Showers were what Roger hated most. Showers made it impossible to conceal from himself the maleness of his body. The gross muscles, the disgusting body and facial hair, the thing between his legs. Everything that stood between him and the woman he knew in his heart he really was was hammered into him by the streams of water.
He handled it the way he always did, by closing his eyes and fantasizing extra hard about the female body he would one day have. It was a long and terrifying path--leaving home, getting a job, saving money, going through the screening process, coming out to his family and friends, then the hormones and surgery--but he knew it was the only path life offered him. He tried to imagine the breasts that would one day ride proudly on the chest of the woman he would become.
Wow, his imagination was extra-vivid today. It was if he could almost feel the weight.
Roger opened his eyes, startled. Everything he despised about his body--the muscles, the hair, the thing--it seemed like it was being washed away. The hated shower had turned into a blessing. His external body was melting away to reveal her true, feminine core.
She held up the pretty, painted nails on her slim, delicate new right hand in front of her eyes while she tweaked her sensitive new nipples with her left hand. While those around her panicked, Roger wept with joy. "Please don't be a dream." she whispered.