Ch Ch Ch Changes! Ch. 06

The next week is a busy one for me, I'm grateful to be occupied and distracted by work and getting my life back on track because the one thing that I was really hoping for: a call or text from Alejandro, never happens. This leaves me disappointed, even more so when Sarah says to get used to it - comparing giving out your number to the 'junk mail' of romance.

One of the tasks that I'd been putting off was my name change and getting in touch with the county official that Dr. Finch said would be able to straighten out my documentation. I'm hoping that he is someone like Sarah who has learned about the Wiccan's magic and the transmogrifications, someone who genuinely wants to help the changelings to get their lives back in order.

When I call Brad Dante at the county offices and introduce myself he instantly recognizes my name. "Oh, Hello Austin, Dr. Finch said you'd be calling. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well, you know, I guess things are a bit crazy for me."

"Yes, I know that very well. I went through my own tricky time... let's see, it was 40 years and four weeks ago if I remember correctly." his voice sounds like he could be in his mid 60s, and I'm certain that he is telling me that he knows Dr. Finch because he was probably one of her patients back then, but obviously hasn't needed an OBGYN in 40 years. So he's not just a friend of a changeling, he is a changeling. "Are you ok Austin, need anything at all? There aren't many like us, but there is a core group of folks that really want to help others like ourselves." I sense compassion in his voice.

"I think that overall I'm doing ok. I've got support from a friend, Dr. Finch, another woman I met recently, Sadie, and now you too I guess. I'm getting plenty of photo gigs so work is good." I'm curious about what he looks like, wondering if we changelings age the same way others do.

"Oh yes, I met Sadie many years ago. Such a nice young lady, though I wonder how she manages in the Tucson sun with that skin of hers. How's she doing?" I tell him about her son, and her very pregnant state and he seems quite happy to hear that she is doing well.

"So, Austin, I take it from your call that you've decided on a name?"

"Yes Mr. Dante, I think I have. I'd like to have my birth certificate and driver's license state my name as Liesl Kinsey Greene." spelling it out for him.

Kinsey was my mother's name - she died when I was two, so I never really new her. My father remarried, but unlike most fairy tales, my stepmother was actually a wonderful and supportive person who I love to this day (even though I haven't spoken directly to any of my family since before). Even so, I always wondered what my biological mother was like: what her passions were, her motivations, what made her laugh, what scared her. I knew from looking at the handful of photographs my father had kept that I was very similar to her in appearance as a young man. Now, with my gender matching hers I guess I might pass for her sister, if not her twin, were she still alive and my age. I choose Greene because of my respect and increasingly sister-like bond for Sarah. I imagine that despite our very different looks we'll be able to pretend we are sisters.

"That sounds great Ms Greene." Mr Dante uses my name for the first time. "It should only take a week for you to get a copy of your new birth certificate and for a new driver's license to be issued."

"Thank you Sir, I'm so grateful to you for your help!"

"Oh, no worries. Say, I'm wondering if you might be interested in meeting another one of us?" he asks.

"Oh, of course I would! Are you asking about yourself?" I wonder what on earth I might have in common with a man in his mid 60s (even if he too is a changeling) and why he'd want to meet me, but he quickly dispels that idea.

"Oh no. I'm not going to bother you like that, plus my wife would probably be a bit upset if I went around meeting younger women. I'm here to help you if you ever need it, but my guess is that you'll be just fine. I was thinking you might like to meet Mr. John Kline. He's in his mid 30s - about the same age as Sadie. He's remained distant from the rest of us, but he got in touch with me about a month ago asking if there were any new changelings around, saying he wanted to help if he could. I think he'd be excited to meet you. To be honest I don't know him that well but he seems like a nice guy, quite well spoken too."

"Yes, of course. You can give him my number and let him know I'd be happy to meet sometime."

Mr Dante arranges for me to go to the DMV to get my photo taken for a new license and all my documentation needs are taken care of. When we end the phone call I'm happy that I'll soon be able to have ID that matches who I am.

I have a few corporate events that I photograph - utterly boring work that pays the bills and allows me to eat well. They are usually held in the larger resort hotels that are nestled in the foothills of the Catalina mountains. To make the time pass more quickly and keep my interest, I make a game of figuring out who is sucking up to who at these events, which bosses are fucking which underlings, and who holds the real power.

Unlike the corporate gigs from before, I experience a whole new dynamic as I'm working. Even though I try to dress modestly, so that I'll blend in to the background, I have several guys trying to chat me up throughout the work day. They are all charming in one way or another, though I almost always feel like I'm a spur-of-the-moment, the-worst-she-can-do-is-say-no girl. A couple of the guys are wearing wedding bands when they chat me up, another gets several texts from a number associated with the ringtone from the song 'my girl'. I'm flattered but realize that I'm just attractive enough for these guys to take a shot in the dark and perhaps get lucky during their four-day, three-night stay in Tucson.

On Wednesday of that week, four weeks to the day when I woke up after the transformation I get my period! I'm lucky that it starts sometimes before I wake, so I have to wash my sheets and the panties I'm wearing, but don't have to deal with an embarrassing situation while I'm working. Getting my period is the strangest thing that I've ever dealt with; Sarah's advice and guidance help me cope with this entirely alien-to-me event that will almost certainly be a part of my life for the next 30ish years. I'm surprised and put off by how messy it is. I find the pads to be uncomfortable and wearing them creates some anxiety about leaking. I haven't actually put anything 'in to' me yet, finding the thought of being penetrated for the first time by a tampon worst than the feeling of wearing a pad. Yes, I'm the first one to admit that I'm a naive romantic when it comes to what my first experience should be.

Sarah and I go shopping at the used clothing place together that Friday after she takes me to my first yoga class ever. I find a nice purse, some yoga pants, a few tops and two bohemian style skirts that I really resonate with me. The first is a dark green paisley print that falls just below my knees. The other is a white linen skirt with an embroidered flowery trim that is almost ankle length. It hangs off me like it was designed for my body. The skirts along with some loose fitting blouses that hide my bust and don't reveal any cleavage will serve as outfits to minimize the attention I get from guys at my corporate gigs. The skirts and some tighter, more revealing blouses make for good 'going-out' clothes.

"So Sarah, this guy named John got in touch with me. He's a changeling. He wants to get together tomorrow night, I kinda got the feeling he wants it to be a date!" I tell her as we are looking through a rack of blouses.

"That's cool, right? You have't actually haven't gone out on a date yet and it seems like having your first date with somebody who knows your... 'backstory' might make it easier.

"You're right Sarah. I think it'll be fun, I wish we could do a double date though, I'm a bit nervous about being out on my own."

"Liesl" Sarah instantly took to my new name and has never gone back to Aussie, "You're getting the hang of all this so quickly. Maybe that is part of the magic - to be honest I'm amazed that you aren't still holed up in your apartment wearing nothing but hoodies and sweats." She looks at me a twinkle in her eyes, "You've got this!"

She looks me over and adds "Wear the green paisley and the low-cut blouse! And either those new sandals, or the heels we got last week - you seem to be way too fond of those Dr. Martens!"

"Hey, I like them. They make me feel tough and cute at the same time!"

"Yah, maybe that's the problem Liesl - in all my experiences with guys, not one has ever said 'you look tough' when they are trying to get me into bed." She has a point.

John invites me to a late dinner at a restaurant on the north side of town that offers nice views of the city at night - the location and time clearly indicate that he's considering this a date. As it's my first date I'm super excited, even though I've never met him - I'm trusting the small network of people who know about the Wiccans to do right by me.

I wear the paisley green skirt, a white, linen blouse that reveals just the right amount of cleavage, and the heeled sandals. I'm getting better with the lipstick and Sarah has taught me to wrap my hair into a sexy little bun that I accent with some chopstick like things. I feel really confident when I park my old Honda CRV and walk into the lobby, feeling my hips sway over my low heels on the longer-than-expected walk from my parking spot to the door through the dark parking lot. I'm carrying my new-to-me leather purse and while it is convenient, I miss having pants with pockets for my keys and wallet.

John isn't hard to spot as the only single guy in his mid 30s in the lobby. He's a couple inches shorter than I am in my heels, and has a sort of pear-shaped build - wide hips and narrow shoulders making him the opposite body type of Alejandro. He's wearing khaki pants, a pink oxford shirt that he's left unbuttoned at the neck where a thick tuft of chest hair is revealed, and a navy blue sport coat. He has short black hair, a mustache, a long, equine face, and piercing blue eyes; the overall impression is that he could be a colonel in a play about the British army.

I smile and he responds in kind, asking "Liesl?"

"Yes, it's nice to meet you John." I extend my hand but he steps in and wraps me in a hug that seems premature and a bit much for a blind date. I'm sure he feels me stiffen in his embrace but he lets the hug linger a beat or two longer than necessary.

"The hostess has our table ready, I gave her a $20 to seat us at a nice window table!" He says, clearly believing that I'll be impressed by this.

"Oh, that's nice." I have no idea about how to respond to something like that.

The hostess seats us, I watch John's eyes focusing on her bottom as she walks off. A few minutes later our waitress introduces herself and asks if we'd like to start off with drinks. John takes the heavy wine menu and quickly scans through the options, quickly ordering a bottle of chianti for us, not bothering to check in with me about my tastes or preferences. I'm not sure what to make of that - I'd never just decided on a bottle of wine when I was on date without checking in with the girl I was with. But maybe that's how other guys work it and maybe women like that; having no experiences makes it difficult for me to know how to interpret it.

After the waitress leaves, John passes me a menu and starts off by asking me, "So, you were a guy four weeks ago?"

I cringe and glance at the closest tables, hoping they aren't listening. I'd think that somebody who'd gone through what he and I have gone through would be a bit more discreet. So when I reply, it's in a near whisper, "almost five now, yes. It's been quite a month."

"I bet. Besides the obvious," he makes a point of looking at my chest, "did you change height and weight a lot? I gained almost 4 inches, and added about 50 pounds within two months of my change."

"Wow, 50 pounds, that seems like a lot!" I say, then add, "I lost a few inches and lost some weight too."

"Liesl, I've been sorta marking my calendar for this summer. I expected the Wiccans to throw another one of their parties and thought I'd put myself out there for any new women. You girls don't really know what's what and I figured that I could help you learn and avoid any mistakes. I'm glad I got in touch with that prick of a bureaucrat, Dante. I was worried that you'd end up being a petite, flat chested girl like Sadie." He says, his eyes are cool and steely.

"Oh, that's nice of you. But why just the women, there are probably some very confused newly minted men out there? I'm sure that they could use some support too." I ask.

The look on his face is one that seems to be equal parts contempt at the idea of assisting men and surprise - I realize that he never considered the needs of male changelings like himself. "Oh, the dudes will be just fine." he says after a pause. "I woke up and within a week I was happier than I'd ever been and feeling strong!"

The implications of what he's telling me make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He's basically admitting to praying on vulnerable women and I'm clearly lumped into that group in his mind. I hope I'm overthinking this, and wish I could talk to Sarah.

The waitress returns with the wine and goes through the formal dance of uncorking it. She sets the cork in front of John, then pours a taste into his glass. He glances at the cork with contempt, then sneers at the waitress, "I know what I ordered. I've forgotten more about wines that you'll ever know so just pour it." He waves at the empty glasses.

The waitress, to her credit doesn't flinch at this, filling our glasses. As she does so we make eye contact. It looks like she is trying to figure me out - am I as big of a jerk as he is? Do I know who I'm with? Am I frightened? I don't know what she sees in my face, but my read of her face is easier - it says 'he's a douchebag'.

When she leaves John doesn't miss a beat, he gulps down a sip of the wine and then continues, "God, don't you miss having a cock?" eliciting a sideways glance from the elderly snowbird at the next table. "I mean having all this swinging meat between my legs, and the muscles... the fucking power of this body. Those cock-sucking Wiccans gave me a gift - I can only imagine how bitter you must be to have lost all that. You know, I haven't missed my tits for even a second, and don't even get me started about the monthly bleeding!" He shakes his head contemptuously.

I feel the blood rush into my face, sure that my cheeks are as red as a stop sign. The shock and embarrassment of John's harangue leaves me utterly flustered. I feel as though I'm barely able to pass myself off in public in my new body, but dealing with a date that is this bad leaves me on the defensive and completely unprepared to respond.

"John, perhaps we could discuss this sorta thing later?" I respond in a hushed tone, glancing nervously at the table next to us, and trying to flash a polite smile.

John laughs at this the look in his eyes suggests he sees me as a simple child, "Fuck 'em. Seriously Liesl, you think this old bat is going to call up the Arizona Daily Star and tell them that there was a magically sex-changed couple at the table next to them and he was being rude?" He laughs with an odd sort of glee, "But I'll tell you what, Doll, I'll cool my jets if it keeps you in a better mood."

"Thank you John, I'd appreciate that." I notice how my hands are balled up into tight little fists as they rest on my lap under the table - the overwhelming unpleasantness of the first fifteen minutes of my first date are enough to make me want to leave.

"Of course Sugar Lips. I know what women want - and I always aim to please." His blue eyes are glued to my chest. I certainly knows what he wants.

The waitress comes back to take our orders, John orders a steak, "rare and bloody" while I order the chicken with eggplant and mushrooms. When the waitress and I make eye contact this time I see a sort of pity in her eyes.

"So John, errr..." I search for something innocuous to ask him, "what do you do for a living?" I sip some more wine, hating the fact that it actually is really good.

"I'm a research psychologist, I study personality and personality disorders." He says this with a straight face and no hint of irony. Suddenly, a memory from my Introduction to Psychology course pops into mind - the graduate student teaching assistant telling me and a couple other students during her office hours about how there is a lot of 'me-search' by psychologists - professors who study their personal deficits as research while remaining clueless as to their motivations to do so. "I've got a nice laboratory and some really hot grad students! You should swing by the Psychology Department sometimes and I can show you what I've built."

I just nod at that, I never met a graduate student who looked happy and I'm beginning to understand why. "Oh, you're a psychologist? Sadie gave me the contact information for a Dr. Petterson, do you know her?" I ask.

John glares at me at the mention of her name, his eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching. "Yah, I know the cunt. She's a total hack and I wouldn't trust her to train Lulu, my Bichon Frise. You'd do well to steer clear of her." His vitriol motivates me to want to contact her right now for an appointment.

"So you know Sadie?" John asks, but then goes on before I have a change to respond. "She was at the Wiccan's party with me. I hooked up with her about a little while after the change! Poor fucking girl, all that pale skin and that puny little body." He pauses, leans in and whispers across the table, "Worst fuck ever if you ask me!"

I feel as if I'm about to vomit when he says these things, the details of her story now filled in, I can only imagine the horror of being completely unprepared and vulnerable in the presence of someone like John. It's not like I'm a sophisticated woman of the world with years of knowledge about the fuckery of men, but at least Sarah, Sadie, and Dr. Finch have given me enough of a head's-up to be aware of predators like John. Not knowing how to respond, I just sip my wine.

"So it looks like you made off like a bandit with the new body, you did a damn sight better than Sadie! You'd never guess, but I wasn't much to look at before the Wiccans so I guess we have that in common - we are both beautiful now!" I nod, realizing that nothing good will come of even trying to engage in a meaningful conversation with John. "I mean look at you - yer like a runway model, just fatter and with bigger tits." I realize that John was probably tragically flawed before the Wiccans. Maybe the girl he'd been was abused or neglected? I try to keep that in mind, hoping it will lead to a better end to the evening, an end that can't come soon enough.

I contemplate just walking out at this point, but the food comes and smells heavenly. I also, like most people in the world, can't help but rubberneck the traffic accident that this date is becoming. The rest of the meal passes with less talk. My food is wonderful and mouthwatering - I make sure to eat every last morsel of it after John tells me that I should "slow down so I don't end up needing to buy an entirely new set of clothes from the fat-girls rack." I really enjoy the wine but after a glass and a half, I start to feel loose and stop, not wanting to lose my wits around John. He clearly doesn't worry about losing his wits and ends up ordering a second bottle and finishing almost all of it before the end of the meal.

"Well, you certainly don't need any dessert Liesl. Why don't we get outta here and see what's next?" The way he says it, his eyes still glued to my chest, leaves no doubt as to what he is planning for us. The waitress returns, looking like she'd rather spend an afternoon at the DMV than serve us. We make eye contact again and this time my read of her face leaves me with the impression that she is saying "run". Without asking us if we'd like dessert, coffee or an aperitif she leaves the bill with us and John doesn't disappoint, "Halvsies right?"