t-shirt. I was a bit embarrassed but she said, "It's nothing I haven't seen before." And so I slipped my top off and she measured around my chest under my boobs, and then again around my tits, which she complimented me on.

"It's been a long time since mine stood up like that. If you end up staying a woman, you'd better get used to the idea of them sagging."

When she had finished she announced. "If I remember right, this mean you're a size 12. Your bum's quite big, you take after your grandma in that respect, both me and your mum are a bit pear-shaped, so that's closer to a 14. Now I haven't got a bra that'll fit you, but since you're still perky, we'll get away with that for now. So let's see what we can do." And with that she began rummaging through the contents of the bag that she'd emptied on to the bed.

It was some of her old clothes, not the sort of things I'd choose for myself. She handed me a pair of high-waisted knockers that I thought looked like something my granny would wear. I turned my back on May, slipped off my boxers and pulled them on. Next was a pair of thick black tights. May felt I'd need them as it was chilly out. My legs still had hair on them, although it was less dense now than it had been when I was male. The tights helped hide the fact that my legs weren't shaved. Next came a long, dark-grey, gypsy-style skirt. It was the sort of thing she always seemed to wear, like I said she usually had a hippy look about her. And finally a maroon top with spaghetti straps that left my shoulders exposed.

"I thought you said it was cold out?" I asked.

"It is, but that top goes with that skirt. But you can wear this." She handed me a dark-blue cardigan.

"Don't the colours clash?" I asked looking down at myself.

"Listen to her," she mocked me. "She's only been female for a couple of hours and already she's a fashion expert." I was about to say something else, but she cut me short. "You're young and pretty. You can pull it off."

Dressed, I span around and felt the skirt swirl about me. It felt wonderful, The tights felt nice on my legs and I felt good about myself for the first time since the shock when I woke up.

I'd tried some of my mum's clothes when I was young and alone in the house, but the chances to do it had been rare. It hadn't helped that my body wasn't the right shape with no hips and no bosom. But I had those now and the clothes felt right, even if they weren't what I'd choose for myself.

Finally she gave me a pair of shoes. There were ballet shoes, size 5. They fit perfectly. They were the sort of style I'd seen girls wearing and thought looked nice. It was probably the only item of my ensemble that I would have chosen for myself. May commented that I was lucky that I was the same size as her. I'd always had size nines as a man.

There was one last piece to my look. She took two hair slides, swept my hair over to the side and put them in.

"Take a look in the mirror," May said looking around the room for one. When I told her I hadn't got one, she said that was another thing we'd have to remedy.

She had brought an old handbag with her that she gave to me. "Put your keys and you wallet in it. You'll have to get used to carrying it. Women's clothes don't have pockets."

With that done, she told me it was time to go out.

It was at this point that I began to panic again. "What about make-up?"

"You're young and pretty, you don't need it."

"But..."

"No. I don't wear it, and neither does your mum. Well, most of the time, perhaps some lippy when she's going out, but you don't need it now. We're just going to a shop."

I tried to argue with her, but in reality it wasn't about feeling naked without cosmetics, it was because I was frightened about going outside dressed as a woman.

May was adamant. "Look, were going out. If you want to wear lipstick and eye-liner, that's fine, there's nothing wrong with it. But I haven't got any, and neither have you. And more than that, you haven't even got a mirror to see where you're putting it. We can stop somewhere and buy some if you like. But you can't put it off any longer, Jack."

Before going out, I popped to the loo for a wee and took the opportunity to look at myself in the mirror. It was only small at eye-level above the sink, but I could see that the slides made my hair look more feminine.

And so, reluctantly, I left the house and walked to May's car.

It was strange walking down the stairs and then on to the street dressed in a long skirt. When I got to the car I had to pull the hem of the skirt in to stop it getting trapped in the door.

As we drove to the sop where she'd bought the candle, May said, "Jack. I can't really keep calling you that, can I, now that you're a girl?" It's hardly a girl's name is it?"

"It could be short for Jacqueline?"

"Oh God, no!" she said. "I'm not having you called Jacqueline. I've only known two Jacquelines and there were both cows. No, I think your parents were going to call you Elizabeth if you'd been a girl. How about Liz, or Beth?"

I liked the idea of being Beth, but for now it would be confusing. "Let's just stick with Jack for the time being," I suggested.

"Uhm, perhaps Jacqueline is right for you. You're starting to sound a bit bitchy already."

When we got to the shop I saw my full length reflection in the shop's window for the first time. I didn't look too bad. The outfit was a bit of a mis-match, but I certainly looked like a woman. But then I suppose I was.

Inside the shop we found a man and a woman with their small son having an altercation with the shop-assistant. The child looked quite happy, but his mother had one hand on the boy's shoulder and another clutching a tissue to her face where tears streamed. The father looked like her he'd been crying too, but he was shouting angrily at the assistant.

The boy looked at me and smiled. It was a beautiful smile. His two front teeth were missing, so I guessed he was seven or eight. The smile revealed large cheeks. He was definitely a boy. His hair was short and he was wearing boys' clothes, but his face was so pretty I could have mistaken him for a girl.

"But he's our son," the man shouted at the assistant, a thin young man with a scraggly unkempt pathetic excuse for a beard.

"Well, yes, I understand your words, but I'm telling you it can't happen," the shop assistant said. "It just can't"

"But it has. Yesterday was his birthday. And then when we came to dress him this morning, he's a girl."

I looked at the child and could see it straight away. She was a girl. She had a boy's hairstyle and was wearing boys' clothes, but she was a girl. And despite her mother's and father's anger, she looked blissfully happy.

I turned to look at May and she knowingly smiled back at me.

"But it can't happen," the shop assistant maintained.

"But it has," the father protested. He then turned to look at me. "I'd get out if I were you, ladies. There is something wicked going on here."

May smiled at him. "I take it this is something to do with the magic candles?"

"How did you know?" the man asked.

"It was my birthday yesterday too." I looked at the smiling girl and brushed her cheek. "And I suspect I made the same wish as your son did. Sorry, daughter," I corrected myself as I shared a smile with the girl.

"I don't think so," the man said.

"Yesterday I was nearly six foot tall and a man," I told him.

The man shook his head. I saw him clench his fist and for one terrible moment I thought he was going to punch me. But then he shook his head and said, "It's not possible."

"Look at you little girl and tell me it's not possible," May said calmly.

The shop assistants said, "Look, I'll give you another of the candles. You can wish him back to how he was." He offered the man one of the thin brown candles from a box with the Legend "Magic Candles; Wishes Can Come True" by the counter.

The man took the candle and said to the little girl. "Right Angus, you are going to wish yourself back to being a boy."

"But I don't want to be a boy," the girl said as her mother guided her from the shop. "I want to be a girl."

"You'll wish what I tell you to wish for," her father told her.

"No I won't."

"Then I'll wish you back," the father said.

I was about to say they should let her decide, but May held my arm. "It's up to them to sort it out," she told me.

"Can you believe that?" the shop assistant asked us once the family were out of the shop.

"Normally, no, but today I can," May said.

"I was a man yesterday," I told him. "But as you can see I'm not now." It felt good saying it. When I'd woken first thing I'd panicked. I'd been in shock. I'd wanted the world to return to normal. But now I found that I was getting used to it. And it was what I'd always wanted.

"But that can't happen," the assistant said. "It just can't."

"Ordinarily I'd agree with you. But my world view has changed."

"So you want a candle for free so you can change back?" the man said coldly.

May looked at me.

"No. I don't know," I said.

"We'd just like to know about the candles," May said.

"There's nothing to say," the man said. "I've been ordering them from Romania for the last couple of years, a box of fifty at a time. They sell well. I think it's because they look so dodgy and don't have a pleasant smell. Most of the candles we stock are produced in the country. They look nice and smell nice, and if we say they help you sleep better at night, or find true love, or whatever, then people are happy. But the magic ones, well, they're not. But some folks like them."

"And nothing like this has happened before?" May asked.

"Never. And I don't believe it's happening now. This feels like some sort of con," the man said.

"I bought one a month or two back," May said.

"I don't remember that," the man said. "But I know you came in yesterday and bought on," the man said.

"And now I'm a woman. And that little boy is a girl."

"Are here any left?" May asked.

The man picked the last five candles out of the box. "This is it," he told us. "I've ordered another box of them. They should be here in a week or two."

"Well we'll take those ones you've got left," May said.

"This isn't a charity. I'm not just going to give them away. I only did that with that bloke to get him out of the shop."

"It's alright," I said. "I'm happy to pay."

He looked hard at me. "You were really a man yesterday"

"I was."

"And you just turned into a woman overnight?"

"I wished really hard for it when I blew out the candles on my cake, including one of your magic one."

"Well I'll sell you three," he said. "I'm not saying I believe you, or that family, but just in case I'll keep a couple for myself."

"A wise choice," May stated.

We paid the money and left the shop with three candles.

"So Jack, do you want to turn back into a man?"

"I don't know." I did know. I'd always wanted to be a girl, and while it had only been a few hours, I was now getting used to it. But there would still be problems explaining to my mum and dad, and friends at the party the next night, not to mention work.

May put it into perspective. "Your mum and dad will come to understand. Maybe use one of these candles to wish that people will believe you. The same for your friends. And as for work, if they don't believe you, get another job. This might be the perfect time for a career change."

With my mind made up, May suggested some retail therapy. We spent the next few hours going around shops buying clothes and cosmetics, and a mirror for my room.

I was making my way back up to my flat armed with a large number of bags after May finally dropped me off. She had agreed to go with me to my parents the next morning to try and explain everything. I met Oliver on the stairs. He was coming home from work.

"Hello again," he said. "Do you need a hand?"

I smiled and thanked him. It was nice having a strong man offering to help me.

"I never caught your name," he said as he piled the bags into my room.

"Jackie," I said. I thought a new name might be good to start my new life, but hadn't decided if that should be Elizabeth or something else. So I'd be Jacqueline for the time being.

"Jack, like your cousin."

"Yes." I wasn't about to start trying to explain everything to him. It was too soon, too complicated and simply unbelievable.

"Do you fancy a drink later?" he asked.

"Sure, why not." Oliver and I often went down the local after work on a Friday.

"I'll come around about eight, if that's okay?"

"Yes. I look forward to it." I smiled at him as I closed the door and saw him smile back. He had a nice smile and warm eyes. As I'd noticed for the first time that morning, he was really god looking.

It was only after I'd shut the door that I realised he might have been asking me on a date. And that I'd thought about his good looks and his body, which was something I'd never done with men when I was one.

I had a few hours to kill so I went to the bathroom where I had a quick bath and shaved my legs. I'm sure if I'd done that while I was a man I would have been hard the whole time, but now it didn't excite me as it might otherwise have done.

Back in my flat I heated and ate a frozen meal, and then spent the rest of the time practicing with cosmetics. It was harder than I'd imagined making myself look good in my new mirror, but in the end I looked presentable. I tried to go for a naturalistic look, light browns on my eyes, some mascara on my lashes and a subtle pink on my lips. When Oliver knocked on my door I thought I looked quite pretty. I'd put on a new skirt, it was shorter than the one May had given me, and finished the look off with a low-cut top that exposed a hint of cleavage. Pretty, stylish, but not too slutty.

The night was great. No one in the pub recognised me, which was hardly surprising, but still what I feared. Oliver's attitude to me was different to how it usually was. I tried not to talk too much, after all he knew most of my stories and I didn't want to give myself away, so instead I listened to him. I knew his stories too, but it was nice to hear him. He had a low voice, the sound of which gave me a warm feeling inside. As did the fact that several times I noticed him looking at my breasts.

I found myself getting drunk quicker than I normally would. I suppose it was the fact that I was now female and had a smaller body to cope with the alcohol. And so after the first couple of pints where I matched him drink-for-drink as I usually would, I switched to single vodkas with lemonade. When I went to the lavatory it was strange. I automatically walked straight into the mens' and was met by one of the regulars who said, "Sorry, love, the ladies is down the corridor." I apologised and moved on.

When we walked home, Oliver put his arm around my waist. It gave me a thrill. And when we got to my flat he told me he'd had a great night. I had too, and said as much.

"You know, Jackie, it feels like I've known you for a long time," he said.

"Yes, I know what you mean." I was looking up into his face. He looked even more handsome than he had before. I suspect that was the booze. I could certainly see what women saw in him. And since I was now one, it was only natural.

Looking into his face as we chatted, I wished I'd bought a pair of heels, or some wedges, something to give me some height. I'd always been just as tall as him, but now I had to strain my neck to look into his wonderful grey-blue eyes.

He leant down to give me a kiss. I stood on tip-toe to reach him.

It was only a peck, a simple brush of the lips, but I felt an electric thrill run through my whole body. If I'd still been male, I would have got an erection. But I wasn't, and instead I felt a tingling between my legs.

My heart was racing. I opened my eyes and saw his smile, so handsome, so gorgeous. He leant in again. The time the kiss was more passionate. He pushed me backwards. My head was against the door. His hands had been around my waist, but now one slid down and cupped my left buttock, which he squeezed gently.

The sensation was intense. I would have broken the kiss and gasped if his lips weren't firmly clamped against mine. I felt wetness between my legs. I wondered for a moment if I'd wet myself. It wasn't that though, it was desire. I wanted him. I wanted him in me. My body was lubricating itself in anticipation.

He broke the kiss. I opened my eyes and looked up at his smile again. He was so sexy. A man, his firm jaw, with a wicked grin, I'd never wanted anyone like that before. My hands were on his strong, muscular chest, and I longed to touch his skin and feel the firmness of his flesh.

I wanted to ask him in. Wanted to say "good night" and reassess my emotions. But he wanted another kiss. I opened my mouth and closed my eyes. Hi hand moved from my bum and slid up my body where it cupped my breasts and gave a gentle squeeze. I had never been so aroused, no man could be. But then, I wasn't a man anymore.

I felt his tongue flick into my mouth.

And then he broke the kiss again. Bastard!

"Do you fancy doing this again some time?" he asked. What a gentleman, no taking advantage of a semi-drunk young woman who was on the verge of making a mistake on her first day of womanhood for him.

"You could come in and we could do it some more," I squeaked.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. I turned and got the keys out of my bag. I fumbled them with trembling hands. What was I doing? I had to stop myself. And then his hand so large and powerful closed around mine and guided the key into the lock.

I couldn't believe what I was doing. I'd only had a vagina for a matter of hours. I hadn't even played with it myself, merely touched and stroked it to see that it was real, and now I was inviting a man into my flat to put it to the test.