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I shifted my body, finding a comfortable position."Alright, I'm ready. I shall begin."I began muttering the words of the spell. They did not need to be loud. In fact, for this particular magic, a whisper was better than a shout. Erica needed to hear them, however. I reached the critical part. I closed my eyes and opened my perception. I spoke slowly, uttering the final word. Erica must have lit the candle, for I felt my body slip away.Far beneath me I saw a vast tapestry with billions of interwoven threads. I could view its extent in one direction as it stretched back into the past. The other way, toward the future, was obscured in cloud and shadow. Perhaps the goddess could peer through them. Perhaps not. Each thread was a life. Each weave and knot was a life touching another. Where a thread ended...Such was how a witch perceived the ineffable.I found hers. It was a slender skein of silk, dyed blue. It appeared strong, though I dared not touch it. I found mine. It ran close to hers,. Thiswas followed by a rigidly boned corselet, which moulded his shape into afeminine configuration, with a narrow waist pushing displaced flesh upinto the integral bra and compressed his strangely excited member flatagainst his abdomen and the smooth rubber of the bloomers. A silkycamisole slipped over his head and was joined by a stiffly skirtedpetticoat. Inevitably he chose a mid calf full skirted dress in blacksatin to complete the ensemble. The room had a full length mirror whichgave John the opportunity to admire himself as he twirled and flounced inthis old fashioned outfit. Something however was not quite right, ofcourse, his hair.! He quickly scoured the box contents recalling feelingsomething hairy and sure enough there was a grey wig in an old ladypermed style. Standing in front of the mirror again he donned the wig,fussing with it until he felt happy and then stood back to review theeffect.John was amazed and pleased at the sight, just a few more additions andhis.
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