Strange Saturday!, Part 4 (Platonic Friends to TG’d Couple)

By FoxFaceStories

A Commission for AnubisForever

Luke and Ava are two platonic friends who confess their feelings of unhappiness with their bodies while attending a music festival together. But when they make a wish to be their ‘true selves’, they quickly find out that not only can wishes come true, but they can come true in utterly unexpected ways! Now stuck as Luna and Aidan, the pair must grapple with their changed identities and strange new feelings for one another, all while exploring their newfound existences, and bodies . . .

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Part 4: First Day Back

That one strange Saturday continued to extend out across the following two days. The next morning, I woke up with the hope that this was all some crazy dream, only to still be a woman. I was shorter, I was thinner (pretty damn petite, in fact), and I had the womanly curves to match. I had to wear bras, and it was only thanks to Aidan that I was able to get used to putting them on. That was a good thing, because I still had my job as a manager at the bank, and was expected to turn up and run the show from Monday to Friday.

As a woman.

A woman.

To say that the experience was odd as hell would be greatly understating things. I won’t claim I had ever been the most manly man. In fact, I’ve always been pretty proud of the fact that I’m pretty in touch with my emotions, and able to express them in a way most men struggle with. Ava - Aidan now, I suppose - had often complimented me on it as well. It was likely that we were able to converse so well in our friendship partly because of that. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t in the grips of ego death thanks to the loss of my manhood! Every man knew the importance of the member between their legs. The sheer value of it to one’s sense of self. It was more than just a piece of reproductive equipment, it was the thing that made one a man, even if one didn’t always admit it. I mean, guys made dick jokes at each other’s expense. Women mocked dudes who had tiny dicks. Men everywhere were utterly self-conscious over the size of their wieners, or, on the other hand, utterly boastful that they were a true man because of how well-endowed they were. To be castrated was to be torn loose from the ranks of maleness itself, to lose not just a body part but a symbol of all that you were supposed to be. Even the most emotional, in-touch-with-himself and subversive man felt this on some level, including me.

So yeah, I’d say that I was feeling pretty damn humiliated by the fact that I now had a pussy. And that wasn’t even getting into the ample C-cup tits, and my overall shortness and so on.

Or the work skirt. Or the woman’s blouse. Or the slim, feminine jacket.

“I can’t believe I’m looking like this,” I said, checking myself out in the mirror.

“You look great!” Aidan said from behind me. “You haven’t done the best work with the makeup, but it’s pretty good. Smart and professional and, if I may add, pretty sexy!”

I had to blush. It was my first day back at the office. I had taken a sick day to sort out the insanity of me suddenly having a vagina, but when I’d gone out to buy some necessities with Aidan, a few people asked if I was okay because I looked ‘sick.’ Aidan had to inform me that it was because most women were expected to wear makeup, and this would only get worse if I rocked up to work looking all professional but not ‘done up.’

“Do my lips have to be so red?”

“Relax, buddy. It’s not even party makeup. You look great. How’s the bra feeling?”

“Tight.”

“Lemme see if I can adjust it.”

“Just close your eyes!”

“Relax, it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.”

But it wasn’t just that. It had suddenly become very . . . different, to have a man touch my body. I mean, it always would have been, but I should have welcomed Aidan’s help, knowing he was usually a woman. Instead, my body shivered at his touch, my nipples stiffening a little. 

“I can do it!” I declared quickly, perhaps a bit too much so. The new man just shrugged.

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. A badly fitted bra can really hurt your shoulders - the straps will dig right in.”

She wasn’t wrong. Going into work I kept scratching at my shoulders, trying to adjust my bra straps without anyone noticing. My skirt was slim and professional, but it was still bizarre to experience the greater airiness and freedom that it offered, and wearing dark stockings was just the opposite in terms of how they encased my legs. I won’t lie though, they were oddly comforting.

“Morning Luna!” Jacob said as I came in on that first day back. My hair was better that morning, more professional thanks to Aidan’s advice, though having jewellery around my neck was all kinds of wrong.

“M-morning Jacob!” I replied, trying to play it cool. “Any news this morning?”

“One of our big fishes wants a meeting with you. They’re dissatisfied with the savings they’re getting on their long-term deposit account, and are continually threatening to switch banks unless they can withdraw at will instead of the set release date.”

I sighed. This would be Mr Erick Hartley, asshole extraordinaire. Real old money type who loved to say the words ‘diversified portfolio’ in any given sentence, especially to people who could never afford such a thing. It was always his way or the highway, and I had always struggled over how to handle him. It was always a display of dominance with the man, right down to the incessant insistence on crushing my hand when Erick shook it.

“I’ll take care of it,” I said, rubbing my temples. “I’ll try, at least. I’ll be in my office. Please tell me that the coffee machine is working again.”

Jacob, loyal banking assistant that he was, had ensured that it was repaired thanks to a continual spam of maintenance requests to the relevant people. He personally delivered my regular morning coffee to my desk, but I was surprised by the sweet aroma coming from it.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Your standard coffee,” he said with a slightly confused smile. He was a tall beanstalk of a young man, Jacob, with bright ginger hair and an earnest smile. “Vanilla latte with extra sugar.”

I experimentally lifted it to my nose. “I don’t drink - oh wow, that smells good. That smells really good.”

“Well, it is your usual, Luna.”

I had to put on my poker face. “Of course, I must just be feeling off today. Thank you Jacob.”

He left to go man the desk, ready for the bank to open. I took the time to answer emails and collect myself. My own office now had the name ‘Manager Luna Gavins’ upon it, and the same was true of the little nameplate on top of my desk. There was now a mirror on my desk - one of those little circular adjustable ones that were used to quickly check and re-apply makeup that women used. I used it now, looking at myself.

Still pretty.

Still with reasonable long hair, albeit tied up in a professional ponytail now.

Still female. 

And younger, I couldn’t forget that I had also become younger. My cheeks still even had some baby fat on them, even though I was now thirty years old; it would have been impressive were it not for the fact that it was freaky as hell.

“At least everyone sees it as normal, I guess,” I mumbled to myself. I tasted my vanilla latte, wishing I’d had my usual long black, only for the drink to elicit a slight moan from me. Goddamn, this was delicious! I’d always hated overly-sweet drinks, at least when it came to caffeinated beverages, but it seemed that this new body also came with new taste buds, because now I wanted more.

“Thank you Jacob,” I said, grinning just a little. “I’ll see if I can’t get you a raise some time.”

Of course, my happiness was short-lived. At my desk, I could effectively just be my old self, but there was no stopping the fact that Erick Hartley would be coming by to complain and moan and throw around his alpha male attitude as always. There would be a butting of heads, and I felt seriously underprepared now that I was in a smaller, lither, more petite female body. My voice alone commanded far less respect, and it would be hard to hold an even stare against him when I’d be looking up at him. I decided to simply deal with various emails and go over my calendar, then make a few appearances around the bank and see that the employees under my care were all undertaking their duties properly.

But an hour and a half later, he arrived. I had to take a deep breath as I saw him enter, which naturally left my breasts rising and falling, pressing against the material of my bra beneath my blouse. Aidan had been right; I should have let him adjust the straps, because I clearly had not fitted my boobs into the cups just right. 

“Jacob,” I told my assistant. “See to Mr Hartley here and then bring him to my office.”

“Um, sure. Don’t you want to see him now?”

I shook my head. “He hasn’t seen me yet. He’ll appreciate a show of strength; he comes to me.”

Jacob nodded, loyal adjutant that he was, and once more I had to reflect on the fact that this job wasn’t giving me the satisfaction I desired anymore. Once, this would have been a heart-racing challenge. Not, it was just making my blood pressure rise. Sure enough, the door to my office opened not long after and Jacob let Erick in. I stood, naturally, and extended a hand for him to shake.

“Mr Hartley, it is wonderful to see you,” I said. “Please, take a s-seat.”

I almost failed to finish the sentence; instead of gripping my hand firmly as usual, he instead took it demurely and then actually smiled. Not a vicious, shark-like smile either, but an actual smile. It took me quite aback.

“Luna! If it isn’t my favourite bank manager! I was very much hoping to see you instead of the other riff-raff around here.”

“Oh, Mr Hartley, you know I run a tight ship,” I improvised. “Hardly riff-raff.”

“Please, call me Erick, Luna, you know I insist.”

“Erick then. How can I help you this morning? I saw from your email that you were hoping to procure funds from your long-term deposit early? If so, I have some bad news on that-”

He chortled. He actually fucking chortled. “Oh, please don’t tell me bad news! Ah, but at least it’s better from your lips than anyone else’s. Go on then, tell me what I can and cannot do and we shall make some good argument about it, ha!”

Oh. That’s what this was about. I was an idiot. Erick Hartley was old, but he was also old-fashioned. He always wore his three piece suit with a red tie, his white hair combed over and his disposition professional. Even his rudeness was that of someone with a forceful and imperious personality, not your average angry Joe. And now, in this newly changed reality, I was a rather gorgeous yet professional woman, still damn good at my job. Of course Erick Hartley would be chivalrous and gentlemanly, even as he sparred with me. It was exactly his type. Still, I couldn’t help but smile. 

Maybe I could use this.

“You know I do love to argue with you, Erick,” I said, adding perhaps just a little giggle into my voice. “Just as I always enjoy your company. Let’s discuss the policy, shall we? You’ve certainly come in ready for the details, what with that very sharp suit. That’s definitely the war tie I see there.”

He chortled again. “War tie? I like that! Ha, I like that a lot. But you know me, Luna, I always try to dress up when attempting to impress a fine woman.”

“Well, as a fine woman myself, consider me impressed. Now, about this policy, let’s get stuck into it, and you can tell me about how Getrude is going as well . . .”

I could scarcely believe what I was doing. I won’t claim it came totally naturally to me, but it wasn’t unnatural either. I was actually flirting with the old dog! Not in any genuine sense, of course, and he knew that well too, but in that fun back and forth way that signalled a different kind of a cat and mouse game between us, and one that was much more fun and less contentious. I won’t say I was supremely comfortable with him remarking how beautiful I was, or that he was “riveted” to spend time with an “energetic young woman such as yourself,” but there wasn’t a whole lot of malice either. Weirdly, it even made me like Erick a lot more to see this more joking side of him, one that clearly liked to relive his glory days of being a bit of a chivalrous flirt. 

Afterwards, Jacob knocked upon the door and checked in on me.

“How did it go with him, Luna?” he asked.

I must have looked quite surprised, because his expression became more concerned.

“Oh, that badly?”

“No! No, just the opposite, Jacob. I - I think it went rather well, actually. It seems being a woman has some uses when it comes to men like that.”

Jacob’s eyebrows raised, and I realised what I’d just let out.

“Um, I mean that he tries to be a gentleman in my presence.”

“Of course. Will you be needing anything else?”

I tapped on my desk for a moment. My longer, perfectly manicured fingernails made a nice little rap rap rap upon the wood. I hadn’t felt a single inkling to chew them again, perhaps another good thing about this form.

“You know Jacob,” I said. “I’m already hankering for another one of those vanilla lattes. Think you can help me with that?”

***

Aidan and I caught up after work, again at my place. I was eager to tell him how I’d gone, especially since I’d acquitted myself rather well in my role. My employees seemed a lot less stressed, and I was thinking that I should chalk that up to my new female intuition. It really was a thing, I’d discovered. Now that my system was flooded with estrogen, I was in possession of a lot more natural empathy. Not that I’d ever been a hard taskmaster; I always tried to take care of those under my charge, but now I could notice the little flicker in Erica’s eyes that spoke to anxiety, or that Jessica was clearly trying not to cry after an interaction with a customer; both microexpressions that would have flown over my head prior to that strange Saturday’s events.

“It sounds like you’re getting in touch with your female side a bit,” Aidan said, sipping a beer. We were on my back deck, an idea space to chat about our bizarre gender swap without any concerns about people overhearing us.

His words made me blush. “Sort of. I mean, I suppose, in a way. It’s all just chemicals, isn’t it? Biology, chromosomes, etcetera. It was bound to make me change perspective in some ways.”

Aidan shrugged. “y'all seem to be trying to put a scientific spin on it, honey. But we both had the vision of that entity: I’d say we’ve entered a realm of magical when it comes to that.”

“You know, I hadn’t realised it until now, but you sound like much more of a cowboy now that you’re a man.”

Aidan grinned. “Woah nellie and hold your horses, really?”

I laughed. Then, to my embarrassment, I actually teared up.

“Hey, it was just a joke. Luna, you okay? Luke?”

I covered my mouth, accidentally imitating quite a feminine position. “Sorry, it’s just a lot. Today was such a rush! I’ve been a woman for three days and I feel like it’s all just coming down on me right now.”

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be alright,” he said. He put a broad, surprisingly powerful arm around me and held me close. He ran his fingers through my hair, and that too was rather lovely to experience. It soothed me in a way that human contact hadn’t for quite some time. “Trust me, y'all just need to let it out, okay? Just let it out. It’s a female thing, sometimes. Trust me, I could cry with the best of them. y'all just let it out, Luna.”

And I did. To my embarrassment, my throat even caught on a couple of sobs. It had only been one day of actual work - of public life as a temporary woman - and I was already breaking down. How could I possibly keep this up for several months? Three whole freaking months!?

“I j-just feel s-so emotional r-right now,” I managed.

“I know, I know. I’d feel the same in your position, but being a man now dulls me a bit to it, at least. I won’t deny I’ve had a couple of tears though. For a woman, it’s just more . . . powerful, I s’pose. How do you feel?”
 I wiped away the last stray tears from my cheeks and finished my sniffling. Slowly, I untangled from my friend’s arms, mourning the loss of their comfort as I ran a mental self-diagnosis.

“I feel . . . better. A lot better, actually. Why do I feel a lot better?”

Aidan just laughed, and it was an attractive belly laugh, a sort of friendly rumble that made me feel warm in his presence.

“That’s just how it is sometimes, bein’ a woman. y'all just gotta let it out, get the waterworks flowing, have another gal - or guy, I suppose, in my case - be there to support you, and then . . . catharsis.”

Catharsis was certainly the right way to put it, because it was like the fog clouds in my head were suddenly clear. I took a deep breath in, then let it out.

“I’m being all self-obsessed here. I should be asking how you went today. You went to take some shots, right?”

Aidan scratched the back of his head. I was reminded once more of how well-muscled his new form was, given that he was wearing hiking shorts and an ordinary blue shirt. He wasn’t enormous, but had a fit litheness to him that was surprisingly appealing to my female brain. Not that I would tell him, of course. This was just a stupid consequence of my dumb wish and that even dumber entity.

“Well, it ain’t no public appearance like you had to go through, that’s for sure,” he said. “In many ways, I guess I was still kinda hiding from the world. I mean, I was basically just taking some hiking trails and snapping photographs that people might want to pay and frame for. The forest reserve also wanted me to get some snaps of the deer population, maybe catch a wildcat if I was lucky, for their promotional material, but I was mainly just focused on myself.”

He was itching to say something, I could sense it.

“And? What aren’t you telling me?”

He smirked, lowering his head. “y'all always could read me. Having a new face ain’t changed it much. I . . . I had a good time, Luna.”

I furrowed my brow. “You did?”

“No, that’s a lie. I had a damn great time. I know this sounds crazy, me bein’ actually a woman in her forties down deep and all, but the strength and power of this body, and all that commanding testosterone, it was something else, honey!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He took a sip from his beer, and with the casualness of his pose, he looked like he’d been a man all his life.

“I really ain’t. I was able to walk faster and further than I’ve ever done before. I knew, intellectually and all, that men were stronger than women. That they had more endurance and reserves of energy and all that. But I had no idea how completely true that was until today when I was out in the wilderness, legs pumping, my back hauling all my equipment with ease, and just something in my system wanting to push me to go even further. This is gonna sound even stranger, but I even began to feel like a lumberjack, or a wild man or something. I had this image of myself with my hair grown out and with a full beard and everything, just this macho man out in the woods.”

I didn’t even know how to respond. After experiencing so much doubt after just a day or work, of feeling utterly emasculated from the loss of my member and befuddled by my soft curves and breasts and feminine voice, I was mostly just jealous at how Aidan had taken to being a man like a fish out of water. 

“That’s . . . wow. I guess that’s something, Aidan. I’m glad someone’s enjoying this.”

He scratched the back of his head nervously again, giving me another look at his biceps. “I know, right? I mean, I even had a lady compliment me as we walked. Said I looked ‘fit as a fiddle.’ I didn’t really know how to respond; I’m more used to guys cracking on to me rather than the reverse. Still, it made me puff out my chest.”

I emphasised my own obvious bustline. “Yeah, well I can’t not puff out mine.”

“You get comments?”

I sagged. “Not too many. I’m a bank manager, so that intimidates some. But I felt . . . looks. Stares. Pretty sure one guy was looking at my ass when I bent over to do some paperwork. Oh, and I definitely raised an eyebrow when I spread my legs while sitting.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you definitely gotta watch that, hun!”

I laid back against the couch set. It was one of those deck swing sets, and so we gently rocked it together. I rested my head against his shoulder as he had often rested against mine. There was nothing sexual in it; we were just platonic friends as always, and yet . . .

And yet Aidan did smell nice. Manly, in a way that was good? It was hard to quantify, and my tired mind didn’t really want to quantify it.

“If it’s any consolation, I still don’t love this,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Well, for one, being hairy is not entirely my jam. Or at least, it’ll take a while ta get used to. And I feel like I’m more aggressive than before.”

“You were never a daisy flower.”

“Oh shut up, you. I’m just getting used to the impulses. Also, having a cock.”

I nearly spat out the beer I was starting to sip. “Y-yeah, I miss mine.”

“This one’s a massive gun. Seriously, I’m packing a pistol here. Did you want to see it?”

“Absolutely not.”

Aidan chuckled. “Well, I guess I suck at shooting the shit like a guy too. Pretty sure I still walk too much like a lady. There’s a lot to get used to, being taller and broader and the like. I don’t know. It’s a big role reversal, to be sure.”

We sat in silence for a while, both of us taking in the proceedings of the last few days. I was distinctly aware of how much bigger my friend was than me, and how coarser, and hairier, and manlier. Meanwhile, my chest stuck out thanks to my breasts, and the jeans I was wearing were tight against my widened hips. Coupled with my longer hair and other intrusive features, and there was no denying that I was a woman.

“We’re going to have to adapt to this, aren’t we?” I said.

“Yeah,” Aidan said. “I guess we will.”

More silence followed, melancholic but companionable. But then a bold idea struck me, and while it was also a little embarrassing to say out loud, I knew I had to say it anyway.

“Maybe . . . maybe we should move in together.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Just for a little bit,” I explained, “while we get back on our feet. Look, I’m not good at being a woman, and you still have a bit to learn about being a man. We need to help each other when it comes to clothing, fashion, style, mannerisms, how we act around different groups, and all that. We’re the only ones that understand what the other is going through. If nothing else, I can help you figure out whatever is going on with that baby beard of yours, and you can help me sort out my hair. It wouldn’t be permanent, but it’s not like you haven’t slept over before. It’s not sexual.”

Simply saying ‘it’s not sexual’ seemed to make Aidan look me up and down. His gaze lingered just a little bit further upon my chest, and again that embarrassing warmth flowed through me.

“Of course,” he said. “Yeah, that makes sense. I guess I just didn’t expect y'all to be so . . . forward. That’s kinda my thing at the moment, right? But you’re not wrong: we both wished for a new life, and now we have to deal, until we can turn back. This might just be the best way.”

He extended a hand. “Shake on it?”

I took it, and then winced as he crushed my daintified hand a little.

“Oh, sorry! Don’t know my own strength.

I shook my hand. “That’s another thing we’ll have to get you adjusted to."

To Be Continued . . .