When Lightning Strikes

"Well, are you riding, or are you walking?" I looked up into the truck. The voice belonged to a woman probably somewhere in her forties, with kind eyes and a broad smile. "I mean, some people like walking along the road in the middle of nowhere in the rain. Me, I prefer being somewhere nice and warm and dry. But it's your call."

I took a deep breath, smiled back, and climbed in.

My adventure had started a few short hours ago with a quick stop to take care of mother nature's call along the side of the road, the side effect of my propensity to carry a large glass of iced tea everywhere I went. It was a running joke among my friends, the large 24-ounce tumbler of the magic elixir I always seemed to have with me.

It had been funny at first, the point when I realized I had locked myself out of my car with the motor running, all because I had been in too much of a hurry to not wet my pants. When the thunder clapped and the skies opened, drenching me, I stopped laughing.

When the lightning struck my car, shattering the windows, blowing out the tires and catching it on fire, and knocking me on my ass, I started crying.

I pulled the collar of my lightweight denim jacket up around my neck, pretending it was going to help, and started walking.

My phone, my computer, my clothes, everything I owned had been in that car. I had my driver's license, a three-year-old condom, a scratch-off lottery ticket worth five dollars, fifty bucks in cash and a debit card for an account that contained enough for marginal expenses in my wallet, and about fourteen-hundred miles to go to get to my friend Pete's house where the promise of access to the beach and a couch to crash on until I could figure out how to tell my dad I had flunked out of school waited for me.

She handed me a towel when I climbed into her truck. "Go in the back, dry off, and get out of those wet clothes. I'll come back and find you something to change into when I get to the rest stop up the way. There's a toilet to the left if you need to use it and should be a trash bag under the sink for your wet things."

There was a kitchenette, a dining table, a bed, a little storage, and the toilet she mentioned. Sparse but functional, the sleeper on her truck was nice. There was no doubt it belonged to a woman.

I did as she instructed, stripping off my soaked clothes, putting them in a trash bag, drying off and helping myself to a quilt from the bed to wrap myself in while I waited to find out what options she could offer me to wear.

"Thank you for stopping. My name's Chris." I moved up to the seat next to hers.

"No worries, Chris. I wouldn't want to be stuck out on the road like that. I'm Maggie." she glanced at me and gave me another big smile. "Was that burned-out car I passed a while back yours by chance?"

"Yeah. I stopped to go to the bathroom, and, of all things, lightning hit it. That's about how my luck has been going lately."

"Where you headed?"

"I've got a friend in L.A. that said I could crash with him for a while. I just need to figure out how to get there."

"Well, that's where I'm headed, and I don't see any reason you can't ride with me. You don't look like an axe murderer or anything."

Maggie reminded me a bit of my mom, and I decided I liked her. "I think I'd like that and even if I were an axe murderer, my axe would have burned up in my car, so I think you're safe." We both laughed.

We rode in silence until she pulled off the road into the rest stop.

"I can't promise you're going to like your options, but you're not riding naked, and they are better than being soaking wet, so just be flexible, OK?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, my clothes won't fit you." Maggie was not a petite woman, and at 5 - 8 and 145 pounds, I was not what you might call a strapping example of manliness. "But my daughter rides with me sometimes and keeps a small suitcase here. I think some of her stuff might work."

"Your daughter?" If Maggie had been looking, I'm sure she would have recognized the look of disbelief on my face.

"Sorry, it's all I have and like I said, you are not riding in my truck naked, so it's this or soaking wet."

She pulled the suitcase out and set it on the bed. I was just getting warm and the idea of putting my drenched clothes back on was not at all appealing. I got up, holding the quilt tight around me, and traded places with her, closing the curtain as she put the truck in gear and pulled out of the rest stop.

The suitcase was full of exactly what I imagined a young woman would have. The underwear was skimpy and lacey and the clothes a mix of bright colors and soft fabrics, most of it very revealing.

I dug around for the panties I thought would provide the most coverage for my modest package and slipped them on, discovering that the soft fabric felt nice against my crotch, sending a familiar twinge through the area. Great, the last thing I need is an erection. I chuckled to myself, flicking him with my finger and tucking him down into the soft satin and lace.

The jeans were the obvious choice. If they hadn't had a small amount of stretch to them, I would never have gotten them on. When I zipped them and buttoned the button, any chances of that erection I was worried about went out the window.

I took a deep breath and picked up the one sweatshirt in the case. It looked both comfortable and warm and, since practicality was all that mattered; I decided that comfy and warm outweighed any pride I had left and it being bright purple with a large 'I Heart PINK' across the front wasn't that big of a deal, even if the neck opening kept slipping off my shoulder.

Ankle socks with a lace ruffle, Maggie's daughter was definitely all-girl, and a pair of tennis shoes that just fit, and I climbed back into the seat next to Maggie. She looked at me and smiled, not saying a word. I looked out the window, watching the storm rage around us, trying not to think about what I was wearing.

"Gas and food." She answered the question before I could ask as she pulled into the truck stop. "Unless you're not hungry."

"I could eat something." I said meekly, not wanting to admit that I was starving.

"I thought so." She gave me that big smile again. "You can help me with the fuel."

We topped off the tanks and went inside. From what I saw in the diner, female drivers like Maggie seemed to be a rare breed. Everybody seemed to know her and greeted us with mostly smiles and nods of acknowledgement.

I seemed to attract a lot of attention, but the looks weren't the friendly smiles that Maggie was getting. Most of the guys tried not to let me see them looking at me, and some were blatantly ogling me.

A few guys had obviously been on the road alone for a while and the looks they gave me were almost scary. I could feel my cheeks flush.

"Relax." Maggie reached across our table and patted my arm. "They're not getting close to you while you're with me."

"But I'm a guy..."

"Not in those clothes, you're not. Those jeans, how the sweatshirt hangs off your shoulder, the way your hair frames your face, I'm guessing right now, you're the prettiest girl some of these guys have seen in a while. A little help here and there and you'd be in real trouble. Look in the mirror behind the counter. You'll see what I mean."

She was right. Letting my hair air dry had brought out the natural curl in my auburn locks. That I hadn't bothered to get a haircut in a while meant it was longer than what most guys would wear. It framed my face perfectly, accenting the green eyes my mother had given me. My long neck and the lack of muscular definition in my shoulders, or anywhere on my body combined with the way the sweatshirt hung on my frame, wasn't just feminine, it was sexy.

"Wow." I couldn't help but smile at Maggie.

"And that is the deadliest thing about you. Until right now, you were clueless about how cute you are. If you want to have some fun, twirl your hair around your finger and wink at that big guy at the counter, the one that looks like he wants you for dessert."

"Really?"

"Just try it. Trust me."

I thought about the way some girls in high school had teased me like that and did my best to emulate them. Biting my lip just a little, I smiled and twirled my hair, looked him in the eye and winked.

The poor guy turned beet red and fell off his stool, trying to stand up.

"Serves you right, Bennie. Now stop staring at the poor girl and eat. She's young enough to be your granddaughter, for crissake." The waitress admonished him as he got up and sat back down.

Part of me felt bad, but a bigger part of me enjoyed the rush of power I felt. I had never impacted someone like that, ever. I looked around the room and it slowly dawned on me everybody thought I was a girl and all it had taken was a pair of tight jeans and an exposed shoulder.

Maggie and I ate, and I filled her in on the rest of my story: helicopter mom, domineering dad, high expectations, low performance, and the pending disappointment when I told them I had flunked out of school.

She filled me in on her story, widowed, she and her husband used to drive the truck together. A daughter, Abby, that was the light of her life and a blossoming lawyer out in L.A., which was her home base and her destination after she dropped her load in Vegas.

We made our way through the convenience store, where I picked up a new toothbrush and a few other things while Maggie grabbed a few things from the feminine supplies area. It was one of the nice things about the store at a large truck stop. They had a wide variety of things specifically for the truckers you wouldn't find at your corner 7-11.

A quick trip to the bathroom where she gave me an introduction on how to go potty like a girl. Considering my current outfit and the way I was probably going to be dressed until we got to L.A., it seemed like a good idea.

I did my best to stifle an enormous yawn when we got back to the truck.

"You have had a long day, haven't you?" Maggie looked at me.

I just shrugged.

"Listen, why don't you see if Abby has a nightgown or something you can change into, and I'll show you how to make your bed? You can sleep while I drive. I need to make my delivery on time, you know."

There was no arguing with her logic, so I headed back into the sleeper to see what I could find. I just grabbed the first nightgown I found and tossed it on the bed. Pulling the sweatshirt over my head and stripping off the jeans, I brushed my teeth and took a long look at myself in the mirror. It was all there; I had just never seen it before.

My eyes were large emerald pools, my face soft and void of anything that would ever be a beard. It always had been. My hair was a rich auburn, not an orange red but a deep red with a natural curl to it.

My body was thin and lithe, with long, almost delicate fingers, a slight waist with modest hips that the panties I was wearing accented nicely. The only hair on my body was a small tuft of red above my modest penis, two similar patches under my arms, and a smattering of light red on my calves. If I had breasts, I would be a girl. A girl with a small penis, but a girl none the less.

"You, OK?" Mattie appeared in the mirror behind me.

"I don't know. This is the first time I have seen myself like this. I'm more feminine that I realized. I guess I always have been. I've just never seen it."

"Doesn't have to be a bad thing if you don't want it to be. I mean, you took out that douche Bennie with a smile and a wink. That was fun, right?"

I smiled and blushed.

"Now get to bed and I'll help you figure it out in the morning."

She showed me how to make the dining area into a bed. I climbed in and was out before I knew it. The soft satin of the baby doll I had chosen caressed my skin as the gentle vibrations of the big rig working its way down the highway rocked me to sleep.

"Ok, sleepy head. If we're going to eat breakfast, somebody needs to get out of bed." She swatted me on the butt.

I rolled over and smiled up at her. "Maggie, thank you for everything." I smiled.

"You can thank me by getting out of bed." She laughed, and I rolled out of bed, stretching, and moaning and feeling better than I had in a long time.

We put the dining table back up and Maggie whipped up some eggs and toast while I picked out an outfit to wear.

"I think I'm going to need some help." She turned toward me to find me in a pair of shorts and a camisole top with spaghetti straps that didn't quite cover my tummy.

"Nice choice, but what do you need help with?"

"Can you teach me how to shave?" I showed her my legs and under my arms. We both laughed.

Twenty minutes later, I was obsessed with rubbing my silky-smooth legs together.

We stopped for lunch in El Paso, and I called Pete on Maggie's phone, giving him the short version of my adventures, potty break, lightning, car burning up, rainstorm, Maggie rescuing me, all of it.

"Well, wear something sexy and maybe I won't charge you rent." Pete laughed when I told him the only clothes I had to wear were girls.

Pete had been my best friend throughout high school. He was one of the few football players that had never picked on me, defending me on multiple occasions. We got to know each other and became close. I helped him with his English papers, and he protected me.

Senior year, we would hang out and he would tell me about his latest conquest, and I would complain about not being able to get a date. He set me up once or twice and I had an enjoyable time. 'Doing Pete a favor' was as far as the relationship was ever going to go. That's just the way it was.

We graduated, and he went to USC to play football for the Trojans while my dad sent me to Texas to go to business school. When I flunked out, he was the first and only person I called. Without hesitation, he invited me to come stay.

Maggie gave me her address, some place down by Disneyland, and told me to tell Pete we'd be there in about three days. We would let him know when we got there, and he could come pick me up.

My next call wasn't an easy one. "Mom?"

"Chris, honey, are you OK? We got a call from the highway patrol. They found your car." I should have called my parents the first chance I got, but I wasn't even close to ready to face my dad, even on the phone.

"Mom, I'm fine. I'm going to see Pete and yeah, my car is a lost cause. It got struck by lightning. My phone was in it, or I would have called you right then. Yes, I have clothes. I blushed. Yes, I'm safe. A truck driver named Maggie offered me a ride. She's going to L.A. anyway."

I handed the phone to Maggie and let the two of them talk. That seemed to ease my mom's fears a bit. Maggie smiled and rolled her eyes, listening to my mom go on and on about how worried she was about me. I had heard it all a million times before.

Maggie handed me the phone, and I asked my mom to deposit enough for me to get a new phone, promising that Pete and I wouldn't do anything she wouldn't approve of, and that I would behave and listen to Maggie (Somehow, after a few minutes on the phone, they were now best friends) and that I'd call her every day to let her know I was safe. Before my car burned, I did that anyway because even with all her attempts to control me; she was my mom. I loved her and I enjoyed talking to her.

Somehow, me wearing short shorts that almost covered my ass and a lace-trimmed camisole with a bare midriff never came up.

My mom deposited way more than I needed. I thought she might, and thanks to the cloud, I could recover most of what had been on my old phone. An hour after I entered the ATT store, I had my new phone and the sales rep's phone number in case I was ever in El Paso again and wanted someone to show me around.

We spent the night just outside of Phoenix at a small truck stop that Maggie knew. The food was excellent and there was no Bennie to deal with. Oh, I got plenty of looks with my butt cheeks peeking out of my shorts, but nobody did anything more than ogle and I decided that wasn't so bad.

The run into Vegas wasn't terribly long, so Maggie let me sleep in a little. She had already headed to the diner for breakfast when I crawled out of bed.

Perusing Abby's suitcase for something to wear, I thought about how I had embarrassed Bennie just wearing jeans and that sweatshirt. Then I thought about how the salesman at the phone store had treated me in those shorts and the camisole.

I had been invisible my entire life. The only friends I had in school only hung out with me because of Pete and now I was getting so much attention it was making me nervous, but it was a good nervous.

I liked the way it felt when people looked at me in Abby's clothes. I had seen it myself. I was almost a girl, anyway.

The question was, how far did I want to push it?

Smiling broadly when I joined Maggie in the diner, I was wearing a cute dress that fit my body snugly and flared at the waist, with sandals. I think what caught her attention most was that I had worn a bra and obviously stuffed it with something.

"Is Abby going to get her clothes back when we get to L.A.?" she chuckled.

"Can't make any promises." I smiled and blushed, sliding onto the stool next to Maggie.

I ordered, and Maggie disappeared to run an errand she had just remembered. Twenty minutes later, she came back with a small black bag that she had set on the floor beneath her stool, grinning like the Cheshire Cat while the waitress poured her another cup of coffee.

Maggie filled me in on the plan for the day. We should get to Vegas early afternoon. It would take about an hour to drop her load, mostly because of the paperwork. We would have the rest of the afternoon to do some girl things. She seemed to enjoy saying it that way, and if she was lucky, she would pick up something tomorrow morning to deliver to some place in L.A.

The waitress dropped the check, and some man grabbed it before Maggie could. "My pleasure if it's ok. Seeing you two together just reminded me of when my son would ride with me sometimes. Nothing better than that and I'd like to thank you for reminding me is all."

Maggie smiled and nodded. "This Is my niece Christy, and yeah, it's been wonderful having her company. Thank you for breakfast."

"Well, she's a beautiful young lady. I'm sure she makes you and her parents proud."

"She does." Maggie looked at me like I had just won the Olympics.

"Thank you." I gave a weak smile, grabbing Maggie's hand and squeezing.

I danced all the way back to the truck, spinning in circles and laughing as my dress flew around me. Maggie just watched me and laughed with the same look on her face she had had when the man asked if she was proud of me.

I had never been this happy before. My entire universe just seemed to line up, and it all started when I climbed into Maggie's truck two days ago. It was like the lightning hitting my car had wiped away the old me and given me a new chance to be someone better, and that someone better was a girl.

"It all just feels so right." I answered her question before she could ask. "Ever since you showed me how cute I was that first night, it's just been getting better and better. The more girly I get, the happier and more relaxed I am. I can't explain it, I don't understand it, and I don't think I want to. I just don't want it to end. Does that make any sense?"

"More than you know, and I think this will help." She handed me the black bag; 'Extended wear Self Adhesive Breast Forms. "I can help you put them on if you'd like?"

I nodded, giving her a widening grin as the butterflies in my stomach exploded.

We were halfway to Vegas when my phone rang. My face went white.

"Dad?" I half whispered into the phone, getting up and moving back into the sleeper.

"First, thank God you're ok. Your mom told me what happened."