I woke up in a cold sweat.

"Shit..."

I slapped at my face; my skin was cold and clammy, and my mouth tasted like metal. My leg muscles were on fire, like I had just run a marathon. I shuffled all of the blankets to one side using my foot and tugged at my undershirt, finding it just as gross and clammy. I groaned.

I had only been in bed for a few hours before waking up. In the morning, I would have classes, and then I would be able to come home and take a nap. That's what I told myself. It was the only way to convince myself to get out of bed on time, and not sleep through the entire day.

I wrapped myself up in blankets and waddled out into the living room.

"Erin."

They were lounged out on the couch.

"Erin," I said loudly.

"Oh, hey. I thought you were going to bed?"

I plopped onto the couch next to them. "I wanted to. I had this horrible dream..."

Erin flicked the sound off with the remote and brushed their hair behind their ear.

I took a deep breath, letting the burning feeling seep out of my limbs.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I guess."

Erin was watching a black-and-white movie about cowboys. I realized right away that I wasn't wearing my glasses.

"Mm, maybe not."

"That's okay."

They turned the volume back up.

I hesitated for just a little while before speaking up again.

"In the dream I turned into a girl."

They turned the movie all the way back down, a little more forcefully this time.

"It was..." I grasped for words. "Exhilarating. I was so scared. I didn't know what was going to happen to me."

"I see." Erin bit their tongue. "Did you, uh, how do I phrase this..."

"Did I enjoy it?"

They smiled. "Yeah."

"I guess so."

I kicked out my legs.

"Erin... How did you know you were trans?"

They paused the movie. "I wanted to be someone else for my whole life. I just figured I was only ever allowed to be myself. I didn't know that you can change who you are."

"Ha. Yeah, I feel that."

A single dark thought trickled down into my brain.

"I'm not trans."

"I didn't say you were."

"There's nothing wrong with that, that's just not... me, you know?"

"Uh huh."

"Y-Yeah."

"Tell you what."

"What?"

Erin stood up. "We've got a test for this."

"...No, you don't."

They pointed at me. "You, sir, are going to put on a dress."

I laughed. "Come on, Erin, be serious."

"I am serious!"

My laugh trailed off. "I don't need to do that."

They smirked. "What, are you some kinda pussy?"

I gritted my teeth.

"Not man enough to try on a dress?"

They knew just how to rile me up. I furrowed my brow. I crossed my arms and looked far away from them, towards the corner of the room where the TV was connected to the wall outlet. My eyes settled on a stain on the carpet.

A few seconds later, I got up and followed them.

"I'm going to pick something out for you."

"Why?"

"Because you have no fashion sense."

I snorted.

They produced a small, simple dress from inside their closet. Black, like most of their wardrobe. It was something like a nightgown, built from thin silky fabric and hemmed in simple lace. When they handed it to me, it slipped slightly between my fingertips.

The comforter slipped off of my shoulders and onto the floor.

"This will do for now."

I found myself staring at it.

"You alright?"

"I don't think I can wear this."

"Sure you can. Just go into the other room and try it on."

I didn't know how to respond.

"Go on, now." They patted me on the back. "It's really simple. If you don't like it, you can take the dress off, hand it back to me, and we never talk about this again. Okay?"

I hesitated for an achingly long time. "...Okay."

They shooed me out of their room. I stumbled back into mine and sat down. The dress was still in my hands. It was warm and cool at the same time; I held it in my hands with a sense of reverence. Dresses were difficult to get a handle on. As a teenager, they had almost seemed like mythical things. Things I didn't get to touch. Things I didn't get to understand, like so many other things that were supposedly exclusive to girls.

It was right here, sitting in my hands.

An object tumbled out from inside the dress. I leaned down to pick it up, turning it around in my hands. It was a band of leather— a collar. For wearing. Heat rose to my cheeks. For just a brief moment, I wondered if Erin intended for me to wear it as well, but I shook it out of my head. Everything about this situation was bizarre. It was extremely late at night. I wasn't wearing my glasses. Absolutely nobody was around. The world around me felt hazy— it felt like it belonged entirely to me, a moment between the night and the day that I didn't have to share. Surely, in the foggy atmosphere, I could convince myself that both the dream and the dress were things that deserved to be forgotten.

I took off my undershirt.

A moment later, I took off my underwear too. I instinctively replaced them with a clean pair that was more colorful, and tossed the old pair into the hamper. I had to act spontaneously, or reality would somehow come crashing back in. The dress was up and over my shoulders before I could second-guess myself. I fumbled with it for a few seconds, trying to find the exact place my head needed to go. And then it was on, and I was pressing it down, and there was nothing else I needed to do.

"Heh."

It felt like I was wearing a suggestion. Even with my boxers on, my legs were completely exposed. I could practically see the fuzz on my chest poking through the fabric. This wasn't a piece of clothing. This was silly.

"Ahaha!"

I laughed at myself.

Of course I wasn't a girl. That idea was ridiculous. And now, I had proven it. I felt ridiculous in the dress. Ashamed, even. Erin would never feel that way if they put on the same thing.

Just for kicks, I snuck into the apartment bathroom and turned on the lights.

"Haa..."

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and immediately closed my eyes. I wasn't sure why, at first. There was a moment where I wanted to fumble for the light switch and take the dress back off, to return to what I thought of as normal for just a little while longer before taking another step. The brain fog was completely gone with just that flick of the switch. I slowly opened one eye, then the other, and stared at myself in the mirror. My breath stalled out in my throat.

Very slightly, and from the right angle, I sort of looked like a girl.

It was just like in the dream. Asleep, it had been a single half-forgotten moment that terrified me. Now it was real. This girl's hair was my hair. This girl's body was my body. She was flat chested, and very stocky for her size, and her hair was cut short, but she had a deer-in-the-headlights look to her expression that was almost cute, and her jawline was rough enough to seem mature for her age. I reached out and touched the mirror. The dress swirled around my legs, and I imagined for just a moment what it would feel like to wear something like this every day, to look like this every day. Even with the imperfections. Even with the hair on my face and my legs.

My lungs gave out, and I gasped for air.

I reached into the drawer and brought my electric razor to my face. Off went the stubble. I tousled my hair, and ran a hairbrush through it a few times. I folded my bangs in front of my face. Now I could see it even more clearly: There was a girl's face, trapped just beneath my own. The realization made me want to rip my skin clean off, as though enough violence could somehow let that unrecognizable girl free.

The collar fell out of my hand and bounced against the floor.

I bent down to pick it up and slowly, carefully placed it around my neck. Like a belt, a metal pin slipped into a measuring hole and sat firmly in place. It was cold, far colder than the dress, tight enough to press up against the middle of my neck. It wasn't helping the sensation of being unable to breathe. I tugged at it instinctively. Sitting properly, it somehow made my entire face look more feminine. The place where my neck met my shoulders had been pressed out, showing just my collarbone and the very top of my slender neck.

"This is unreal."

The sound of my own voice pulled me back to my senses. I cleared my throat and tried it again, speaking at a higher register.

"This is unreal."

My voice was squeaky and strained. I winced, shutting my mouth.

"You okay in there?"

I stammered for just a moment before Erin swung open the door. I shut my mouth again. They gave me a once over and smiled, satisfied.

"The collar too, huh."

I let out a ridiculous whining noise.

"I didn't think you had it in you."

"I thought this was a test."

"And the verdict?"

I didn't know how to put it into words. I avoided their eyes and nodded my head slowly. They stepped closer, gently putting their hands on my shoulders and leaning down to whisper in my ear.

"Good girl."

I wheezed as all of the blood in my body rushed up into my face.

"You did such a good job."

"Aah..."

"Shh, it's okay." They ran their fingers through my hair. "Everything is going to be okay from now on."

"I don't like it."

They smiled. "It's okay."

"It hurts. I want it to stop..."

"It's okay. You're okay."

"What..." I grabbed at their clothes. "What do I do?"

"Relax."

"Y-Yeah."

"You're going to relax, and tell your professors that you can't come to class tomorrow, and take a nice warm shower."

"A nice warm shower," I repeated.

"That's right. And you're going to listen to me very carefully, and tell me what you're feeling, and be honest with yourself, alright?"

"Alright..."

"Good girl."

The electricity in my brain was threatening to shock me.

"Go on and take your shower, okay?"

They stepped out of the room and I pulled the dress off immediately, slapping my cheeks to flush out the embarrassment that was filling up my head. I tossed the dress aside— then went back and picked it up, brushing out the wrinkles and hanging it up next to the shower. I pulled off my boxers and turned the water on. A persistent nervousness had replaced my shame. I paced back and forth, staring at my own feet. I didn't want to look in the mirror anymore.

Finally, steam drifted out from behind the shower curtain, and I jumped inside, soaking my head under the warm waves.

"This is..."

I scrubbed at my scalp. Water splashed into my open mouth. I coughed.

"I can't understand this. I don't want to understand it."

My hands reached my neck, and I realized that I was still wearing the collar.

"Fuck."

I ran my fingernails down the side of the shower, picking up just a bit of soap scum along the way. I squeezed my eyes shut.

It was the collar that was truly devastating. I could handle the dress, and the realizations about myself. That was okay— but it was the way that Erin muttered good girl, like they knew exactly what was going through my head, like they demonstrated how demeaning the collar could be without even needing to say a word. I wanted to take it off, but my hands wouldn't move. It felt as though it would slip through my fingers, like the fabric of the dress, and disappear down the shower drain. I wanted to hate it. Instead, I wanted it to stay on. This was an anchoring point. Erin, who I could trust with anything in the entire world, had given me something to hold on to. Their invisible hands had wrapped around my neck, and I could still feel their lips cooing in my ear, teasing me, promising that there was more to come. It was the feeling of being known. No, it was the feeling of being owned, of being completely consumed by a person who knew everything about me and refused to let me go. I poured water over my face and eyes like a baptism and let the soothing voice of Erin in my mind pull me back out of the stream. Erin. This was all their fault. They had ruined me. I could already imagine myself sitting next to them, a leash delicately attached to my collar.

With that thought lingering in my mind, I shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. In the mirror, behind the steam, I saw myself again. At first, I didn't think anything of it. Then, I cleared away some of the condensation with my hands, and my eyes went wide.

My body was completely changed.

I was a girl. Just as I had imagined, a woman had been trapped underneath my skin. Now she was exposed, and the remains of my old body were nowhere to be seen. I was smaller, like someone had grabbed me by the shoulders and compressed me down by a few inches, and my hips had almost doubled in width. My hair, which was already starting to dry off, had fluffed up and changed its cut. The bangs settled further in front of my face, which drew my attention towards my neck; where the collar had once been, a black tattoo of intricate lines and symbols had etched itself into my neck. I ran a finger across it, and looked back up.

My ears had turned the color of my hair. I recognized them instantly: Cat ears, sopping wet like they had been there the entire time, growing straight out of my head. My hands shot out behind my back, grasping for something, and they caught a fluffy black cat's tail. I wrung it out like a wet mop.

"Erin."

I flung the door open and ran into the living room.

"Erin!"