Author's note: This is a just a trifle I wrote for fun. I hope you like it

Married With Children
Sarah Barndt

    My life sucked. I ended up working in a shoe store with a wife who stayed
home all day, eating bob-bons, watching Oprah and thinking up more things that
were wrong with me. I thought it couldn't get any worse, but it did. I got laid
off from the shoe store. During the next few months I lost everything, but that
wasn't all bad. My blood-sucking wife left, too. She moved to Samoa to live with
an ex-actor who owned an island down there. Things were looking up.

    About that time an aunt I didn't know I had left me some money. I went to
see my old friend from the shoe store, Al Bundy. Since I left, the boss had been
working him harder than ever and didn't give him a raise. He had heard the store
was for sale. I told him about my inheritance. We decided to be partners and buy
the store ourselves. We did and Al let me fire the guy who had laid me off. That
used up my money so Al let me stay in a room over his garage. His wife had run
off with the rubber man from circus years ago. She claimed Al couldn't satisfy
her in bed. That was ridiculous. Al had scored 4 touchdowns in one game. I had
seen it, and he always scored with all the cheerleaders, too. He had two boys
who were getting into high school. I think he wanted some help around the house.

    The store was a success. Al was an ace shoe salesman. I, on the other hand,
was bored with it. In time I ended up spending more time taking care of the
house and doing the books out of a basement office. Life was getting pretty
good. Al's oldest boy, Frank, wasn't very bright but he was a nice kid and
popular. The other one, Bud, was a good student but a zero with chicks. Al was
really grateful for his new prosperity and wanted to get me a gift.

    I had been worried about losing my hair and Al knew it. He sent away for
Dr.Iggy's Miracle Hair Restorer. He and the boys gave it to me to celebrate the
1st anniversary of owning the shoe store. I was happy to get it, though I might
not have been had I seen the warning label that had fallen off the bottle. It
read : Warning. Not certified for use on humans. Can cause mutations. Use with
caution. That evening, I was whistling as I rubbed the cream into my scalp and
fell asleep dreaming of all the babes I was going to get when my hair grew back.
The next morning I awoke to discover my hair had already begun to grow back! The
bald spots were filling in. The only thing odd was it was red now. I showed
everyone and they were all happy for me.

    The next month was great. Al and I went to the nudie bar almost every night.
With my confidence back I was picking up women left and right. I felt so good to
hop on a hot babe then roll over and go to sleep. My hair was really growing in
now. I needed to get it cut every few days and it was getting redder and redder.
I didn't care. It was great to have a full head of hair again. The problems
started during the 4th week.

"Come on, Al. I really want to see it," I whined
"No, Reggie. I will not go see "Cats". Why the sudden interest in Broadway shows
anyway? Gadzooks! Look at all these CD's. "42nd Street, Phantom of the Opera,
Les Miserable, and what's this? A Peter Allen record!! YAAAAH" Al shrieked as he
dropped the CD.

    Al won, sort of. I went to see "Cats" by myself. The next night at the nudie
bar Al brought someone home, but I didn't. It was fun just to talk to the women.
I told one girl that her fuscia chemise looked lovely. Al just stared at me like
I had spoken Chinese.

"Reggie! What's wrong with you man! First the showtunes, then the Peter Allen
records and now! NOW! You're TALKING to women. I swear you were... dare it say
it.. sharing your feelings! Mark my words. No Bundy has ever shared a feeling
with a woman - or a peaceful moment, or a fulfilled life for that matter, but
that's not important. I'll have no sensitivity under this roof," Al blustered.
This was only the beginning.

    The next week my hair began to fall out. Not my scalp. My body hair. Looking
back, I hadn't shaved for almost a month. Something was wrong. I didn't want to
go to the shoe store anymore. I really got into watching Oprah and I found it
harder and harder to have dinner ready when Al got home. One night I had a
dream. I was kissing some movie star. I opened my eyes and it was --- Mel
Gibson!!!! I woke up screaming and covered in a cold, clammy sweat. The next
morning during my shower, I noticed my Adam's Apple was smaller. I spoke and my
voice was higher! What was happening to me! I got out my Playboy's and looked at
the centerfolds. I didn't get hard! Not even for Anna Nicole Smith! I put on my
bathrobe and ran to Al's room. He was already awake and I told him happened. I
wanted to show him but he threatened to punch me if I did. But he did get on the
phone to Dr.Iggy's Discount Pharmaceuticals in Tijuana, Mexico.


    I was biting my nails as Al spoke to the company.
"Hello. This is Al Bundy. Get me Dr. Iggy........ What do you mean he can't come
to the phone. When I pay a good $12.95 for something I expect to talk to the
head man if I have a problem. Where is he.... Oh. Really?... Well, uh, when will
the doctor try to find a cure.... Oh. Well call me when it's ready."

    I asked Al what had happened. "Well, Dr. Iggy knows all about the problem
with the hair restorer, but he couldn't come to the phone because he was
delivering a baby."

"You mean he's an obstetrician, too?" I asked confusedly.
"Well...No. Dr.Iggy is HAVING the baby. It seems the cream grows hair by turning
men into women .... and there's no way to reverse it." Al mumbled.

Fear now ruled me. "Get Dr. Iggy on the phone, Al. Please. There must be
something he, uh, she can do," I whined. "Sorry. Dr.Iggy won't be returning
until he gets his figure back....., and then it will be to work on cure for
PMS." Al replied. "But don't worry. When it's ready, you'll get a free sample.
Isn't that great!" I collapsed onto the sofa, which had never felt so
comfortable. Oh no! I was really turning into a woman! And there was no way to
stop it from happening. "I hope DR. Iggy gets stretch marks," I cursed under my
breath.

    During breakfast, Al told Bud and Frank what was happening to me. Frank
looked sick and ran to the bathroom and Bud started to laugh maniacally. We
didn't understand. Bud pulled himself together. "I'm not laughing at you,
Reggie. You see, Frank wanted chest hair to impress some girl so he's been
rubbing the cream into his chest for the last 3 days." Al staggered back against
the wall. Frank was going to become a female, too! I went to Frank to try to
console him, but what could I say. I was changing, too. The best I could offer
was that he wouldn't have to go through this alone. You could cut the depression
with a knife. I always peed standing up, not knowing how much longer I'ld be
able to. Buck, the dog, saw me carrying the jar of hair cream out to the trash
and backed away from me growling. Even the dog knew! I stayed in my room and
thought about this for a long time. There were going to be practical problems to
solve. Frank and I would have to reveal our changed sex, and suffer the
humiliation .... unless. I had an idea. I went to see Al. I burst into his room
and said, "Al. Will you marry me?" He didn't understand what I was talking about
until I explained the details. I would assume my ex-wife's identity. I would
become Peggy Wanker and marry Al Bundy. Reggie would leave for Samoa and we
would tell anyone who asked that Frank was Peggy's daughter, and we would say
that Frank had gone to live with his mother. This way no one would have to know
about either of our sex-changes. Reggie would leave his half of the business to
Al, but Peggy would own half of Al's stuff anyway. I could use Peggy's I.D. It
would be simple. Al was reluctant, but agreed, mostly for Frank's sake. As soon
as I looked enough like a woman, I would start being Peggy. It was summer
vacation, so we could hide Frank's transformation easily enough. I wasn't too
close to anyone in the neighborhood, except Marcy and Steve from next door. She
had been feeling she might be a repressed lesbian and I had spent a lot of time
with her helping her deal with it. We had really become friends. I decided I
would tell her. Somehow I thought she would understand and be able to help me.
Steve didn't like us much but he would keep it quiet to 'protect what's left of
our property values'. We told Frank the plan. He agreed as well and said he
wanted to be called Kelly because that 'could be a boy or girl's name so maybe
no one will notice'. (?????) Whatever. Al and I were married at "Herby's
Honeymoon Village and Fishing Lodge" towards the end of the summer. Of course, a
lot had happened during those months. It wasn't four men that the neighbors saw
living in our house. It was a man, a tall redheaded woman, a boy, and a skinny
teenage girl. Fortunately none of them could hear the grumbling when I had Al
carry me over the threshold. I can admit now, there were times when I wasn't
sure Al was going to go through with this.
    A week after our call to Dr. Iggy I received a pamphlet from him, and a 20%
off coupon, for the new PMS cure. The pamphlet was called "So, You're About to
Grow Hooters: a Newcomers Guide to Being a Woman". I described what was going to
happen to me. I was already at stage 2. I had lost my Adam's Apple and my balls
had withdrawn into my body. I occasionally felt movement inside. I guess my
organs were moving and reforming. It was weird, but not painful. Next my penis
had pulled in flush. With pants on, I was as smooth as a girl. This really was
bad. I had to sit to piss now, and would for the rest of my life. I had also
lost muscle mass and my voice had gotten higher. I shared this experience with
Kelly. He didn't want to look, but I made him. This would be happening to him
soon. It would be easier if he knew what to expect. Marcy was, as expected, very
supportive. She was going to teach me how to dress, wear make-up and do other
women things. Steve just looked at me with a big, shit-eating grin and laugh at
us behind our backs. But I wasn't ready to be all woman yet. I was going to wear
my male clothes for as long as I could. In another week I had a real vagina and
clitoris. I wasn't sure if I had a uterus yet, but I soon found out ... when I
had my first period. ugh!

    Menstruation, while a sure sign I was now female, merely started my slow
transformation into a woman. Womanhood, femininity were all a state of mind,
well beyond altered chromosomes. That was going to be the hardest part of the
journey. Learning how to live as a woman. But, as I said, menstruation was a
start. For one thing, it made me start wearing women's panties instead of my old
jockey shorts. The jockeys were too - loose down there to hold in a sanitary pad
and they let the string of a tampon wiggle too much. I also was started on an
emotional roller-coaster that I just couldn't get off. I felt happy, sad, angry,
grouchy, content, joyous, depressed, ecstatic or some combination for days at a
time or feel all of them over a few minutes. It was a draining experience to say
the least, and I could tell something that was 'me' was changing, being washed
away or re-shaped, by this emotional maelstrom. There was a very real 'Peggy'
growing inside me.

    Over the next month my body really changed shape. My male musculature
completely disappearred. I was as weak as a kitten! What muscles didn't shrink
seemed to turn to fat. My clothes became loose in the waist and snug around the
hips and chest. My nipples enlarged into sore, throbbing cones. There were days
when I couldn't stand to wear a shirt so I would stay shut in my room. Soon I
could actually feel my breasts jiggle when I walked. That made me cry. This
process continued for a few weeks until the day came when I could no longer
squeeze my hips into my pants - or b-b-button my shirt. Marcy had been ready.
She came over and helped me put on my first .... bra.

    I cried a lot that day. I would look at myself in the mirror; at my 32A cup
breasts making bumps in the sleeveless shell I had on; at my hips and round ass
filling the snug - ladies slacks. OH NO!!! I was a woman!! I was wearing a bra!
I NEEDED a bra!! And I had - had - n-NOTHING between my legs!! This was the day
I had been dreading. When my outside had caught up with my inside. The end of my
male life when people would start treating me as the - female I had become. I
couldn't hide it anymore. From now on I had no choice but to live as a woman, as
Peggy, as Al's ........ wife.

    My outward change to womanhood bothered Kelly because he was starting to
experience the same physical changes I had. His change was becoming a visible
fact and I represented his future. Al and Bud were most surprised by how
feminine I had become. I suppose they had been expecting me to turn into a guy
in a dress and were pleasantly surprised by how naturally female I looked. Of
course, Marcy had shown me how to apply make-up and nail polish to enhance my
looks. With her help, I was starting to believe I would get through this. I no
longer worked in the business. I decided that since Al had done this to me, it
was his responsibility to take care of me from now on. I still cooked and
cleaned, as long as my shows weren't on, but THAT was going to change, too ...
after the wedding.

    Kelly was beginning her final stages now. It was so sad to see an attractive
young man, a future hunk, turn into a soft, scrawny girl. I insisted Kelly start
wearing girl clothes when she had her first period. I didn't like my period but
Kelly really suffered. I don't know what was harder for her, changing her
blood-stained pad in the morning, or taking off the silky night gown I forced
her to wear to bed. One bright day in July, Marcy took me and Kelly on our first
trip to a beauty salon. Kelly was very nervous. It was our first time out in
public as women. She looked good in a yellow romper with a halter top. She had
no reason to worry she would be 'noticed'. "You can use the ladies room, Kelly.
They have tampon dispensers. You know what they're for. Right?" Marcy admonished
her when she had doubts about which restroom to use. I was actually looking
forward to going out. I had filled out a lot this month. My B-cup bosom felt
sufficiently big and womanly to show I'm a real female. My widened hips rolled
with every mincing step I took on my stiletto pumps. As a woman, I seemed 10
years younger. It was great! Six hours, a henna rinse, and a 2 process bleaching
later, a big-haired red head and her bleached blond daughter came home laden
with cosmetics, creams, lotions and hair care products. Neither of us EVER got
ready to go out in less than an hour again.

    The next month was a bit harder on me. My periods were getting heavier and I
seemed to be putting on some weight. My body was catching up to my real age.
Most mornings I woke up feeling 100 years old. I was aging, becoming a
middle-aged woman. I had grown to a C-cup, but they were starting to sag, as
were my upper arms, and I was getting laugh lines and crow's feet. I also needed
control-top pantyhose to keep my belly in .... and my butt was getting too big!
WAAAAA!! Meanwhile, Kelly was developing a lovely figure and now enjoyed the
attention the boys were paying. I had to admit, she was turning into jailbait. I
was starting to outgrow some of the clothes I had - and I found some gray in my
pussy hair. In desperation I pressured Al into marrying me before I was
completely transformed into a flabby matron. Besides, I was horny as hell!

    The honeymoon was better than I thought it would be. Al was surprised when I
came out of the bathroom in a black penoir. I guess he thought we'ld be married
in name only. Fortunately, he was a 'tit man' and mine were beautifully round
and plump. I gave him a boner in no time. Wow! Sex as a woman was pretty good!
Brief, but good. I was very sure I could get used to this. As the days passed I
liked it more and more. I forgot that men need a rest between fucks, and was a
little demanding. I think I intimidated Al with my lust. But like a good wife, I
had Al begging for sex by the third day. Wow! What a sense of power. My butt had
become an erogenous zone. I just LOVED to have my tushy rubbed.

    As I said before, Al grumbled a little when he carried me over the
threshold. I loved it. I was MRS. Bundy. From now on, he worked for me. All I
needed to do was have his kid and I would own his soul. I threw away my
diaphragm and let nature take its course. My days were heavenly. I got up around
10 every morning after everyone had left. I had my coffee and cigarette and
watched TV all day. The high point was a pizza during 'Oprah'. I also got
addicted to soaps. All that sex on TV made me horny as hell. Every night,
whether he was tired or not, I had Al do me. Wow. It was so great to lay back
and let someone else do the work for a change, but I still needed a vibrator
once in a while. I was pregnant 2 months later. That, however, turned out to be
a mistake. I didn't understand what pregnancy in middle age could do to a
woman's body.

    I was happy to be pregnant for a while. Al, of course, was in shock but he
came around and actually was happy. "Oh, Peg," he gushed. "We're having our
love-child. The other Peggy said it was the best time of her life. That, and the
three years it took her to lose the weight." What was he talking about? Yipes! I
was so eager to have this baby I forgot what I'ld have to go through to get one.
The weight! LABOR! I started to cry. "WAAAA! I FEEL FATTTT!" I became whiny and
demanding. OK. MORE whiny and demanding. It was fun .... until I started having
morning sickness and had to quit smoking. That passed after a few weeks and then
I got wild cravings and ...... I COULDN'T STOP EATING! By the 5th month I was
built like a duck! I had a belly, of course, but my ass was huge. My face was
fuller, my legs were heavy and my ankles were thick, but the biggest change was
to my breasts. I was absolutely tremendous! I had grown to a D cup already! I
was still horny, too. Now when I wanted some lovin' Al had to put his hands on
my fat ass and help push me up the stairs. I could feel this pregnancy changing
me; aging me. By the time I was due I could barely move. The only exercise I got
was to get up to pee, about every half hour. Kelly and Bud invented a game
called "How Big Is She?". I should have been angry but a quick glance in the
mirror showed me there was some basis for the game. Ugh. I had to step back to
see all of me. Besides, I needed them to get me fried chicken and ice cream. I
was too big to drive. I couldn't fit behind the wheel! There was no need to
worry. I had always been an athlete. This weight would come right off after the
baby came.

    When I went into labor I squealed like a stuck pig until they gave me drugs.
LOTS of drugs. When I came to, I was the mother of a sweet little girl. I named
her Seven, because that's how many cup sizes I had gained since I became a
woman. The first time I showed Al his new daughter I felt such - love for him.
More than I thought I could. It was amazing. I had really become a - a wife!
Yes! Peggy really LOVED her big, strong Poo Bear! Marcy came by the day we
brought her home. Steve tried to say something but everytime he looked at me
he'ld start to laugh wildly and go outside until he calmed down. Then he'ld come
back in, look at me, and start all over again. Al was so mean. Just because I
was lactating he expected ME to do all the feedings. Actually, it wasn't so bad.
Those late nights alone with my baby at my breasts helped me become more of a
woman spiritually. I was certainly more of a woman physically. A month after
giving birth, I had gained 34 pounds! That's when the letter came.

    I received a letter from Dr. Iggy's laboratory. It read, "Dear Hair Restorer
Customer. As you know, the cream had unanticipated side effects, namely, turning
the user into a female. Since then, we have observed additional side effects.
Over time, the new female tends to become fat, lazy and stupid. Any subsequent
pregnancies accelerate this effect. These effects have so altered Dr. Iggy that
she has quit working and gone on a tour of Graceland, Dollywood and the Burt
Reynolds Dinner theater before retiring to give birth to her second child and
pursue her new hobby of playing Bingo. We wish you much future happiness." OH
NO! I WASN'T going to lose this weight! This was going to get worse! Yipes! This
would happen to Kelly, too! A year later I was an over-weight, 40 year old
housewife trying to keep up with a toddler. Luckily, Kelly was able to help me.
I couldn't handle it. Motherhood had turned me into an old lady. I wondered if
Kelly was being effected. She hadn't put on any weight, but did seem a bit
lazier. She was starting to get up late and skip class, too. There was no way of
telling if she was any stupider. More than once she came home late because she
had forgotten our address. I know I had gotten fatter, lazier and stupider. I
was addicted to talk shows and soap operas - and played Bingo three nights a
week.

    I got up around 10, as usual. I sat on the edge of the bed and stood up,
grunting. I pull off my nightgown. My droopy tits bounce against my stomach, and
jiggle as I scratch my potbelly where my stretch marks itch. After my shower and
15 minutes with a Shower Massage, I squeeze my flab into a longline bra and
panty girdle. It firms me up and smoothes the bulges, but does nothing to reduce
the sheer size of me. Long days on the couch, eating bon-bons has gotten me up
to a size 16! And I wear QUEEN size pantyhose!! At 5'8, 157 pounds, 44F-32-48, I
am one big mama. Thank goodness Al is a tit-man. He's so hot for these massive
jugs that he's scarcely noticed how fat I've become. I still wear spandex
stirrup slacks and a leopard print top, and of course, stilleto open-toe pumps.
I have some trouble putting on my make-up so I make sure no one else is home -
and put on my glasses. Damn. It's tough to get old. I put on a long, sleeveless
duster, too. My love handles are looking bigger. My mincing walk causes ALL of
me to jiggle. Sometimes I wish I hadn't quit smoking then, maybe, I'ld only be
20 pounds overweight. After I put Seven in her playpen, I got a cup of coffee
and a cheese danish and lowered my big, fat ass onto the couch to watch Regis
and that scrawny bitch, Kathie Lee.

    Sometime during Jenny Jones there's a knock on the door and Marcy comes in.
Since Steve left her she looks different. Her hair is cut real short and she
doesn't wear much make-up anymore. In fact, I can't recall the last time I saw
her in a dress. She gets a cup of coffee and sits down next to me. We chat for a
while and then I feel her hand massaging my left boob. mmmmmm Before long I'm
topless and she's sucking my nipple. Since they got so big, everybody seems to
like my tits. I watched Oprah while she was licking my pussy. Marcy didn't like
cunt hairs, so I let her shave me bald down there while I was eating pizza.
Naturally, I didn't lift a finger during sex anymore. Besides, Marcy wasn't as
good as Al. Heck she wasn't as good as my vibrator, but when you're my age, an
orgasm is an orgasm. Right? Al had been working on something in the basement,
but wouldn't tell anybody what he was doing, and I wasn't getting sex as often
as I liked. I had become such a HORNY old broad.

    Al finally told me what he had been working on. It was something he called
SHOE LITES. It was shoes that lit up when you walked. My first reaction was to
whack him across the head and called him an idiot, but I was wrong. SHOE LITES
became popular with the teens and we became millionaires overnight! Al bought us
a huge house with a great couch and a wide-screen TV just for me. I was so
happy. My Poo Bear did love his Peggy-weggy.

the end