Forty-five years old. And already an empty nester. Start early with kids, they said. And now both are off to college. But there is a good side of this as well. We never really liked living here in the North, with tough winters. But we didn't want to change their school, so we hung around.

But now, with kids gone, my wife and I both working from home, we can move. South. No more nasty winters!

I'm a web developer, and my company closed all buildings during covid, and everybody is working out of their home. Relaxed, and way more efficient than we ever were.

My wife runs her own webshop, and she can do that from anywhere, as long as we have enough storage space. So, early September, we both get on a plane and fly south, towards the coast.

We have always had similar tastes, and we both want close to the coast, perhaps an island, but not right on the beach, and having to deal with flooding and stuff during hurricanes. There are a few areas we want to check out, she will do a few and so will I, and then together we check our two favorites.

She's taking the rental car to some more rural places, and I use an Uber to check out a few busier neighborhoods. We're texting a lot, exchanging many pictures.

On the second day it looks like my wife has hit the jackpot. She's called me multiple times already, in awe of this gem of a neighborhood she has found, away from all congestion, but with all amenities in the gated community. But, most importantly, she has an eye on a house that's available.

As my own experiences are far from successful, we decide to meet for lunch, and then we drive together back to Amazonia, as the neighborhood is called.

Obviously, after more than twenty years of marriage, I know my wife quite well, and her face is flushed with excitement. We came here to determine the best area to settle, but we never expected to find an opportunity to buy. Just seeing her so excited gets my own blood flowing as well. I know she has good taste.

The area is nice, far from any main road, fifteen miles from the ocean, but very close to a large lake, with white sand beaches. This is a paradise by itself, and nobody knows about it. My mind keeps wandering… What's the catch?

Well, we soon found out. It's a women-only community, and I am not allowed in. Unless…

Unless I dress as a woman. No, not just dressing, live as a woman. Buying or renting any part in this neighborhood has the same clause. Must be female. But, as the nice lady at the gate entrance explains, there is a grace period. Any man, as long as he is accompanied by a female spouse, is allowed to live here for the first year, though dressed as a woman, living as a woman, with the manhood safely locked away. After the first year, he must officially give up on his manhood, both legally and physically, or both partners will have to leave. That's why there is a home for sale right now. At a very attractive price.

Why would any man want to do that, I wonder out loud. Oh, it was easy, the lady, Gemma, replies. Living here is like a dream. A permanent vacation. Safe. And no nasty politics. I look confused at her. What do you mean, it was easy? It means, she replies, that I was once in your position, wanting to settle here with my wife.

I won't say I'm a man of the world, that I have seen it all. But I've traveled a lot, and I know a thing or two. And I'm pretty sure I'd recognize a man in a dress. Gemma smiles, as she picks up on my comments, and apparently I gave her a wonderful compliment.

My wife, Sunny, looks disappointed. They hadn't told her this when she was here earlier. And she saw her dream evaporating. Unless…

Too many “unlesses”? But I know her well. And I saw the light in her eyes change. An idea forming. And I have the feeling it's not gonna be good for me.

Honey, she starts, remember the one time we dressed as twins for Halloween? We had a lot of fun, and you didn't seem to mind dressing in my clothes.

So there you have it. She's already giving up on my manhood. I know our sex life has been so-so, raising two kids does that to you. Especially if you're trying to prevent to get a third, with her having bad reactions to the pill, and both of us hating condoms. More than once I have suggested I get snipped down there, but she never wanted that, just in case we did want a third child at some point. So, sex means pulling out in time, and counting the days from when her period starts. Which is very irregular by the way, not adding to a healthy sex life.

Honey, I say, trying to defuse the situation, why don't we first just check out the house and the neighborhood. Making sure it's up to our standards, before we completely overturn our lifestyle. And only if we have dotted all our t’s and crossed all our i's, will we talk about you sleeping with another woman.

I saw her smile about my always successful little joke, as I intended, while putting in her face right what she was up to. It was Gemma who took control now. Why don't Sunny and Harriet, my wife, take a look in and around the house, while I take care of Jeff here. We'll meet at the coffee shop in an hour, and then we'll all check it out.

I rather keep Sunny around, to make sure I don't mess up with this dress-up thing. But, there she's leaving already with another very attractive lady, giving me a vague wave.

So Jeff, Gemma starts, how serious do you think the two of you are on this? I don't know about myself, I answer, but I know Sunny is serious. I haven't seen her so excited since our daughter played a solo in the marching band. I just don't think she realizes the consequences. But, with that gorgeous lake so close by, this whole place is a gem.

She smiles. Glad you see so easily why I picked my name. I was in your situation about ten years ago, and I never regretted losing my manhood. Do you know for example that none of the homes here have a lock on the door? Neighbors walk freely into our homes, and expect us to do the same. The fences around our community are high and secure, so we all feel safe in our homes and on the streets. All cars are to be parked on a lot around the corner here, and we either walk or take a free golf cart to our homes. Plenty of homes have pools, and they are free to use for everyone. Yes, some people are better off than others, here as well, but there is a common acceptance of sharing here, and because of that it's never abused.

No locks? I ask. No stealing? Are there no Karen's here? Or people that feel themselves better than others?

I know right, she laughs. But that's why everybody in the street gets a vote in accepting new neighbors. Before you could even buy the house, people will want to make sure you fit in. We do background checks and all. Which brings me to an important thing. How do you want to look, when we go out there? People will notice. Measure you up. Specifically you, because I can tell you already, Sunny fits right in.

You mean… I could mess it up for her, if they feel I wouldn't fit in? I wouldn't want that. What do I need to do to fit in?

Well, for one, you must want to fit in. Show that you can be a woman, that you want to be one even. For example, sometimes people have family over. Any male, man or boy, must wear a dress and a wig, and their manhood locked up. We have special cages for that. That goes for you as well. But, with some effort, with some makeup, your body hair shaven, a nice pair of breasts, a corset, heels, stockings, people will see you already try to fit in. No cage for you, but a special body suit that will make you appear female down there already. Those are the kind of things that will score you points.

And when you leave? Leave as the woman you are, even though it's temporary. Be a woman for the night as well, and come back tomorrow in your new form. Those are things that people will notice and appreciate. So Jeff, what will it be? A wig and dress and a cock cage? Or a female bodysuit for the next couple of days, with the chance you get accepted as the newest members in our neighborhood?

Wait! For a few days as a woman you mean? In a dress? In heels? With breasts? How could I manage that?

Well, she replied, if you put it like that, I doubt you could pull it off for a year, or for the rest of your life. Maybe we're just wasting our time here. And as she got up, I realized I had failed the first test already. Sunny’s going to kill me…

Okay! I say it quickly. Okay, I will do it. All the way. But will you please help me? Or I'll never pull this off.

As she sits down again, I release my breath in relief. She's going to make a woman out of me.

First things first. As you're going to be a woman, you will need a female name. Pick the right one and stick to it. Make it yours. Make it you…

That sounded so easy. But it wasn't. Who did I want to be? When we were twins for Halloween, I was Funny. Sunny and Funny. But it's not a real name. How about Moonny? It just sounds weird. My mind went back to girl names in our kids classes and friends. Nothing popped in my mind that would fit me. And suddenly it hit me. From a set of books that I read for my kids as they grew up. There was a Mooney in there, but that wasn't a girl's name. But one of the girls in the book was Luna. And it is perfect. Sunny and Luna.

Gemma loves it, as she saw it slowly form in my mind. I will be Luna, and she will make me Luna. With just my underwear on, she's taking some measurements, then she hands me a bottle of oil. I rub it all over my body, including my face, and she helps me in the places I can't reach. For the last part I have to take my boxers down, and while she's getting “something” I oil all around my privates.

It takes about five minutes, as my skin starts heating up, before she tells me to get in the shower, and wash all the stuff off. It leaves me literally hairless. Why have I never known this? Why have I wasted so much time shaving my face all these years, as there was a simple oil to make it smooth as a baby?

As I get out of the shower she wants me to step, all wet, in some sort of pants, shorts I guess as she pulls them up towards my hips. She points out to slide my manhood in some sleeve, then she pulls up the “suit” higher. It is tight, but not impossible. She clips a tiny metal cap onto my nipples, and before I can ask why, she has me push my arms through some holes, as eventually the suit is pulled over my shoulders.

Breasts are hanging from the front of the suit, and she has some room to move them around, until what must be a magnet clicks onto my nipple caps. It answers why the caps are needed and it causes the breasts to be in perfect position, as she puts some pressure on them. Then I can feel the whole bodysuit tightening on me.

That's why you had to be wet, she explains, it triggers the crimping process. The pressure seems to be the strongest around my waist and I start having trouble breathing. She tells me to relax and not fight it, as I will get used to it. She is right, but it takes five, maybe ten minutes, before it seems like the crimping has come to an end.

As she guides me to a full-size mirror, I see the unbelievable change to my body. My slight belly is replaced by a narrow waist that is offsetted by a pair of breasts, nothing large, and wide hips and clearly some meat on my buttocks. There's no hint of my manhood, but a hairless pussy stands proudly out. It is six inches deep, she explains, but all artificial, and it won't give me any pleasure. I couldn't care less.

She shows me a small bottle with another oil in it. To take the suit off again I will have to take a hot bath, with the full content dissolved in the water. Then, after about fifteen minutes I should feel the suit loosen up, enough to take it off. If I then let it hang-dry for about four hours, I can use it again in the same way. Just make sure to get hairless first again or it will become very uncomfortable.

It almost feels like science fiction, never have I heard about this before, but she says it's pretty common for crossdressers and transgenders, and even cosplayers. We have to hurry though, because although I technically now qualify to enter Amazonia, it will be better with clothes on, plus some makeup, and a wig. Again, I let her do her magic.

I'm in awe as I see her transform me. I'm actually happy with the bra, as it relieves the unfamiliar weight of my breasts a bit. The matching panties are nice. But the nylon stockings and what she calls a petticoat are totally alien, until she puts a summer dress on me. The skirt has some volume thanks to the underskirt, and gives my body an even more female shape.

As she sits me down to add my wig and do my face with makeup, she explains that if we were to be accepted in the community, this would be my type of dress style for the first year. The classic housewife look she calls it. Long hair, perfect makeup, always a dress, with stockings and at least two inches of heels. No exceptions, even while I'm outside the community, except during mandatory yoga class, during which I must wear yoga pants and top. Also, at the beach or at someone's pool, I can switch into a one-piece bathing suit, as long as I come and go in my dress.

There is also a mandatory cooking class and childcare class, during which I will wear aprons to protect my dresses. Only after that first year am I allowed to fully commit to womanhood, through a surgery by an Amazonia certified doctor, which should happen within six months, although most men choose to get their own breasts during the first year.

Once I'm physically considered a woman as well, I can make my own wardrobe choices, although the expectation for all women is female attire in public at all times, to maintain the ultimate female community of Amazonia. Violations are recorded and too many can lead to being expelled from the community. That has thus far not happened, except for transforming men in their first year. Hence the home that is now available for sale.

As I'm trying to wrap my mind around what is likely in store for me, Gemma’s quick fingers take the last bit of my masculinity away, and I have to say, I actually do look pretty. That at least takes a weight off my shoulders, as I was worried I'd look like a guy in drag. But would I be able to maintain this look myself? Gemma says not to worry, there is a class for that as well, though not mandatory.

The hardest of all this are actually the shoes. None of the choices she has available feel comfortable, until I try a pair with an extra inch. Don't get me wrong, walking in them is probably harder in three inches, but my feet are not in pain at least. We'll see how long I can manage them.