Sitting in the car outside the Italian restaurant was all I could think of doing, Harry reasons to himself.  His two-seater BMW looked perfect in the cool fall air.  He had just washed it that day, and was quite pleased with how it turned out.  The whole time, he kept telling himself that this would work.  Backstory time…

Two years ago, Harry had started looking at different pics on an ASFR site.  He really enjoyed it, and had met a few “friends.”  But in a group forum chat, he typed something that was misinterpreted, and they all thought he was a she.  He played it off, and hoped it would be dropped.  He should have just said something then, but he did not want to jeopardize his new friendships.  Well, it did not go away.

That next day, PixFlix emailed him about doing some roleplay.  He thought it would be fun and agreed.  He seemed nice and so Harry played the girl parts while Pix played the guy parts.  Everything went fine, until about 6 months ago, when a roleplay went too far and Pix did more than just pose or freeze him.  Harry thought he would feel “dirty” from it, but really it was okay.  He was not himself online, he was Free-Z.  He did not make a scene, once again hoping it would die out.  Of course, it did not, and Pix and Free-Z are now a “couple.”  

Unable to carry this on anymore, Harry decide to confront Pix.  As it turns out, they both live pretty close to each other.  So, Harry suggested a meeting.  At first, Pix was hesitant, but when Free-Z insisted, then Pix agreed.  It seemed like such a good idea, Harry thinks again, but now that he is in the car, dressed like a guy (because he is one), needing to go inside and tell his “online partner” that he is not a she, which will probably ruin two years of RP fun, the whole scenario seems really, really stupid.

On a whim, he had paid and downloaded an app that he thought might help.  It was a last resort thing, in case he got cold feet.  It is called: “Hello, it’s not me.”  The app uses the phone’s battery and ability to transmit information to make a temporary physical change in a person.  He had to pay more than usual for an app, but he wanted to be sure it helped and did not hurt.  So, you set the app to change you from male-to-female or female-to-male.  You hold it to your ear like you are talking to someone, and then it transmits a series of powerful energy signals into you.  You have to have an external power supply, but he already had one from work that he used.

Sitting in the car, trying to get out of the whole evening, he struggles with what to do.  He is ready to have the ruse over, but he just can’t swallow his pride and go into the restaurant and say that he led this guy on for two years.  Having pulled the app to look at it one more time, he looks at the start button as it blinks at him.  His decision is made for him, as he gets a phone call from Pix.  Having swapped numbers just in case, he holds the phone up to his ear.  Not switching from the app, his ear makes contact with the “start” button.  He tries to say ‘hello’ when a powerful electrical bolt shoots into him from the phone.  His muscles tense up and he ‘freezes’ in place.  From outside the car, it looks like he is listening to someone on the phone.  Oh great, he whines, I just started the app.

“Hello,” a male voice mechanical voice says smoothly, “Welcome to the It’s Not Me app, your vacation from yourself for 24 hours.  I will be your guide, Al.”  The brief pause gives Harry time to think a response, Hey Al, could you stop this thing?  It was an accident.

“It appears you have not selected your default settings,” Al reports.  Well of course I didn’t, Harry ‘responds,’ I did not think I would be doing this.

“No worries,” Al presses on happily, “We will use the base settings in the app along with some of your own desires and fantasies.”  My what? Harry thinks.

“Right now, the phone is using your external battery to send wave after wave of energy into you.  This energy will temporarily move your muscles, tissues, and lacking for a better term, fat around to make you look more feminine.  Do not worry, as this is temporary, as the energy holding you as a woman will lose its effect in 24 hours.”  Well, that is good to know, Harry thinks happily.

“You will notice a tightening in your waist as the energy cinches you up.  The excess from there will be moved to your hips to make them appear lower.  Any left over will be sent to your chest for breasts.  The tightening in your face is also expected, along with any discomfort just below your waist.”  Ow, he is right, Harry complains, I feel like I can’t catch my breath as my waist and face are pulled tight.

Looking in on Harry, he still seems the same from a distance.  If you were right next to his car, you would see his clothes getting looser around his waist but tighter around his chest.  His pants are now stretched somewhat as his female hips swell slightly.  His face smooths out, giving him a much younger and more feminine look.  We can continue this, but we need to check back with Harry.

Ow! He thinks in pain, that is really starting to hurt.  Harry can feel a sharp pain just below his waist.  He knows what must be happening, but he cannot believe it is.  “The pain you are experiencing is normal, so do not be alarmed,” Al assures him. “Your unit is being pulled back inside you to make the perfect female vagina.  However, be warned that your availability with the opposite sex is only as big as your original unit, so be cautious during any intimate intercourse with a man.” Intercourse? Harry frowns mentally, was this recorded this decade?

“The tingling sensation is your hair all over your body being pulled in and redirected to your head.  This will give you a head of luscious hair.  However, if you get a hair cut while in female mode, there will be not enough to go back and you could end up bald.  It is suggested that all physical changes be made in original mode.”  Now, I would not even have thought of that, Harry nods in his head.

“The process is nearly done, so we can finish the mental parts now.  Without default settings, we can reverse the polarity of your brain to make you think you are a woman.  This will prevent any uncomfortable pronoun slips, as well as aid in your mannerisms.  As you know, you act like you think.” Uh, Harry worries, this does not seem like a good idea.

The next bolt enters him with a Zzzzap! He can feel his whole head being turned inside out.  Each thought being flipped around like on a merry go round.  As soon as it starts, it stops. Whew, she thinks, that was weird. “Congratulations, you are now a woman, and definitely not you. From your base setting, your name is now Heather.”  When the name is spoken, she can feel her brain replacing all references to Harry and replacing them with Heather.  There is almost an audible click, as her brain saves those changes temporarily.

“Enjoy your day or evening! Remember, you have 24 hours.  Your app will have a countdown if you need a reminder…hello, it’s not me.”  With Al done, Heather finds herself able to move again.  She has no idea how long it took, but that did not matter.  Looking down, her button down shirt is bulging from her chest pressing against it.  As she squirms in her seat, her pants slip down her slender waist.  “This is so weird,” a feminine voice says out loud.  Holding her throat, she squeals softly, “that was me?”  While the app fixed many things, there are just some things it cannot do or maybe shouldn’t do.  She has her memories and thoughts leading up to the app.  She is still who she was, sort of, but now living in a body that is not quite hers.

Her phone beeps again, reminding her of the voicemail that Pix must have left.  Pressing the button on the smartphone with her slender, feminine hand, she hears a deep voice say, “Sorry but I got stuck in traffic.  I am gonna be a little late, and I didn’t want you to think that I stood you up.”  Well, she nods, that certainly helps me.  Looking back down at herself, I need some clothes fast.

Looking around the car, she sees a small clothing shop in this strip mall.  It is mostly for women, so I have never been in it, but I guess now is a good time.  Stepping out of the car, she wobbles in shoes that are a little big, and has to grab her pants from falling down.  “Great,” she complains out loud, “I look and feel so out of place.”  Stumbling to the sidewalk, she notices few people out and about, as it is later in the evening than a usual time for dinner.  That was her idea to keep the number of people in the restaurant to a minimum.  

On the sidewalk, she continues her slow pace, as she shuffles in the once-fitting dress shoes while holding up her pants.  The Clothes4U store is small, but it does have two mannequins in either window beside the door.  The mannequins seem to be calling her in, as she backs into the door so she can keep her pants held up.  The bell from the door startles her, and she lets the door go in “eep!”

An older woman comes from the back room and eyes her suspiciously.  It is clear she is not approving of what I am wearing, Heather reasons.  Whipping up a story, she blurts out before the saleslady can even say hello, “I’m sorry for my appearance, but I have made a mess of my clothes and these were all I could find in the car.”  The saleslady stops momentarily, and says softly, “really.”  Continuing on with her hands on her hips to hold the pants up, “Yes, I was coming to a date and I spilled coffee on my dress when I made a sudden stop.”  Looking down at herself as she finishes her story, “I just happen to have my dad’s dry cleaning in the car, so I put it on so I could come in here.”  The woman seems to believe the story, but it also seems rather far-fetched.  But the longer she looks at the young woman wearing the ridiculous outfit, the more believable it seems.  “So, what can I get you?”

Heather quickly scans the room.  I just need some pants and a top with some shoes that fit, she thinks, but she says, “Do you have black leggings, brown boots, a matching pantie and bra set, and a form-fitting sweater?”  As soon as the words leave her mouth, she thinks, what was that about?  Evidently it made sense to the saleslady, as she immediately moved to her right, and replies, “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”  Heather starts to shuffle after her, when the lady says over her shoulder, “Oh do please go sit in the fitting room before you fall down.  Or worse, your clothes fall down.”

Heather did not like the tone of the command, but she could not argue with the reasoning.  Shuffling back to her right, she found the fitting room labeled on the door.  Working the door that was slightly open with her elbow, she slides inside and sits on the cushioned chair.  The small tight room gave a moment’s peace and a chance to look at herself.

Her hair was a light brown that went past her shoulders.  It was kind of wavy, like it might curl if given the chance.  Her face seemed like her old one, but maybe 5 years younger and obviously more feminine.  Her hands and arms, and probably her legs and feet, are completely smooth to the touch.  Her chest is more than she expected.  I have this desire to cup myself, she thinks, yet at the same time it sounds so yucky.  Admiring herself in the mirror, she does not notice the saleslady walk in.

“Well, miss,” she begins by hanging items on the hook on the door, “I have your sizes and desires here on the hangers.  Try them on and let me know if you need anything else.”  And before she can reply, the door closes but she does not hear any footsteps walking away.  Is she waiting for me?

The clothes in front of her draw her attention.  She stands up and runs her hands down the shiny black leggings.  Wow, this would be the perfect outfit for a date, she thinks.  Hmm, she wonders, it did say my “fantasies” too, so maybe it did something with that as well.  Without wasting any time, she quickly strips (which took no time at all), and slides into the perfectly fitting cream colored bra and pantie set.  Mmm, this feels great.  As she admires herself in the mirror, she hears, “Have you the undergarments on?”  “Oh yes, I do.”  With that, the fitting room door opens and the woman comes right in.  Before Heather can protest, the woman spins her around and starts adjusting the straps.  “What are you doing?”  Heather asks surprised.  “Fitting you properly, miss.”  With a zipping sound, Heather can feel her left breast pulling high and tight.  “Oh my,” she exclaims.  Within seconds, her right does the same.  Looking down, it is like every dream she had ever had (well, when she was a man anyway).  The woman straightens out the straps and snaps her waistband to smooth the wrinkles.  “There you go, miss,” she says as she leaves, “You may continue.”

Heather, still kind of shocked from the treatment, continues as instructed.  She slips into the shiny leggings, which feel amazing.  The cream colored sweater fits nicely, as it hugs her waist, extends past her butt, yet feels soft and warm.  Finishing off her look, she pulls on the knee high riding boots.  Stomping her feet in them, she looks into the mirror again.  “Woah,” she mutters, “Perfection.”  Just like the app promised, she finishes to herself.

Walking out of the fitting room, the salesperson eyes her approvingly.  “Well, miss,” she begins, “You have surprised me this evening, which is not easy to do.  You look stunning.”  Heather replies shyly, “Thank you.”  “And the payment?”  She had not thought of that, but since the lie started with a guy, she might as well finish it with him.  She fishes into the pockets and pulls out a credit card.  The saleslady smirks and asks, “Daddy to the rescue again?”  Breathing out a sigh of relief, she replies, “Yes, he is always there for me.” Literally.

Within moments, her old clothes are bagged up and she is out the door.  She eyes the mannequins one more time, and then heads back to the car.  Dropping her bag off, she walks over to the Noodle Shop.  By the time she gets there, she has more confidence in herself, having been a woman for a full 30 minutes.  She thinks of walking in, when a tall thin fellow catches her eye.  He is wearing a green shirt with a camera on it.  The title under it says: “freeze!”  She smiles and stops, “Pix?”  The tall thin fellow smiles broadly and runs his hand threw his light brown hair, “I guess the shirt worked, Free-Z?”  She nods and replies, “I guess it did.”

They stand there for a minute, like an awkward pause that needed to be broken.  She did not know what to say, so she turned and grabbed the door, “Let’s go in.”  As she started to hold the door for him, he started to walk through, but at the same time, they both realized that he should be doing this and not her.  In another awkward moment, they swapped places after bumping into each other and a small kid running out the door.  They laugh nervously, and finally slide inside the noisy restaurant.

The Noodle Shop is a large open room with a counter along the back for order and pick-up.  The drink machine is off to the left, and there are small round tables with chairs all over the place.  Her flat heels clunk slightly as she walks up to the counter.  He comes beside her and asks, “Do you come here often?”  She turns to face his brown eyes and answers, “Not really, but there is never really a line, so it can be quick.”  He nods his answer and looks back at the menu.  

The lady behind the counter asks, “Hi, what would you like?”  Heather steps up and orders quickly.  Without thinking, she reaches behind and feels her right butt cheek for her wallet.  “Oh,” she exclaims, “I forgot.”  He looks down at her and says, “Forgot what.”  “That, I don’t have my wallet on me,” trying to make it sound more feminine, she adds, “from my purse.  Must have left it in the car.”  He nods like he understands and replies, “it happens.”  As he looks up to the menu again, the lady behind the counter makes a playful comment, “I guess you have to buy her dinner.”  He looks at her if she has two heads, but then he slaps himself on the forehead.  “Oh, right, right,” he starts, “I meant to say that.”  Digging into his pockets, he pulls out some cash to hand to the lady.  She takes the money and says, “Uh, do you want anything?”  Again, he slaps his forehead, “sorry about that,” and orders.

Within moments, they are sitting at the table with their drinks and numbered buzzer.  The conversation is small talk about their trip over.  They both cannot seem to find anything to talk about that does not end awkwardly.  The buzzer goes off, signaling their food is ready.  Both of them stare at it, as if it meant something, but neither could put it together, as they were trying to carry the conversation.  Eventually, one of the workers brings their food to them, seeing the lighted-buzzer vibrating itself across the table.  They smile, say thanks to him, and laugh nervously.  The whole room is loud with noise of chatter and laughter, but they only chew quietly.  She brings up their last roleplay, but it is not really public-appropriate, so he only says how much fun it was.  Like their minds are synched, they both say together after another long pause, “Why can’t we talk tonight?”  Saying it together, they laugh naturally for the first time, and like an ice breaker, it helps the evening straighten out.

They finish dinner and talk some more, but it is getting late.  As they walk to the door, she says, “Thanks for dinner, it was really great meeting you in person.”  He bows slightly, “You’re very welcome. The pleasure was all mine.”  They say a few other things back outside, and though he acts like he might say something more, he just smiles.  Trying to end on a higher note, she asks, “Wanna roleplay when we get home?”  Realizing that might have the wrong meaning, she adds quickly, “I mean, when you get to your home and I get to mine.”  He snickers a little, then adds, “Yeah, that would be great.”  

He holds up his hand, as if to wave goodbye.  When she sees it, I guess that motion triggered something in her app-changed brain.  Without thinking, she immediately steps closer to him and hugs him.  His hand wave seemed to be an invitation, he reasons, so he hugs her back with both hands.  They hold it briefly, and then she steps back.  “Good night,” she says with a smile, and he returns the same smile with, “Night!”  With nothing more to say or do, they turn and walk back to their cars.

As she walks back to her car, she plays the evening over and over in her head.  The whole thing just seemed awkward in every sense.  I don’t know if it was me or him, she thinks.  As she passes the boutique she bought her clothes from, she sees the mannequins in there and sighs. “You don’t have boy problems, ever.”  Seeing the sales lady busy with tidying up, she walks back in the store.  The bell causes the saleslady to straighten up.  She does not smile at first, but then catches herself, yet just as quickly stops.  “Hmm, I take it did not go well.”  Heather chuckles, “You could say that.”  The sales lady does not know her, and really is not looking for a friend, but she says in reply, “Dating is a sport that few are good at.”  Heather smiles and nods, not really sure how to take that statement.

Looking around the store, Heather asks, “I know you have done already so much for me, but could I ask a favor?”  The sales lady looks at her sourly and replies, “All sales final once they have been worn.”  Heather shakes her head, “No, no, I don’t want to return the clothes.  They fit me so well, I think they might be my favorite outfit.”  The woman sighs in relief and looks back to Heather expectantly.  “Well,” Heather begins, “I know your shop closes in about 45 minutes, but would you mind if I stood in the window next to your mannequins?”  The woman eyes her like she had purple skin.  “You see, I really could use something to relax me, take my mind off the date, and I thought some mindless posing would help.”  The woman seems to think this whole thing seems crazy, but she knows her store will most likely not see another customer tonight.  Mid-week nights are really slow near closing.  “You are definitely a strange person, ma’am,” she begins, “But as it turns out, I was thinking of changing the clothes on the one mannequin in the window tonight. If you would like to take her place while I do that, I think it would be alright.”  Heather puts her hands together and replies, “Oh, thank you, I promise not to mess anything up. I won’t even talk to any customers that come in.”  The sales lady replies, as if she never thought of that, “You most certainly should not talk to anyone, probably scare them to death.”

They both walk up to the window where the mannequin stands in perfect stillness.  The mannequin has an ankle cuff that attaches her to the base.  Unlocking it, the sales lady pulls the mannequin out of the window.  “Ok,” she starts, “This usually takes about 30 minutes, so the window is yours.”  Looking out into the parking lot, there are very few people walking around the strip mall.  It does not appear anyone is paying attention to them, so this will probably do nothing for or against business, she thinks.

“Thanks again,” Heather says and steps into the window.  Standing on the mannequin stand, which elevates her maybe an inch or two, she put one foot slightly in front of the other.  Bending her arms slightly, with one down and the other partially raised, she cocks her head slightly to the side.  Smiling barely, she looks out into the parking lot and strip mall businesses.  Breathing deeply at first and then more shallow, she finds her mind relaxing and releasing the tension within her.  Within a few minutes, she finds peace and contentment like she had been in a yoga class for hours.

When the bell of the door opening chimed, she nearly jumped.  She had been enjoying the trance so much, she did not even notice a customer walk in the store.  She can hear the footsteps as the lady walks around the store.  Her heels clicked softly with each step.  Within a few moments, the sales lady walks out and greets the customer.  They make idle chit-chat about a jacket that might be on sale, a piece of jewelry that the sales lady no longer carries, and a coupon that she got in the mail from another store.  The customer obviously was confused about the store, so she turns to go out.  Heather still cannot see her, but in the reflection of the window, she sees the customer turn and walk towards her.  Uh oh, she thinks, does she notice that I’m real?

Upon reaching her, she bends down and points to her boots, “Do you have these in a size 6?”  The sales lady walks up behind her, not saying anything about the ‘real’ mannequin, and replies, “I think so, let me check.”  The customer turns to looks at the boots again.  She bends down and runs her hand along them.  Heather can feel tingles all over her body now, as the woman is treating her like she is not real, and for whatever reason, it is exciting.  Is this part of the app? Heather wonders.

Within seconds, the sales lady returns, in record time.  She has a box for the boots.  She motions to the chair and has the customer sit down.  Getting them on is easy and with a quick double zip, the customer is standing and walking around.  “Mmmm, these feel wonderful,” turning to admire them, she adds, “I’ll take them.”  The sales lady smiles and stands up, “Wonderful!”  Turning towards the “mannequin,” she says, “could we see what that mannequin’s ensemble would look like on me?”  The sales lady pauses like she is thinking about it, but then replies, “of course, ma’am, let me find the necessary pieces.”  Within a few minutes, the customer has on the exact same outfit as Heather.  With a big smile in the mirror, she turns and says, “I’ll take it all.”  The sales lady smiles in shock, but tries not to show it.  

Back in her normal clothes, the customer walks out with multiple bags on her arms and a smile on her face.  As she leaves, she says with the door closing, “Never would have thought to buy this without that well dressed mannequin of yours.”  The sales lady nods absently and waves goodbye.  Thinking to herself, what just happened?  As the lady pulls out of the parking lot, Heather says loudly, “What just happened?”  The sales lady, not one for being speechless, stands there in confusion.  Heather backs out of the window and walks over to her.  The sales lady extends out her hand with a smile and says, “What hours are you available?”  

Heather only looks this way for a few more hours…but the app is loaded on her phone.
Heather has a full-time job already…but a part-time job could bring in more money.
Heather is torn between what she should say…what do you think?