It took me a little more than a week of experimentation with Grans cards to understand that they were not mystical or magical themselves. They were the channel to something else. A place, for lack of a better word, where I could... not talk to Gran, but access her memories and the memories of every other woman who had owned the cards. Once I figured it out though, it was a simple step to discover the secrets of my transformation.
It was the butterfly necklace, of course.
The more I indulged in the fantasy of being a woman, the more I became a woman. I could stop the transformation at any time by taking the necklace off. If I wanted to reverse the transformation all I had to do was leave it off, and dress like a man and think like a man. The only caveat was, once I was fully transformed into a woman, there was no going back. So I took off the necklace, for the time being at least, and was careful to continue wearing my bras and panties and girly clothes. It was important in the short term at least that my transformation not progress beyond where it had. My hips were wider, my ass fuller, my face softer and my breasts were a comfortable B cup - smaller than Paris or Mama, but that didn't bother me. I was a woman with a little something extra, and I needed to keep that something extra for a couple of years at least.
"A couple of years?" Daddy asked me when I told him about it. We had spent the previous hour having languid, intimate sex in my room. I wasn't sure where Mama and Paris were, but I'd guess they were in my parent's room enjoying a similar experience.
"Paris want's a baby," I told Daddy, "and it isn't like she can just go down to the sperm bank for a donation."
Daddy chuckled. "I suppose not. I just know how much this means to you."
I leaned over and kissed him before putting my head back on his chest. "It means a lot to her too. And Maybe Mama. After a couple of babies, I'll finish the transformation. And we'll go from there."
"I hope you don't wait too long," Daddy said. "I'd hate to have trouble enjoying your completed self once it arrives."
I just smiled. Then a thought occurred to me. "Daddy, if you could undo your vasectomy, would you?"
"I would." He didn't hesitate. "But if wishes were fishes-"
"But maybe we can." I thought about it. I thought about the butterfly pendant and the cards and... "let me think about it."
I'm not much of a planner, so I struggled a bit with getting my chores done, working with the cards and the pendant, and making sure my family knew how much I loved them. It was the last one that I really wanted to focus on. I had enjoyed one on one time with Mama and Daddy more than once, but so far Paris and I hadn't slept together and I wanted to change that. Only, like I said, I was a terrible planner and kept on forgetting to try and organize something. So I tried to be spontaneous. Instead of going to my room after dinner or slipping down to the cellar to work on my project for Daddy, I put on some sexy underwear and walked over to Paris's room.
It felt right that our first time together would be in her room. As I walked in she was reading by candlelight, lounging on her bed in a baggy tank top that exposed her breasts far more than it hid them and simple brief panties.
"Hey there Hot Stuff," I said in what I imagined was a girlish and seductive tone, "Whachya reading?"
She looked up at me. I had decided for this time, this first time, I was going to wear the same red, lacy underwear I had worn when she had seen me wearing when she had danced for me, along with the sheer black robe I had worn when I played with myself what seemed like so many years ago. I saw the hunger in her eyes as she looked me up and down and the confidence in her hunger as she adjusted on the bed so that one of her nipples slipped out from her tank top.
"Nothing," she said putting the book aside. "I was just waiting for you."
I stepped into her room and closed the door. Not for privacy, I don't think Paris or I had any illusions about being quiet or keeping what we were doing from Mama and Daddy, but it gave us a sense of intimacy that I wanted.
"Blow out the candles?" I asked.
She blew out the candles and when I crossed the room I felt her eyes on me. I felt her watching me, the shape of me, the admittedly exaggerated sway of my hips as I walked to the window and pulled back the curtains. The silvery light of moon and stars flowed into the room and painted everything in gentle and intimate shades. Even the old anime posters that she had once used to decorate this room no longer seemed old and faded but gentle brush strokes in the background, adding to the weight of the scene. I was nervous and couldn't turn around to see her. I knew it was fine. Everything was fine. There was no reason to be nervous but I was. I was so nervous I was having trouble getting hard.
Then I felt her behind me. I felt her breasts press into my back, her hips into my ass and her arms wrapped around me, one above my breasts and one across my belly. "You're so beautiful," Paris whispered into my ear. "I should have guessed ages ago about you. About who you are. You've always been too beautiful to be a boy. If you looked like this before fallout, I think I might be jealous of all the boys flocking to you."
I smiled and tossed out a line from Romeo and Juliet that I hoped I remembered correctly. "Thou knows't the mask of night is on my face, or else a maidenly blush would bepaint my cheeks."
"I don't want you to hide from me," Paris said. Her whispers sent an erotic shiver down my spine. "I don't want you embarrassed around me. It's just us girls here, no one to impress or show off for. No one you need to perform for. Just Baby Phee and her big sis Paris." She giggled. "Your Oneesan."
"What?"
"Its japanese for "big sister." One of my fantasies comes from a hentai where Oneesan seduces her inexperienced younger sister who just happens to have a cock."
"And what is the younger sister called?" I asked with a laugh of my own. "Cocky-san?"
"In my imagination, she's called Phoenix-chan."
I felt another shiver run down my spine and I new Paris felt it too.
"It means, my little Phoenix."
I embraced the fantasy and let it become reality. "Oneesan," I said and this time felt the arousal come from Paris. "I'm not like other girls Oneesan. You know that."
"I know Phoneix-chan."
