Workman: Chapter Five - Part Ten

The second the door snapped closed I felt mortified that I’d done that to her.

I wanted desperately to open the door and call after her; to put on the ring and run down the road after her; to take her in my arms. But I didn’t let myself. I forced myself to stay there, pressed against the door.

However uncomfortable I felt being a woman again I knew that I couldn’t go back. It was clearly too dangerous and I was playing with the emotions of that poor woman each time I did it. She was plainly very interested in me – in Geoff. Each time I saw her she would open her heart more and more. I couldn’t do that to her, knowing I was going to have to withdraw eventually.

No part of me wanted to become a man forever. Barriers were what I needed. I had to make it difficult to change again to deter any temptation I might have. For Sangeeta’s sake, if not for mine. I really did care about her feelings and hated to see her hurt.

I set my brow and charged upstairs, went through to the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. It was still filled half and half with Geoff and Alison clothes. The Geoff ones had to go. If I threw them away then it would be a statement of intent – a symbol of my desire to remain a woman.

I went to grab out an armful of the men’s items but paused just short of doing so, looking from them to the flouncy airy-fairy dresses and skirts. The men’s clothes were just normal: comfortable and plain. The girly outfits were made from impractical material in garish colours. Being a man for a while had really allowed me to get an objective view of the woman I used to be. I really had been silly and effeminate. It was embarrassing.

But I was procrastinating again. I gritted my teeth and pulled out garment after garment, making a big pile on the bed. I cleared the wardrobe of every offending item and then struggled downstairs and outside with them to the wheelie bin. I couldn’t open it with the clothes in my arms so I dumped them onto the wet ground, threw back the lid then shoved them in, bodging them down with the rest of the garbage.

And then I realised what I’d done.

It had been the women’s clothes I’d brought down with me – not the men’s. The wheelie bin was full of all the brightly coloured silky outfits I’d owned as a woman.

I gaped down into there, stupidly. I gave a little jerk as though I might pull them out, but I didn’t follow through. The idea of taking clothes out of a dustbin was gross. But without them... Without them I didn’t have anything feminine to wear anymore.

“Hmmm.”

That actually gave me a slight feeling of... relief. Intellectually I knew that this was an influence of staying so long as a male, but the fact was, my feelings were telling me exactly what I wanted... and didn’t want.

It felt like my eyes had been opened – like a mirror had been held up in front of me. I had no intention of becoming a man again – I definitely didn’t want to stay one forever – but I was going to make a change in my life and ways. I’d wasted so much of my life mincing about obsessed with my hair and my clothes, tottering on high heels and spending hours to get ready.

That was going to change right now.

I slammed the lid down on the wheelie bin and marched back inside.

I pulled open the kitchen drawer and took out a pair of scissors then went through to the hall mirror, releasing my hair back down about my shoulders in a mane. I glared at it; at my reflection; then I snatched at it angrily, bunching it into my fist and raised the scissors to it. I held them there, my hand shaking slightly. The hair was gripped loosely at the base of my neck. If I snipped off the ponytail it would fall to about level with my chin.

That wasn’t enough.

I tightened my grip on the hair, sliding it up to the back of my head. That would be better by far. I lifted the scissors again to do it.

But was this really what I wanted? Or was it the ring making me think this way? It had to be the ring; that was obvious; but that made me want to go through with it all the more. Being a man had proven just what a waste of time it was flouncing about being feminine – how much more I could achieve if I dispensed with all of that and just got on with things. I might not want to be a man for the rest of my life but I did want to be more that kind of person.

This had to be done so that if and when these feelings wore off I’d be reminded of the kind of person I was determined to be now.

I snipped at the ponytail. It didn’t go right through on the first snap. Part of it felt free. I kept on working at it, feeling a pent up quiver of near hysteria. The thickest middle section took a while to hack through but I kept going, locks swinging free to the sides of my face. The cut hair cascaded down around my feet. This was a mistake – surely it was a mistake – but I kept going, staring with slightly crazed eyes at myself. Then with one final snip, the last of it fell away.

I lowered my hand and the hair I had left fell round my face, roughly level with my ears, hanging very straight but fanning out at the ends.

I stroked it down, smiling nervously at myself, afraid I’d just made a terrible mistake. It didn’t look too bad, though would need neatening up, obviously. I fingered it, turning my head from side to side.

Then I looked absently toward the kitchen. I looked back at my hair in the mirror. It didn’t look so flouncy but it was still very feminine and would definitely require a long washing and setting process every morning to look right. I was tired of that, I really was.

This wasn’t enough. I had to go further.

And I knew where my mum had kept the clippers she used when she cut my dad’s hair. In the kitchen drawer.

I looked again at my mirror image, touching the sides of my new shorter hair. Then I walked through to the kitchen.

Workman: Chapter Five - Part Nine

Sangeeta remained sagged against the door, her back to me for a long time, caught up in the swirl of her own thoughts. Then she seemed to recall her surroundings and she straightened and turned to face me, her face dark.

The silence continued. I tried another smile, feeling embarrassed to be caught looking like this – as though I were a cross dresser or something. Her expression didn’t cut me any slack. It was beyond just her frustration with Rasheed. Finding me here; a woman; and no Geoff was obviously unsettling for her. It was unsettling for me!

“So you’re Geoff’s... sister?”

“Alison.”

“And you... live here with him?”

I shuffled my feet. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“We’re not... usually here at the same time.”

“What does that mean?”

I took a deep breath. “We seem to have got off on the wrong foot.”

She maintained her stony stare for a moment longer then let it melt away and frowned at herself. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just rattled to come to the door and find...”

“Me.”

“And Rasheed.”

“And no Geoff.”

She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Where is he?”

The ring was in my curled palm in my pocket, faintly warm. “Out... I don’t know where.”

“Oh.” She folded her arms.

She was wearing a pretty Indian-style outfit – not a sari but evocative of that style. My eyes fell down her body then slid back up and I got another little tingle of arousal. She was really gorgeous. I could still almost taste her lips on mine from the night before but realising that disturbed my train of thought. I shouldn’t be thinking that way. It was unnatural.

Though all I had to do to make it natural was to slide the ring onto my finger...

I could pretend I heard the back door – go through to the kitchen to “check” – make the change and tell Sangeeta that “Alison” had gone out for a walk. If that kind of stuff worked for Superman and Lois Lane then it could work for me.

“Do you know when he’s coming back?” she asked. “He wasn’t answering his phone when I tried to call.”

I shrugged, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. This entire situation was stupid. I shouldn’t be playing along with this. I shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of being with this woman again. However enjoyable it was to be a man, I shouldn’t be wanting to do it again. I needed to put in as many blocks as I could to take away any temptation. I couldn’t change again. That was certain.

“Look,” I said. “I’m sorry about this, but Geoff... He told me about you.”

“What did he say?”

I hesitated but made myself continue. “He said that he thought you were nice but that... He didn’t think he could see you again.”

Her eyes widened slightly then they hardened. “Why?”

I put her behind me. “Because...” I didn’t know what to say. Because basically it was a lie. I knew it was wrong and that I couldn’t let it continue but I also really wanted to be with her again. I couldn’t think of a thing I wanted more. She was just so beautiful, and so funny and warm. I wanted to take her in my arms right now but I knew she would push me away in horror.

I had to be strong. It was wrong to continue with what I’d been developing with her. I had to put a final stop to it.

“I’m really sorry to have to tell you, but he said he didn’t want to see you again. He wanted me to tell you if you came round.”

“Where is he? Why doesn’t he tell me this?” Her eyes were moist. It made my heart reach to see it but I didn’t let myself respond.

“He’s out with some friends. He didn’t want to be here if you called.”

Sangeeta glared at me. “I don’t believe you.”

I met her gaze, trying not to flinch. It was horribly cruel but it needed to be said. I knew that now that I was out of that body. I could think clearly. It wasn’t right to let it go on a moment longer, however much I wanted her, even now. “It’s true,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

The tears brewing in her eyes spilled over and she swiped at them almost angrily. “I was going to tell him... Forget it.” She turned to go.

“What is it?” The words came out before I knew enough to stop them.

She looked back at me over her shoulder, hurt and bruised. “Nothing. Just... Something bad happened today. I was hoping... Just forget it.”

She opened the front door.

I stepped after her; only just stopped myself from saying, “Wait!”

She stood framed in the doorway for a minute, her back to me, then without another word she went out and closed it behind her.

Workman: Chapter Five - Part Eight

Sangeeta started talking before the door was even fully open.

“Hi Geoff. I’ve been calling but you must have turned your phone off. I was wondering if...” She stopped when she saw me standing there. “Who are you?” 

I smiled weakly.

“Sangeeta?” Rasheed was half way down the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “What’s going on?” She fixed on me again. “I know you... don’t I?” Her eyes went slightly off-focus then brightened again. “I did your nails. At my shop. Yesterday.”

I started to answer but she cut me off.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Geoff?” She frowned, glancing down at my oversized clothes. “Wait a minute. Where the hell’s Geoff?”

“Er, just hang on a second,” I said. “I can explain everything.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Rasheed, hitting the hall floor.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Sangeeta stepped inside. I looked to the heavens. “Did you follow us back here last night? Is that how you found this place?” She turned to me irritably. “Who are you? Why are you in Geoff’s house, wearing his clothes?”

“She’s his sister,” said Rasheed darkly. “Or she says she is. Claims he isn’t here.”

“I’m Alison,” I said, trying to smile to brighten the mood.

It didn’t work. The atmosphere was grim.

“Why did you come here?” asked Sangeeta to Rasheed.

“To look for you,” he said. “I thought you might be here with your bloody Englishman.”

“Well I wasn’t but I am now.” She looked ta me again. “Where is Geoff?”

I shrugged.

“He’s not in,” said Rasheed. “Why don’t I take you out to dinner instead?”

“No thank you.”

“I was talking to your landlord today; Jasper Konig. Nice man.”

Sangeeta snorted in derision.

“He told me he had someone interested in your flat. A couple. I told him you might be thinking of moving out.  He said he’d be happy to waive the notice period if you want because he can get a higher rent from the couple. I let him show them round. They really liked it.”

“You let people into my flat?”

I stepped back out of the way.

“You let that bastard Konig into my flat?” asked Sangeeta, her voice rising. “Let him show other tenants round?”

Rasheed shrugged. “Your business isn’t do so well. I thought it would be helpful – get you back to London where you’d be happier.”

Sangeeta’s shoulders sagged. She lowered her head. “I’m happy here,” she murmured.

I heard her but Rasheed didn’t. “What?”

“I’m happy here,” she said. “Or I was until you showed up. Who told you that you could stick your nose into my affairs?”

Rasheed backed up a step.

“Why are you even here?” What did you hope to accomplish if Geoff and I were together?”

He stammered but couldn’t form a sensible string of words.

“Get out,” she snapped, pointing to the door. “Now!”

A dread silence fell over the hall. Rasheed glared petulantly back at her then looked to me; back at her. Sangeeta said nothing but she didn’t lower her arm and pointing finger. The moment ran painfully on. I almost spoke up myself to break the tension but I was afraid to and finally Rasheed slunk sullenly over to the front door and opened it. He looked back from the doorway.

“Your father should know about what’s going on here,” he said. “He should know the kinds of things you get up to – what kind of woman you are?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” he said.

Sangeeta flapped her lips, stunned by what she was hearing. I wondered if I should intercede but I didn’t feel it was my place to. “Just get out of here,” she said finally.

“I’m going to call your father,” he said. “Tell him everything.”

“You do that,” snapped Sangeeta and pushed him out of the door, slamming it behind him.

Leaving us alone.

Workman: Chapter Five - Part Seven

Rasheed didn’t look happy at all; but he looked confused – which of course he would. He didn’t know me at all.

“Who are you?” he said sullenly, putting me immediately on the back foot.

“Uh, Alison. Who are... Who are you?”

“I’m Rasheed. Is Sangeeta here?”

All I could do was play dumb. “Who?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who she is. I followed her here last night when she left the pub.” He pushed past me into the hall.

“Hey!”

I went to the lounge doorway and looked inside. “Are you his girlfriend or something?”

“What? No! Hey, you can’t go in there!”

He disappeared into the kitchen but as I started after him he reappeared. “Who are you then?” he said.

I hated the way he was being with me but he was a lot taller and broader than I was in this silly woman’s body – really intimidating. It was abundantly clear that he could do anything he wanted to me and I wouldn’t be able to fight him off if he tried. I’d never felt so aware of my vulnerability in my life. I didn’t want to try standing up to him in case he got angry. I’d never been any good at being assertive and the sudden loss of my masculine attributes made it worse.

“I’m... Geoff’s sister,” I said.

“Well where is he?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Rasheed looked up the stairwell. “Are they upstairs together? I know she spent the night last night.” He started up.

“Wait,” I said. “You can’t just go up there. This is private property.”

He ignored me and went out of sight, leaving me alone in the darkened hall.

I hated the way he was making me feel in my own house. He had no right to be here. I considered calling the police. Then I felt the ring in my pocket and considered my other option. I knew as Geoff I’d be able to see him off easily. I was easily bigger than him as a bloke.

The tromp of his footsteps went over my head in the master bedroom.

I took out the ring and put it over the end of my finger, immediately getting the tingle of first contact.

But if I kept putting it on then where would it end? I might not want to take it off again and each time I wore it I became more and more manly. It might reach the point where I’d never want to take it off again. Though right now that felt like it would be a good thing. It felt weird being a woman and when I was a man again, nobody would be able to ever push me around.

His footsteps went back towards the top of the stairs. It was now or never or else he might catch me half way through the change.

I pushed the ring down to the first joint. My skin crackled, eager for the strength and power to return to my limbs.

I took it off again completely and put it back in my pocket.

I wasn’t going to change. I couldn’t solve all my problems by becoming a man, and I didn’t want it to take over my life. I wasn’t going to change again.

At least for now.

Rasheed started down the first few steps of the staircase then stopped, freezing in the same way I did when the doorbell went again.

“Bloody hell,” I murmured. “Who now?”
 

But I already knew of course. Who else could it be? And how much worse could my night get?

Workman: Chapter Five - Part Six

It felt very wrong.

My smooth, hairless arms, my soft fleshy body, my wide hips and round ass, the absurd bulges on my chest: I knew that this was who I’d been my whole life; who I was meant to be; but it still felt weird as hell. All the muscle definition was gone from my upper arms. My broad chest and shoulders had deflated into this tiny feminine frame.

I touched my face, looking at myself in the mirror, faintly repulsed by what I was seeing. I mean I was a good looking woman – it was a nice face and figure to look at, but it felt very weird to think I was inside there. I’d grown so used to being a man.

I missed my goatee. It had really improved my face. Now I just had smooth pale skin. It was odd. I looked so little and fragile.

I was still wearing the faun trousers, the v-necked T-shirt and trainers. My hair was tied back tightly and I wasn’t wearing make-up. This was all good. Girly clothes would have been far too much. Seeing the clothes made me realise how long I’d stayed a man. Except for the brief change back in the men’s room at the pub it had been twenty four hours. That was kind of staggering. But I still couldn’t see anything bad. Aside from a slight discomfort about being back in this soft puny body it had just been a good opportunity. There was no reason not to change back and forth as often as I liked.

Though it had been more gruelling to change back. Turning into a man last time had been relatively painless. Becoming a woman had been the opposite of that: really quite unpleasant.

I went upstairs and stripped off, dumping my clothes on the floor, then turned on the shower.

I looked over my body front and back in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. I was really sexy – there were no two ways about that – but it still felt weird to actually look like this myself. As a woman I was shapely rather than stick thin but not fat. I could get a couple of fingers full of flesh at my waist and I turned my nose up at it. I missed my muscles.

It crossed my mind to go and fetch the ring; change back into a man: not to go out or do anything special but just to relax as. I had no plan to stay that way at all but it seemed harmless to change back for another few hours.

But I was being silly. I was a woman. I’d been born a woman. This was who I was meant to be. I was already worried the change was affecting me too much. This was just a further example. It wasn’t right that I shouldn’t feel comfortable in my own skin. I had to ride it out. The oddity of it would wear off in time, surely.

I untied my hair. It flopped into a pool on my shoulders leaving absolutely no doubt as to my sexual identity (if my naked form wasn’t enough). I gathered it up into a fist and held it in front of my face. I wondered if I should maybe make an appointment at the hairdresser for the next day. I fancied a more cropped style; maybe a pixie cut, something not so flouncy.

I decided to call first thing in the morning. It was too late now.

Smiling mischievously I lifted and pushed my boobs together, like the way the cleavage looked. The sight of it as well as the sensations of hands round my breasts gave me a pleasant tingle in my nether regions.

I chuckled and shook my head then climbed into the shower.

After I’d got clean I came out and went back through to the bedroom with a towel round my waist, cursing my awful long hair and how wet it was.

The wardrobe still had a mix of men and women’s clothes. I ran my fingers down the sleeves of one of the men’s suits wistfully the looked for something to put on. I felt uncomfortable enough in this body. The last thing I wanted was to put on some flouncy revealing outfit. In the end I took some tracksuit bottoms and a chequered shirt from the Geoff side of the wardrobe. They’d be far better to relax in than something girly.

I tied my hair up again, imagining again what I’d look like with it cut short. I ran my fingers over my chin, missing my goatee, then wandered downstairs. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and went through to the lounge, swigging it out of the can. Half way down the can I stopped drinking and gave a loud belch. That hit the spot.

The doorbell rang as I went to sit down, a car magazine in my hand.

I went through to answer it but paused in the hallway when I saw the ring on the table. I went over and took it up, wondering if I should put it on, then instead, slipped it into my pocket and opened the door.

And looked right up into the face of Rasheed.

Workman: Chapter Five - Part Five

I drove up onto the drive of my house in my new van with a big grin on my face. This was what I was talking about!

It had a big throaty diesel engine and loads of space front and back. It had driven a lot of miles but it was still running fine and I figured I could give it a good tune up anyway. It was blue and just about the opposite of my old girly car in every single way. This was a proper man’s vehicle, this was – just my kind of thing. And it had more than enough space to get me started in my new business enterprise. In six months or a year, when my income was stable, I could upgrade it to a newer model but for now it was perfect.

I enjoyed the rattling vibration when I turned off the ignition then climbed out.

John came out his front door and called across. “I thought that was you. Not bad.”

I gave him the tour.

“This is more your style.”

I laughed. “Tell me about it. I felt like a right prat tootling around in that other dinky thing.”

“You going down the Hunter’s Moon later?”

I thought of Sangeeta and toyed with it then said, “Nah. I’m behind on things in the house and some bastard keeps setting me up with other jobs to do.”

John chuckled. “Now who could that be?”

“Some tosser. I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Right, well I’ll see you around.” John turned to go. “Good luck with the house; and nice choice on the van. People were starting to talk. Not me, you understand; but people.”

I shook my head to myself with a smile then went inside. I hadn’t known him for long but he was a good mate. I liked him.

I checked the post and then gave myself a quick look in the mirror, feeling my goatee. It looked good: really suited me. I was glad Sangeeta had done it. It actually looked bushier than it probably should have done, as though the magic of the ring had accelerated the growth a little, making it fill in a bit faster than normal. I didn’t mind. I liked the way it made me look.

Then I paused, frowning. I looked into my eyes then down the length of my body. I raised my hands to look at them; turned them over. I glanced in the direction of the van on the drive.

This was going too far.

It was going far too far and far too fast.

It was taking over my life!

I wasn’t meant to be a man. I was a woman! It was all becoming too comfortable and easy. I wasn’t meant to stay a man for anything other than doing my parents’ house up. I shouldn’t be out socialising as a bloke and snogging girls. I shouldn’t be accepting work and planning an ongoing business that would necessitate me staying this way! Now that the momentum had died I couldn’t believe I’d traded in my car of all things – made a permanent decision that affected something so big and expensive as that. What was I going to do with a van like that as a woman?

This was totally messed up and it had to end now!

I snatched at the ring and pulled.

There was that initial resistance like always then it shifted. I looked at myself in the mirror. The man’s body and face looking back at me didn’t jar in the least. I wondered if I was doing the right thing. Was there really a sense of urgency? Did it matter if I stayed this way?

If I remained Geoff for another night then I could meet up with Sangeeta again, maybe have a repeat of the night before. I got a charge of sexual tension just to think about it.

I knew I ought to take the ring off, at least for a while, to get some perspective, but I equally felt the urge to resist that. What did it matter what sex I was as long as I was having a good time and keeping afloat? Maybe I should keep the ring on for now. Just for one more night...

I pulled it off in one hard yank. Before I really did change my mind.

Immediately I felt a thump in my stomach like being hit with a basketball. I groaned, instantly regretting taking the thing off; wanting to put it right back on. Instead I smacked it down on the hall table.

The first flash came at that moment along with a nauseating wave of weakness in all my limbs and an unpleasant sense of contraction. There was an awful wrench in my crotch, a vacuum accompanied by a pitch in my spirits at the loss of something down there I’d got so used to I’d forgotten about it. Its sudden absence was alarming and unpleasant.

The second flash dazzled me but when my eyes cleared I realised I’d shrunk almost a foot in height. It was weird and unpleasant. I didn’t like it at all. I staggered against the wall, reaching for support, then the third and final flash flickered over me and there were suddenly these two big fleshy orbs hanging off my chest that felt totally out of place.

I was a woman again, but it only felt wrong.

Workman: Chapter Five - Part Four

On the way home in the car I whistled to myself, tapping the beat out on the steering wheel, thinking about my decision to accept the job.

I was pretty happy with it – surprisingly happy. If I was short of readies and had the ability then why shouldn’t I turn it into a little earner? If I stuck an advert in the paper and got in the Yellow Pages I might really start to make some cash; could really build a business. Longer term I could even expand; maybe hire some other blokes and do some contracting. With these skills that I’d suddenly got there was no reason to hold back.

It was astounding that the effect of the ring I was wearing could go on affecting this kind of changes. I wondered what would have happened if I’d told people I was a doctor – a brain surgeon – would that have come true as well? Though that didn’t feel right.

I wondered actually if the ring wasn’t magical in the way I’d assumed. Maybe it wasn’t a gender-changing ring. Maybe it just granted my desire for a handy man by turning me into one. Perhaps the stone itself was magical somehow and responded to a person’s wishes like that.

I really had no idea; not for definite.

But I had clearly made myself into a real Jack-of-all-trades just by saying it. I knew how to plaster obviously; but now I also knew how to fit and maintain central heating systems. I had a feeling... Yes. I had a feeling that if I opened my wallet I would find a Gas Safe registration card made out under my new name with a photograph and everything.

I didn’t think I could go on doing it forever. I didn’t know why but I could feel that. And I hadn’t really changed anything with what I’d told John and Steve. I’d just filled in the detail.

I wondered if I could take it further now. I decided to try it.

I indicated and made a right turn.

“I’ve been running a successful business for years as a workman,” I said. “I’ve got a great head for business. I’m great at marketing myself and doing all the back-office paperwork.”

I paused, cocking my head; wondering if that was sinking in too.

The effect was so subtle it was difficult to know but I felt that I was. I was actually becoming a confident businessman, fully capable of starting up the new business that John had suggested. It was really exciting! I was going to have my own business – and a successful one this time! It was going to be so good to build a proper sensible career rather than the airy fairy one I’d been trying to do as Alison. This was sensible and I had the skills to back it up now. I was fully confident it was going to take off.

Up ahead, some bright lights caught my eye and I flicked on the indicator.

I pulled onto the forecourt of the car showroom and stopped in a space.

One of the sales staff was outside fiddling with a price label on one of the cars. I gave him a wave as I climbed out of my Nancy-mobile and walked over.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “How may I help you today?”

I pointed back to the embarrassingly feminine car. “I’m thinking of trading that in. I’m looking for a good deal on a van. I don’t need any frills. Just something big on volume and comfortable. If I can take it away today then all the better.”

“You’ve come to the right place sir,” said the man. “We have an excellent range of new and second hand trade vehicles. Let me show you.”

I gestured with an open hand. “Lead the way.”

He took me round the back and showed me what they had. It was a good broad range. I had a mooch round, examining the features and checking the rear interiors. If I was really going to make a go off this business then I’d need space for tools and materials. Central heating would require me to transport radiators and boilers but I didn’t want to limit myself to that. I needed space for a ladder for external building and decorating work. My mind was chuntering along, thinking of all the possibilities.

I was going to need a small business loan from the bank to get things started. They’d be closed now but I’d pop in Monday morning and get that set up for definite – really start to push hard on getting this set up.

I found just the right van to get me started. It had a few years on the clock and managed to talk the guy into a straight swap after a bit of cajoling. I got him talking about the rugby and that did it.

We went inside to do the paperwork.

Workman: Chapter Five - Part Three

Playing rugby was awesome.

After watching it with the other blokes the night before it was great fun to be part of the action and it was really gloriously violent!

As a girl; as Alison; I’d played a bit of badminton; some netball at school; nothing like this! And when I had played sport I’d always hung around like a wet blanket rather than getting really stuck in.

I ran up the park, yelling for a pass, diving into tackles like I had no fear of anything. It was amazing! The other blokes were a right laugh, pissing about half the time but also really going for it.

I stopped at the edge of the pitch we’d marked out to catch my breath and watched the rest of them running back and forth, then I dove back in, hurling myself round the legs of the guy on the other team who had the ball. He fell flat on his face and let go of it and John hooked it up and ran the rest of the way to the goal line.

The bloke I’d dropped rolled over cursing and laughing and I helped him up, offering my hand to shake. “No hard feelings?”

“Course not,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to risk another one of those tackles.”

We chuckled and went on playing.

When we finally broke John cracked open a box of beers from the boot of his car and handed them round (to a cheer).

I was really thirsty so I chugged mine back pretty fast while we chatted about the game and the match on TV the night before. It was totally different from the kind of conversations I normally had – unrestrained. Girl talk was unrestrained at times – it wasn’t that – but this was something else. There was an alternative camaraderie here that didn’t show up in groups of women. It was rawer. Primal maybe. But good.

“John was telling me you do plastering.” It was the bloke I’d tackled; Steve.

I nodded.

“What else do you do?”

I took a swig of beer, thinking again about the way I’d made myself a plasterer by telling John that I was. Was that really how it worked? Could I do the same again? What if I really went for it?

“You name it,” I said, running everything of that ilk that I could think of through my head and out onto my tongue. “Brick laying, painting and decorating, electrics, gas, central heating, plumbing; most everything.”

I drank some more beer and as I did I could almost feel the knowledge of those things settling into my head, like I was really determining the kind of man I was by saying it. But I wasn’t just giving myself skills and knowledge. I had the feeling it went a lot deeper than that. I suspected I was actually altering who I was in terms of personality and desires. I wasn’t just learning how to do the work, I was actually becoming a workman and taking on the character traits of a man who would choose and excel at that career.

“Do you have your own business?”

I shrugged. “Only moved here recently.” I glanced at John.

“Well if he can do everything else as well as he did my plastering then he’ll make a mint round here with all the old houses,” he said. “You should set up a business and get some money in.”

I tipped my can at him and nodded.

“Well I’ve got a gas boiler that needs looking at,” said Steve. “If you’re looking for work then I could use you; if you as good as John reckons.”

I considered it.

“You should take him up on the offer,” said John. “You’ll get cash rolling in. You’ll be able to do your own house up at leisure.”

“I don’t know...” I said. “I wasn’t planning...”

“To what? Help out your neighbours and earn lots of cash? You need a business manager mate,” said John. “He’ll take the job,” he told Steve. “When do you want it done?”

Steve shrugged. “Soon as.”

“Tomorrow?” said John.

“Hey wait a minute,” I said.

They both chuckled. “Wait for what?” asked John. “You’re doing it.”

I was tempted... It would be money coming in and if I could get a steady string of work then I could really turn things round. It didn’t mean I was choosing to stay a man for the rest of my life but I could change each day to earn the cash then swap back in the evenings – no harm, no foul.

I shrugged. “What the hell,” I said. “I’m in. How’s tomorrow afternoon for you?”

“Sounds perfect,” said Steve.

“There,” said John. “I’ve just solved all your problems for you.”

Workman: Chapter Five - Part Two

It turned out that plastering was indeed a snap.

John’s wife, Debbie, was in waiting for me when I crossed the road. John was at work but hoped to have the afternoon off. Debbie and I made a run to the DIY shop for supplies, chatting amiably and flirting just a tiny bit – all in good fun.

When we got back she helped me clear the furniture and I spread out enough plastic sheeting to protect the carpet. Debbie watched for a while then left me to it.

I mixed up the plaster until it was just the right consistency, amazing myself that I knew what that was. I had never gone within thirty yards of a plastering job but how to do it just came into my mind as though I was an expert.

I scraped a trowel full of plaster off the mixing board and onto my hawk then started at the foot of the wall, working it into position, keeping the hawk angled just so but narrowing the gap between it and the wall as I reached the zenith. I kept repeating this, building up the base coat, not worrying for now about uneven areas, confident I’d get them on the second run.

While I was waiting for the plaster to harden just enough for the smoothing process I worked on the edges of the wall with a wet paintbrush to clean up little accidents where I’d nudge a little out of the area.

Debbie brought me in a cup of tea. “Thirsty?”

“You’re a mind reader.” I took a sip, winced, then took another. “Perfect. Thanks luv.”

She talked to me for ten minutes or so then left me to it.

I got my towel and worked at smoothing out the plaster, using a very shallow angle to get it as smooth as possible. There were a couple of uneven sections but that wasn’t a problem. I used a bit more plaster to even those out.

When I was done with that, Debbie appeared again with a plateful of ham sandwiches and some crisps.

“Perfect,” I said with a grin, taking the offered can of Coke. We chatted again as I tucked in. I polished off what she’d made for me then chomped on the others she brought through to slake my appetite.

John turned up as I was working on the drying and polishing. He watched as I wet the face of my trowel and then flicked water onto the wall with a wet paintbrush. It was tricky to judge just so. The idea was to get just enough lubrication so that the trowel would float over the surface, filling any imperfections.

I worked with long sweeping strokes, making sure it was as smooth as I could get it. It didn’t take too long. When I was done, John and Debbie gave me a clap.

I grinned and bowed then we all stood looking at it, arms folded.

“Nice work,” said John.

“Thanks.”

“I didn’t realise you were a master decorator.”

I shrugged. “Neither did I.”

He chuckled as though I were really joking.

I started cleaning up and John helped me. I gave him a couple of tips about drying time, amazing myself again at how deeply this vein of knowledge went. He took out the cash we’d agreed on and I tucked it into my shirt breast pocket. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“A few mates are getting together later to play some rugby if you’re interested,” said John.

I thought about changing back – it was getting to be an awful long time that I’d stayed like this – but there wasn’t much urgency to the thought. I didn’t want to fall behind on my own house either and I knew what would happen if I turned back into a woman...

Not a lot.

I could spend the afternoon as a man doing up the house then play rugby. Why not?

“Sure,” I said. “Sounds like a good idea. What the heck?”

He told me the plan and we shook hands. “You’ve done a first class job. Thanks. Really top notch.”

I grinned feeling surprisingly proud of my endeavours, then bid him goodbye and walked back across the road.

My car was sitting in the drive, looking stupidly feminine. I gave it a little sneer and went back in my house to get back to work.

Workman: Chapter Five - Part One

Workman

1

The oddest thing was that when I woke up there was no “bloody hell” moment.

I didn’t jerk upright, gaping down at my manly body in incredulity, instantly regretting what had happened, asking myself how I could have let it happen in the first place. I just opened my eyes and smiled contentedly and stretched. It didn’t even occur to me there was anything funny about my situation at first. When it did I just thought to myself, oh, I’m still a man. I didn’t have a shock reaction. And why would I really? Fifty percent of the population were men. It was a perfectly ordinary state for them. Why should I have a panic attack about it?

I’d slept really deeply; far deeper than I was used to. I’d been a light sleeper my whole life. I felt refreshed in a way I didn’t normally. I chuckled. Maybe I should always sleep like this and change back in the morning.

The bed was empty next to me. I pushed my hair back off my forehead and scratched my crown, then swung my legs off the bed. There was a note over on the drawers in a pretty, flowing, feminine script.

 

Hey Big Boy,

 

Had a really good time last night. It’s lovely to meet a good old-fashioned man. And even lovelier to shag him!

 

Sneaking out cause I have to meet the manager of Tower Gates this morning and I don’t have my uniform. You look almost as cute asleep as you do awake!

Give me a call.

Sangeeta

  xxJxx

 

She’d written her mobile number at the bottom. I reread the first paragraph then laid it back down, smiling to myself.

I went through to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror over the sink, stroking my cheek and smoothing down my new goatee beard. I hadn’t had a proper look at it until now. It looked good and suited me.

The restful night had done wonders for my state of mind. I didn’t feel jittery at all anymore about being a man. It continued to feel comfortable and normal.

I checked the time. There was only an hour before I was meant to be next door doing that plastering. I took hold of the ring, wondering if I should take it off for a bit. I turned it on my finger then let it go. There wasn’t any point really. I might as well stay as I was for now.

I opened the bathroom cabinet and frowned.

“That’s weird.”

It was full of stuff – more full than it had been – and a lot of it was guy’s stuff: shaving things; hair wax; a beard trimmer. I half closed it, keeping my hand on the door, looking back into the bedroom, then I went back through.

The wardrobe had changed too. A lot of my womanly clothes were in there still but intermingled with them were men’s things: shirts, trousers, sweaters, jeans. There were men’s shoes and trainers in the bottom laid neatly beside the haphazard pile of ladies’ shoes I owned.

I stoked my beard, looking at it, then got dressed in jeans and a T shirt and jogged downstairs. There was still unopened mail on the table in the hall. I picked up and flicked through the letters making a subtle nod when I saw what I was expecting.

There were letters addressed to me – Geoff – alongside letters addressed to my other self as Alison. The shift in reality that had created the ID card had gone a notch further. It had happened the night before I realised. I just hadn’t noticed at the time. The hair cream I’d used... It hadn’t been my dad’s at all. It belonged to me as Geoff.

I took another look at the ring.

It really was incredible.

I wondered again if I should take it off and chuck it away. But I’d passed that decision by. There was no point. I was going to get the house ready ten times faster as a bloke and that was on top of bringing in some proper money for a change doing this plastering across the road. And I’d had an excellent time with Sangeeta the night before. As far as I was concerned I was going to go on using this ring on and off from now on.

It was all good!

Lady Ann's Holiday: Chapter Thirty Three - Part Eight

8 

Feeling rather cowed by his run-in with Lord Hurley, Burt spent the rest of the day working hard, basically slipping into the easy path his “upbringing” had drummed into him.

He was made to carry more produce into the village but relished the chance to get away. He found it stressful feeling at any moment that he might run into Lady Ann. He really didn’t know where he stood or what to expect. Avoiding the situation entirely was better.

When he got back, Harry had him restacking the contents of one of the barns. It was filthy and gruelling labour but simple enough and that was what Burt liked. He hated being given tasks that taxed his brain. It was the simpler, the better as far as he was concerned.

While he worked he reflected on how far he had come for the first time properly since his release from gaol.

First had come the transformation itself, followed by his slow descent into lowborn ways as he revelled in pushing the changes further and further. Then had come the realisation that he was trapped, at least temporarily, and the continuing panic-stricken plunge into true stupidity and servility.

Afraid his head might split from the pressure, he’d taken the gypsy’s potion, letting his soul become a perfect match for his body, and for a time he had forgotten who he used to be in peaceful contentment with his lot in life.

He wondered now if he wouldn’t have been happier if he’d just remained like that, but instead, in a brief period of restored lucidity he had got to the pendant and locked his memories in place: almost entirely Burt in thought and deed but retaining the knowledge of who he used to be.

Now, with the vow he’d made to the Earl and to himself – to cease fighting against his destiny and accept it wholeheartedly – he was more Burt than ever… more himself.

It wasn’t just the way he looked, or the way he thought or acted. It was who he was and… to a great extent… who he wanted to be.

He came out of the barn feeling more confused than before he went in and stopped dead when he saw two figures walking away from the hall: Lady Ann and Lord Hurley.

Burt stepped back into the doorway, peeping round the frame so that he could spy on their movement.

Lord Hurley’s arm was crooked and Lady Ann rested her hand through the loop he made as they walked, chatted and laughed.

They passed out of his view and Burt slipped out of the barn and followed after, keeping them just in sight.

They looked like a couple deeply in love and realising that made Burt shudder with bewilderment and jealousy. Part of him resented his poverty and this woman who had stolen his wealth and the rich suitor who pursued him, but the greater part wanted to simply be that suitor. He wished he could take Lady Ann’s arm and guide her down the path. He wished he could hold her in his arms and kiss her.

But he couldn’t. It was clear that she cared for Lord Hurley now. What chance could he have against that competition? And further, it seemed she was in no hurry to change back with him. Surely if she were she could have sought him out by now.

Or was she merely trapped in the social round? Perhaps she truly couldn’t get away.

Feeling guilty, Burt wandered back to the stable.

Jeb told him that Harry had already gone home to check on his wife and let him off for the evening.

“Thank you sir,” said Burt, bobbing his head then feeling wretched that Jeb used to be his friend and equal.

He walked round to the stairs up to his hay loft.

He had to seek out lady Ann as soon as he could and give her the opportunity to swap back. That was all there was to it.

But when he entered the hay loft he found Mavis already ensconced, waiting for him, naked.

“Eh up lad,” she said, smirking lasciviously, lying back on his pallet, her legs spread, all her feminine assets on display. “I thought you’d never get ere.”

Burt looked from her face to her tits to her exposed minge and the thick rod in his trousers swelled painfully quickly.

“Chuffin eck Mavis,” he said.

Suddenly all thought of magical transformations vanished from his mind and even thoughts of Lady Ann. The sensations of pleasure spread outward in a widening circle from his crotch.

“Get over ere and gimme a sight o that cock o yours,” said Mavis playfully. “I been thinkin about getting it in me all day. I was afraid to come and see ye after the Earl took you away from the village but I’m so happy you didn’t have to go away.”

Burt grinned, guilty he hadn’t sought Mavis out last night in his weariness – that he’d been obsessing over his own affairs all day long instead of putting his mind to what really mattered – pleasuring his lass.

He hurriedly climbed out of his clothes and eagerly climbed on top of her on the pallet, his naked form pressing up against hers as he wrapped her in his arms and they pressed their lips together.

It felt so good to do it and there was suddenly no space left in his mind to consider giving any of this up.