Katy, mercifully, had overestimated her arrival time, and actually showed up about thirty minutes later. Just before she arrived, I decided to move Evette's perfectly rounded ass and throw on some more decent clothing. Who knows what ideas Katy would have if she saw me prancing around, in what amounted to a pair of strings and teeny-tiny cloth. "You seem to be enjoying the change if you took the time to put on that peep show of a bikini!" "I think you'll do just fine this way. The slut look suits you." Of course, I still feared Katy was responsible for my transformation, but the tone of her texts strengthened my conviction that it was otherwise. My biggest concern now was not giving Katy the wrong impression of how I felt being in Evette's body.
It took a few minutes, but I was surprised to find some clothing that was not at all suggestive or skimpy: a white long-sleeve with some lacy bits around the wrists and stomach but otherwise no VIP access to Evette's juicy parts (this, of course, did not prevent her mammoth breasts from maintaining their position as the most conspicuous part of my body. If you put a spotlight on me and cast a shadow on the wall, my silhouette's bosom would be unmistakeable); skinny jeans; and a pair of out-of-place cowboy boots. Beneath this all I exchanged the bikini for a thong and lace bra. They didn't offer more or less support, but it was the spirit of their presence--actual undergarment as opposed to swimwear--that counted. No sooner had I changed than Evette's phone beeped, and I saw Katy's text. "here. this better be good"
With a deep breath and thousands of mental assurances, I went downstairs, to the living room, and unlocked the door. I then texted Katy, "you can come in now."
Katy stepped inside, dressed as she had been at my house, with a similar look of impatience and aggravation. Her eyes locked with mine, and immediately I knew she regarded me as a random skank my old body was skoozing around with, behind her back, and the meeting was the chance to break the news to her. She was half ready to turn around and run back out, but I moved quickly. I held my ground and said, "Katy."
"I don't believe I know you, miss." Katy's eyes fell on my chest. Instinctively I moved a hand up. Hah! As if that would cover anything.
"You do, Katy," I said. "More than you know."
"Yeah, well, I'm here to see Nick, so if you don't mind getting him..."
Here came the zinger. The make-it-or-break it line. I must have hesitated less than a second, but it felt like a lifetime. "I'm..." I gulped, then plunged in. "You're talking with him. I'm Nick."
Katy's face went through a series of distinct emotions, many polar opposites. Her mouth opened and closed, again and again. I grabbed one of my arms uncomfortably. Here it comes...
"Miss, I hope you know I'm not a joking girl..."
"Katy, I know!" I said, "You have to believe me when I say that I went to sleep after you left, and when I woke up, boom! I'm my (don't say hot don't say hot) very feminine neighbor, Evette. I don't know how it happened, I just ended up here and there's no hint as to how to get back, but I don't want to spend my life as a girl, and one who works the job Evette has, you won't believe what I'll have to do if I stay like this!"
I reached my limit. Fresh tears spewed from my eyes, and I crumbled to my knees. With each painful breath my breasts jiggled, my back ached, and more than ever I wanted to rip this body apart and find my old, male form beneath it, like Evette's skin was just a bodysuit that had been slipped on me while asleep. I knew that wasn't true, and that just made me cry harder.
"Please help me," I blubbered. "You gotta help me, Katy. I'm sorry for everything!"
Katy's hand fell on my shoulder. I looked up. Her face betrayed no emotion, although through my wet eyes it was hard to make much out. She spoke:
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