My toes begin to wiggle and squirm, violently. It hurts badly.Feels like I'm tearing apart. I grab the sides of the wooden tub. Iwince in pain. I open my eyes again. My legs are splitting apart! Frommy former toes, right up to my thighs along those vertical seams. Witheach twitch, my throbbing legs break apart even further. Like a fistopening up into a palm. I can see little cups opening right where mylegs are spreading.My legs finally stopped coming apart. I was breathing heavily. My bodyfelt a heavy rush. But I managed to breathe and calm myself down. Mylegs were now like octopus tentacles. Some of them were still andothers were slapping the water. I could feel a few sticking to thesides of the wooden tub. There were so many of them, I couldn't counthow many I had. I focused on trying to control them. Eventually Imanaged to calm them down. I was no longer surprised that my lower halfhad turned into this.A curious thought creeped into my head. I knew I was a girl now. But doI still. I tried looking at a magazine but found myself staring at it blankly, anticipating those firm hands with wonderfully kneading fingers.Gretchen stuck her head out of the office door, as always with a polite (and beautiful) smile. “Ready, Mr. Jameson?”When we got inside, I noticed there were no other patients, when there are usually at least two and sometimes as many as four being treated. I questioned Gretchen and she said, “One of my aides is on maternity leave, one called in sick and the other is not scheduled until after lunch. Luckily you’re my only patient this morning.”The warm-up pad on my upper thigh relaxed me, and I was ready for another physical struggle of sorts. Once I had my pants off and the sheet over my lower body, Gretchen began. “Your skin is so dry, Mr. Jameson that I’ll need to put some moisturizing lotion on it so my hands won’t bruise you.” She poured some oil in one hand and reached under the sheet, starting at my knee. She used both hands, pulling, pushing and.
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