The All New Chris

This is my first time writing a story. Comments are very welcome, but please go easy on me.

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"I'm sorry Chris, I'm a lesbian."

Those words had turned Chris's stomach inside out and made his heart sink like a stone. He had tried to bury them at the back of his mind, but they kept coming back hurting him more than anything in his life had ever hurt him before.

Chris had always been solitary. At school he'd had few friends and mostly preferred to keep to himself. Girls had been a total mystery. He was a late developer anyway and didn't see the attraction that was so obvious to all the other boys his age. He never had a girlfriend at school, and even after he started to take an interest he was too shy to do anything about it. He was hardly a social animal, so dating wasn't important. None of this really changed when he started at University, everything was all so new and intimidating, Chris wasn't sure where to begin.

Sally was different. For a start she had just come up and spoken to him. He had been sitting on his own in the Student common room, and this stunningly gorgeous girl had just come up and asked him if the seat next to him was taken. Sally had short blonde hair, and a slim figure, although she could hardly be called scrawny. And she had made everything so easy. She was studying History like Chris and had lead the conversation completely, putting him totally at ease, sharing her fears and hopes about the University experience. Before long Chris found himself telling her everything about himself, about his personal anxieties that he wouldn't fit in, that he would let his family down and she had just responded. Before long they had arranged some study sessions together and the relationship just flowed from there. Sally had recommended books, they had been to lectures together. Soon they started socialising, Sally introduced Chris to her friends; they even went to a few parties. Chris was never comfortable in these sort of environments, so Sally hadn't pushed it. They would meet for coffee and chat, they had similar taste in music and movies.

Quite unexpectedly, Chris found strange feeling stirring that he had never really experienced and had certainly never expected. At first he thought it was merely a crush. Obviously Sally was attractive, actually stunning, and they clearly had a lot in common. Over time, as he thought about her, obsessed over her, fantasised about her, wanted to know everything about her, and for her to know everything about him, as his happiness became completely tied in to her, what she was feeling and how she responded to him, he realised that it was much more than a crush. He was in love, for the first time in in his life, completely and utterly infatuated.

Even with Chris's shy temprement there was no way he could not act on this realisation. After days of playing it backwards and forwards in his head, rehearsing it over and over he finally plucked up the courage to tell Sally how he felt. He met up with her alone at a quiet corner in the student bar and poured out his heart and soul to her confessing everything about what he felt. In a way, he was more intimate with her than he had been with anyone else in his life. And then she told him she was a lesbian.

Sally wasn't cruel or heartless, which somehow made it so much more painful. She seemed so scared and uncertain about how to react, and then she just told him. She even apologised for not making it clear earlier. Chris just felt so stupid; how could he have not seen the signs? Were there signs? Would he have even known what to look for? He couldn't say anything to her, he just collapsed in on himself. He left with out a word and just ran back to his room trying to force back his tears.

Afterwards was even worse. It wasn't just the rejection, Chris had lost his best friend. There was no way their relationship could carry on as before. What was worse was that he had just ran off without talking to her. Goodness knows what Sally had thought, had he rejected her as forcefully as she rejected him? Did she think he was some sort of homophobic bigot? That would have been unbearable, that she was thinking something so horrible about him some where.

Days and weeks passed and Chris was no better. He cut himself off from everyone and everything, trying to bury his feelings in a deep place inside himself. His studies were slipping, he doubted that he would be able to pass his exams, not that he cared. Sally's rejection had left a wound far too deep to ever heal. And that was why he now found himself at the front door of a student house whose address was written on a torn sheet of paper, his last most desperate hope.

Nervously Chris rang the doorbell. A women in a brown T-Shirt and a long skirt answered.

"Um... Holly?" Chris stammered.

"Upstairs," came the reply and the women gestured to the end of the hallway. She was obviously used to these sort of requests. Chris cautiously made his way up the stairs to a room with a light green door marked with a nameplate that read "Holly Shaw." Chris knocked on the door, but it was off the latch and slowly opened with a threatening creak.

"Come in", came a clear voice with a slightly rural edge. Chris did so, the room was lit softly by the light of candles and he could smell incense. It was decorated with a variety of nick- nacks and souvenirs, including a collection of beanie babies and troll dolls. Somehow, this had not been what Chris had expected. Holly had her back to him and was wearing jeans and a baggy T-Shirt, faded red. She was in the process of feeding a large Alsation dog, strictly against the rules in University owned accommodation.

"Good girl Fiona," Holly said warmly to the dog. Chris thought this a somewhat unusual name for a dog, but gave it no further thought. Holly turned to face him, she was short, curvy with mousey brown hair that seemed to go everywhere.

"Hello," she said, "what can I do for you?" She didn't seem in the least bit surprised to see him.

"Its.. um... well, My name's Chris and er... I've heard people talking, you know.. around campus," Chris stammered.

"Come on Chris, spit it out. I promise not to bite," Holly flashed him a lopsided smile.

"There's a rumour going around that you're a witch," Chris finally blurted out. Holly's expression didn't change.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear," Holly replied calmly.

Chris felt like an idiot. Of course the whole thing was ridiculous. In his desperation he had let himself believe something completely absurd and had only made himself look even more foolish. He turned to leave his eyes fixed on his feet.

"Of course you can believe some things," Holly retorted. Chris spun around awestruck. Was she saying the rumours were true?

"What did you hear about?" Holly continued, "was it that business with the guys in the bar, or the lecturer with his head stuck up his arse, literally now."

"No," Chris replied, even more unsure of himself, "I heard something about a rude waiter and having to crawl around on his knees."

"Yeah that was a good one," Holly smiled. "Look Chris, if you here to pledge your soul to the dark one, or worship me as a goddess you can forget it. And don't think I'm into naked dances in the moonlight either."

"I'm not... I don't," Chris protested.

"Good. All that stuff's just a load of bollocks anyway. I suppose you were expecting a bunch of old books, runes and stuffed animals?"

"Sort of," Chris admitted, sheepishly.

"Yeah, well not a bunch of troll dolls anyway. Look Chris, Magic isn't about any of that flashy stuff, its more about intent and will. All the showy stuff works fine for some people because they believe in it, but it wont work for anyone who doesn't truly believe it, deep within themselves, no matter how big their candles are. Now what was it that you wanted?"

"There's this girl.." Chris began.

"Let me stop you there," Holly cut him off abruptly. "If she isn't interested in you there's nothing I can do. I can't change people's emotions, only their physical states. I could make her really horny and fill her up with lust for you, that's mostly physical anyway, but I'm not into that. It's tantamount to rape. Anyway, if you really love her you wouldn't want that anyway. She'd be done with you in a day."

"It's not that," Chris protested."It isn't that she isn't interested. Well she isn't, but I love her, I know I do, more than anyone I've ever loved before. And she's a lesbian, so I'm not even on her radar. I mean, I can live with that, but I think I've ruined everything and I can't loose her as a friend as well."

"You're a sweet guy Chris," Holly flashed him the lopsided smile again. "I can't change her sexuality, but I might be able to do something for you. If you really love her."

Holly turned and reached up to a shelf behind her and pulled down a small bottle of a pale blue-green liquid. She handed it to Chris.

"Drink this at midnight tonight," she instructed. "Don't worry about getting the time exactly right, remember what I said about intent? As long as you think it's midnight it'll be fine. Oh and you had better take this." She handed him a second bottle of red liquid, "all purpose antidote, just in case. But phone me before you take it. Here's my mobile number, only call in an emergency. And good luck."

Chris mumbled a "thank you" and turned to leave. His stomach was doing somersaults and his heart was racing. He could hardly think straight, but for the first time in weeks he was feeling a faint glimmer of hope.

Later that night Chris sat on the end of his bed gripping the bottle tightly in his closed fist. On sober reflection the whole thing seemed faintly ridiculous now. Holly had offered him hope, but he really had no reason to trust or believe in anything she said. Really, it was ridiculous. All he to go on were a few silly rumours about black magic on campus, and a spaced out girl who clearly believed all this rubbish.

But the thought kept nagging him, "what have I got to loose?" He already utterly miserable. The situation was irrational, but what had rationality got him? If he remained open minded and gave Holly's solution a go the worst that could possibly happen was nothing at all. Perhaps this was the point of Holly's speech about intent and will. Maybe all this magic stuff was just a psychological trick to snap him out of his current funk. The bottle was nothing more than a prop. Looking at things that way, Chris concluded, he might as well believe in it, or at least act as though he did which amounted to the same thing.

The minutes ticked away as midnight approached. Chris found himself feeling unaccountably nervous. After all, all he was planning to do was drink a bottle of coloured water, which is what he suspected he had been given. Maybe the problem was that he had invested so much of himself in the outcome. Chris realised he was over-analysing the situation in order to beat down his stress, and that midnight was fast approaching. He uncapped the bottle, held it up to his lips and swallowed the lot as his watch alarm beat out a tinny dirge.

The liquid was more or less flavourless, but felt slightly warm going down. Chris coughed slightly and swallowed again. His throat was slightly agitated so he drank a glass of water. Other than this the liquid had produced no discernible effect. Chris reasoned that there was no reason to suspect an immediate reaction, but in reality he was now sure that the whole thing really was just a sham. Feeling disappointed, but somehow resigned Chris got into bed and drifted off to sleep.

He woke up with a start. His radio alarm clock showed the time to be just after two o'clock. But Chris was hardly in a position to notice the time. Stabbing up through his boxer shorts was the biggest erection he had ever had in his life. His penis shot up ramrod straight red and throbbing. It was so stiff it was actually painful.

Chris grabbed his penis with both hands and frantically rubbed at it half masturbating and half trying to force it back down. Images of Sally flooded his semi-concious mind. He had always tried not to fantasise about her in a sexual way, she meant too much to him to treat her as just a tawdry sex object, but now he couldn't stop himself. He imagined her naked body spread out before him. He thought about taking her nipples in his mouth and nibbling them, licking her all over, burying his face in her damp pussy. All the time he gripped his penis more and more firmly.

After what seemed like an eternity Chris came, ejaculating forcefully all over his bed sheets and himself. He cried out in ecstasy and relief as he ejaculated forcefully again and again, it felt as though he was forcing every part of himself out through his penis, as if his very soul was being released. Finally he collapsed with exhaustion back onto his bed, his penis and balls numb with the effort.

Chris slept late, his nigh time activities had left him utterly exhausted. He woke the next morning feeling groggy and spaced out. He found it nearly impossible to focus and he felt as though he wasn't entirely at home in his own body. He staggered to the bathroom with some difficulty, he felt wrong as though his centre of gravity had shifted. He ran the cold taps and wet his hands before lifting them to his face. He rubbed his eyes blearily and tried to focus on his reflection. For a few seconds he couldn't take in what he saw and then his head snapped together all at once. The reflection in the mirror wasn't his, it wasn't him. The reflection had a narrow waste, wide hips and a soft hairless face. The reflection had breasts. Chris gave a high pitched scream and then ran back to his, or rather her, room.

Panicking, Chris reached for her mobile phone and scrambled around frantically for the scrap of paper with Holly's phone number. She miss-dialled three times before she got the number. The phone rang and then a slightly sleepy voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Holly, its Chris," he blurted out, not sure what to say.

"Hey Chris," Holly beamed, "so you took my potion."

"What in the hell have you done to me?" Chris screeched down the phone.

"I've helped you," Holly replied in a calm, measured tone. "I told you I couldn't change your true love's sexuality, but I can make it so that you're on her radar. You told me you truly loved her, isn't she worth this?"

"No! Yes? I don't know," Chris stammered, "Holly I'm a man. What the hell is everyone going to say. What am I going to tell my parents."

"Oh don't worry about that," Holly replied dismissively, "my spells are good enough to solve a little problem like that. I didn't just change your body, I changed your life, as far as the rest of the world's concerned you've always been a woman. I didn't even have to change your name."

"How could you possibly do that?" Chris demanded, "You couldn't change the memories of everyone I've ever met."

"It doesn't work that way. It's like throwing a stone in a pond and watching the ripples. I make a big enough change to you and the world changes around it. You'd be surprised at just how easy it is in practice."

"I can't stay a woman, I couldn't cope," Chris pleaded, getting back to the point, "can I just take the antidote."

"Yes Chris the antidote will work," Holly sighed, "but you'll have to take it at midnight. At least give it a day, find your true love, see what she thinks about the new you. You've really got nothing to loose."

Chris hung up. The initially rush of panic was starting to wear off. Seen rationally she supposed that Holly was right and she had, technically, given her what she'd asked for. This was weird she reflected, she was already thinking of herself as she. Turning to look in the mirror she examined her new female face properly for the first time. All things considered Holly had done a pretty good job. Okay, she couldn't call herself beautiful, but she was certainly attractive. As a man Chris would have happily chatted up his female self in bar, if he'd ever had the nerve, or if chatting up women was the sort of thing he would ever do.

Glancing furtively from side to side Chris slipped her top over her head and took a first look at her new breasts. They were perfect. Large, but certainly not ridiculous, firm, round and not a hint of sagging. She reached out and tweaked a nipple, giving a slight gasp as she did so. They were surprisingly sensitive, more so than her male nipples had been. Chris reached down and tugged at her boxer shorts before slipping them off under her feet and taking a proper look at herself in the mirror. Her pussy was marked by a neat triangle of dark public hair, obviously his female self kept that area nice and need. Tentatively she reached out a finger between her legs, parted her labia and slipped inside. She gave a gasp as her fingers entered, this was completely different than anything else she had felt before. For a few seconds she rubbed gently at the area towards the top of her pussy delighting in the new sensations.

All at once Chris snapped back to the present. What was she doing? Was she actually getting turned on by the sight of her own body, narcissism in the most literal sense of the term? Certainly her sexuality hadn't changed along with her body, if she was attracted to her female self. Well she certainly couldn't spend all day masturbating in her room. If she was going to follow Holly's advice she would have to get out and about. Easier said than done of course. Chris was uncomfortable enough socialising without having to cope with a whole new body. But then he reflected, it wasn't as if people would know it was Chris, or at least not the same Chris. Besides, she wasn't an ungainly geek boy any more, she was a semi-beautiful woman.

Chris rummaged through her wardrobe for some suitable clothes. Bra and panties were easy, she picked out something comfortable, but not completely boring in white. She slipped on a relatively plain, if tight top and a pair of easy fitting jeans. She didn't think that she wasn't ready to try skirts just yet. Examining the contents of her wardrobe, she noticed that her female self was a far better dresser than her male self, with a wider selection of outfits, although that was hardly saying much. As a man his wardrobe had contained nothing but jeans and a variety of T-shirts. As a woman she owned a variety of skirts, dresses and different tops, although she still retained her jeans.

Chris also found her female hair easier to manage. It was still quite short, although oddly shorter for a woman than it had been for a man, but fell into a neat bob instead of the scruffy mess that had defeated any comb Chris had tried to run through it.

Chris reflected on her new look in the mirror. Superficially, it was very similar to the sort of clothes she had worn as a man, but the way they hung on his female body and the way she carried herself made all the difference. Having breasts and proper hips forced her to walk and stand in a new way which seemed, somehow more flattering.

Chris felt oddly more self-confident, probably because it was easier to view this new body objectively and she could see how attractive it was. This new found self-assurance showed clearly in her body language, and this served to make her seem even more attractive. Feeling more confident than she had ever felt in her life, Chris left her room to see what the world had to offer her new self.

It was a warm day and Chris walked breezily across the campus, her head held unusually high. She had it in mind to head for the library and pick up some books she needed for a badly neglected essay she should have been working on when she had been moping about Sally. It was a bit early too try anything more daring, she thought, and she certainly didn't want to bump into Sally yet.