Gender Swapped Volume One Read online

  GENDER SWAPPED

  Volume One

  Men Becoming Women

  Sophie Pert

  Copyright © 2018 by Sophie Pert

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever, whether by electronic or mechanical means, without direct written permission from the author except in the case of a brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.

  Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This book is meant for sale to adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and language which may be considered offensive. All sexually active characters in this work are eighteen (18) years of age or older.

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  Table of Contents

  His Feminine Side: The Alpha Becomes The Girl

  Wish for a Second Chance: The Loser Becomes a Lady

  Stranded with a Stranger: The Husband Explores The Feminine Perspective

  Life on the Other Side: The Ladies Man Becomes The Lady

  Scientific Sexuality: The Nerd Becomes A Knockout

  Becoming the Beauty: Body Swapped with my Best Friends Wife

  Betrayal to Beauty: Middle Aged Loser Becomes a Buxom Blonde

  Dream Girl: Hypnotized to Become a Woman

  Cursed to Change: Football Star Body Swapped With The Cheerleader

  Secretary Switch: Becoming a Woman to Get the Job

  His Feminine Side: The Alpha Becomes The Girl

  I wasn’t drunk, I was just pleasantly buzzed. I couldn’t get drunk, getting drunk would be a bad idea. I had an exam tomorrow.

  But I could get pleasantly buzzed, get pleasantly buzzed and find a girl to enjoy some time with.

  I’d picked her up at the bar and we’d ‘connected’ almost instantly. It was lust at first sight.

  God she was hot.

  Easily an 8, but my standards are high.

  Blonde and tan and all the right curves. Fit and trim and tiny.

  I took her back to her place, always take them back to their place, and we got down to doing what I do best.

  She looked even better naked, and so do I.

  She was a moaner too, and they are my favorite.

  I took her, lying on top of her and splitting her open with my nice thick cock. I pounded into her and watched her firm tits jiggle, saw her moan and writhe on me.

  She was tight, oh fuck she was tight and she liked to drag her nails over my shoulders. She was pretty much everything I look for in a one night stand.

  I should have known it was be too good to be true.

  From what I saw of the apartment when we walked in, which wasn’t much considering I was all over her, it looked familiar. But my main brain wasn’t the one doing the thinking and so it didn’t really register with me, I didn’t really realize what it meant.

  I should have paid more attention.

  Her roommate walked in on us while I had her on all fours and was pounding her from behind. One hand on her shoulder keeping her in place while the other smacked her ass.

  What a sight we must have made.

  Her roommate was pretty hot too, dark hair and curvy. Not the sort I’d usually go for, looked like she’d want something a little more than a simple fuck and dash. But still I saw her curvy hips and her big breasts straining at her shirt, her pale skin and plump dark red lips. I’d give her one hell of a pounding if I had the opportunity.

  She looked shocked, but I’d kind of come to expect that look when girls see me with my pants off. I am gifted that way. But her shock turned to horror and anger and it was then that it all came back to me.

  Just last week I’d been here, except the roommate had been the one getting pounded and not this fit little blonde.

  It had been a dare, a buddy of mine had been in from out of town and I was bragging about my track record at school. Talking up all the girls I’d managed to fuck in the year I’d been here. Talking about how easy it was.

  I said I had game, he didn’t believe me.

  I laid out the rules.

  Find the most difficult girl in here, the one who looks like she would shoot down the hottest guy in the room if all he had was sex on his mind. I’ll go home with that girl tonight. Well back to her home, that is the rule.

  My buddy had picked her.

  She wasn’t an easy sell, and in the end I resorted to a couple of things I never do.

  I might have implied I wanted to take her out to dinner.

  I might have said there was an art exhibit I thought she would like.

  I might have told her that I was falling for her.

  Okay I definitely did all of those things, and yes I did them all to get in her pants.

  It worked though.

  In the end she was the one on the bed while I was working away. She was the one running her hands over my body, she was the one moaning on my cock.

  She was gorgeous though. Not tight and fit like the little blonde, no she had that extra bit of push to her. She was voluptuous. I hadn’t had many girls that weren’t fit and trim, she was one of just a handful. But damn was she a good lay.

  She was tight, maybe the tightest girl I’d ever been with, and her breasts were just beautiful. Big and bouncy. When she was riding me for a moment there I thought I could actually be satisfied with just this one girl for the rest of my life.

  Then I came back to reality and realized I would be crazy to give up what I’ve got.

  Back to tonight. Well she didn’t look to happy with what she’d just discovered.

  She started yelling and screaming, I kept fucking. I didn’t care but it’s too bad the little blonde did.

  They both got angry, kicked me out. Talked about how much of an asshole I was.

  Oh well you can’t win them all.

  Stumbled home then and here I am, just making my way to bed.

  Thank god my exam isn’t until late afternoon, tomorrow is going to be a rough morning.

  I crash wearing a t-shirt and a pair of boxers and I’m out in a heartbeat.

  I dream, I dream that I’m in a deep pool. It isn’t dark though, it’s light and bright and warm. Oh so warm and bubbly. A thousand thousand bubbles stirring around me.

  They tickle my skin and make me giggle. They rub at me, pressing against me, foaming over me.

  They pull me down.

  Down into the warmth and the churning water. Down and down.

  The further down I get the warmer it gets, until the heat starts to become almost too much. Only then do I feel myself stop.

  There under the water it happens.

  I feel the bubbles spin around me, feel them move faster and faster against my skin.

  They rub and they rub and bit by bit they scour me. They pull at my flesh and leave me feeling light.

  There is a moment where they pull back, where I am suspended in a pocket of still air.

  My body feels different then, light and thin. As if everything that makes me who I am is gone. As if what I am is something different. A template person, waiting to have my true self pressed on to me.

  Then the bubbles rush in again.

  They press onto me and they press into me, they burrow under my skin.

  I feel them start to change me.

  Just under my skin they build and stretch. They mold me from within, remaking me.

  Into something new.

  I feel them condense and grow tight around my hips
and around my chest. They build up until the skin slowly starts to expand.

  It hurts a bit, but not the kind of pain that really affects you. No it’s more the kind of pain that just serves to remind you of where your body is and what it can take. It’s like a hickey, burning a bit but feeling of so good.

  When it stops I feel the swollen flesh with my thin, delicate fingers. Each touch brings feelings to the surface, makes me gasp at the sensation of skin on skin contact.

  I open my eyes and look around me, look around at the stillness in all directions.

  The bubbles have left me, and in their place they have left me a new person.

  I drift off in the warmth of the water.

  Shiny and new.

  I wake groggy, about the same way I wake everyday. I come to with a groan and a yawn and a wish to keep sleeping.

  There's something different this morning, though, something that feels odd.

  My body feels tight, like I’d been working out all night in my sleep. It’s uncomfortable and in spite of a couple of attempts to get some more rest I find I can’t.

  Glancing at the clock I see it’s only 9 in the morning. I haven’t even been asleep 6 hours.

  I groan and step out of bed, blearily rubbing my eyes as I make my way to the door.

  I take one step and trip and fall.

  The smack of myself hitting the ground is enough to wake me up really quickly, and by the time I’ve rolled over onto my back I am wide awake.

  I look down at my feet to see my boxers tangled around my ankles, somehow they slipped off my hips and managed to trip me up. I reach down and grasp the fabric with my slim fingers, pulling them off my smooth legs.

  Huh?

  Smooth legs? Slim fingers?

  What the hell?

  I try to stand, a feat that proves difficult under the massive tent of my t-shirt. Since when did this t-shirt become enormous on me? I mean it was never exactly tight but it definitely wasn’t this big before.

  I lift the hem of my shirt, I have to flip my long red hair out of my eyes to see the smooth skin of my tapered legs and wait what? Long red hair?

  What’s going on?

  Why does my chest feel so odd?

  Grasping at myself over my t-shirt I feel two unmistakably familiar lumps. I’ve had my hands all over enough of these in my time I know exactly what they are. I could tell with my eyes closed.

  Shaking I pull the t-shirt over my head. I keep my eyes closed and walk over to where I know the mirror is.

  I turn to look, but can’t manage to find the courage to open my eyes.

  This isn’t what it seems like, I reassure myself. That would be crazy. You’re just having a rough morning. Probably had more to drink last night than you thought and when you open your eyes you’ll see your perfectly normal body in the mirror and everything will be fine. Because the alternative is crazy, and crazy things don’t really happen in real life.

  Here we go.

  Alright open your eyes, I tell myself, and there we are. You look perfectly normal. Or at least you probably do, you’re probably hiding behind that drop dead gorgeous redhead. Why won’t she get out of the way?

  Fuck.

  The girl staring back at me looked distinctly unmasculine, quite the opposite in fact.

  She is tiny, maybe 5 foot in total and probably weighing 90 pounds at the most. Her slender body is smooth and tight from the tips of her manicured toes to the top of her head. She has a pert butt, about a perfect handful, and perky c-cup breasts topped with small pale nipples. Her face is something to behold, pillowy soft lips and high cheekbones under lively green eyes, all of it capped by an abundance of long, flowing red hair.

  Her shapely hips are cocked to one side and she views herself in the mirror with a curious and inquisitive look on her face.

  I lift my hand, she does the same. I touch my face, she follows. I grab my hair and pull it in front of my eyes.

  It is unmistakably red.

  Scarlet.

  This can’t be happening.

  I feel lightheaded, have to sit on the bed to catch myself and try not to focus on the fact that the girl in the mirror is doing the same. I put my head in my hands, not looking at the mirror anymore, but I don’t have to look to know she’s in the exact same pose.

  How is this possible?

  I hear my phone ringing as if from a distance, it draws me slowly out of my panic, makes me come back to reality or whatever it is I’m living in now.

  I find my phone, in the pocket of a pair of jeans that would no longer fit me, and I answer it with a voice not my own.

  It’s a voice that’s soft and smooth, with just the hint of a growl. The sort of voice that makes you melt without even seeing the speaker.

  “Hello?” my new voice says.

  “Well then,” says the person on the other end of the line, “It looks like everything has worked out exactly as expected.”

  I can’t place who it is, obviously female and obviously pleased with themselves. This woman has a dry sort of voice, the kind of voice that just oozes with vindication and satisfaction. Not the kind of woman I generally spent much time with.

  “Who is this?” I ask, my voice betraying more of the fear I felt then I wanted to.

  There is a laugh from the woman on the other end, but it isn’t a joyful laugh. This laugh is mean, an edge of cruelty and vindictiveness to it that shows just how much pleasure it is getting out of my misfortune.

  “A woman you’ve wronged,” it says, “though I imagine thats not too short a list.”

  “I…” I say, confused, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She sounds mad as she spits back, “Really? Is your memory really so short? Just last night you fucked with my emotions and now already you’ve forgotten?”

  Last night? Of course it’s her… I’m going to kill my friend for that bet…

  “Right, yes. You?”

  “Yes, me,” she says, the smile on her face evident even over the phone, “Good, now you know what you’ve done wrong. What you’re being punished for.”

  “Look,” I say, about to make an excuse when she cuts me of.

  “I don’t care about your excuses,” she spits out over the phone, “I don’t even care about your reasons. I know you, I know men like you. I know what you want and what you get, I know all about the shit you pull and I am not impressed. Now you’re going to get a taste of what it’s like to be like on the opposite side for once.”

  “How in the hell-”

  “A spell,” she cuts me off again, “Plain and simple and all you need to know. It’s a spell and until it’s run it’s course you’re going to be stuck as you are. One of the fairer sex. Well then, tell me how it feels?”

  “Seriously?” I cry, “I’m a fucking girl how do you think it feels?”

  She laughs, “Well you’ve spent so much time inside so many of them, I almost figured you might enjoy being one.”

  “Turn me back!”

  “Not going to happen,” she says, “Well actually it will, but that’s entirely up to you.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

  “It’s a pretty straightforward spell,” she says, “I cast it, but I can’t turn it back or undo it. Don’t worry though, I’m not unreasonably cruel. You will turn back, it’ll just take some time. 24 hours specifically.”

  “A whole day?” I say.

  “1 whole 24 hour period,” she says, “Well 24 conditional hours.”

  “Conditional on what?”

  “You have to spend 24 hours without touching semen. Thats it. Avoid semen for 24 hours and you’re back to what you were.”

  I stay silent, entirely out of shock, trying to figure out exactly what I’m supposed to think of that.

  “Shouldn’t be too hard,” she continues, “One whole 24 hour period without touching semen, and that’s anywhere mind you. Lips, tongue, skin… other places… If you touch it though that resets the clock and you’ll hav
e to wait another 24 hours until the spell wears off.”

  “You’re crazy,” I whisper.

  “Nope,” she replies with a giggle, “Just the sort of girl who enjoys a bit of poetic justice. Well then I hope you have fun with your new body, oh and maybe think twice next time you decide to fuck around with the heartstrings of a girl you barely know. Bye now.”

  There is a click and the line goes dead.

  I don’t waste a second before trying to call her back, thumbing through my phone with slender and unfamiliar fingers until I manage to call her number back. Nothing, she’s turned off her phone.

  Fuck.

  This can’t be real, this can’t be true. Crazy bitch must have slipped something into my drink, I must be hallucinating.

  Have to stop this, have to figure a way out.

  I pinch my thigh and cry out a yelp of pain. Nope, not a dream. I try slapping myself, watching in the mirror as time after time the gorgeous figure I see smacks her hand into her face until both are red and stinging. Somehow even the sight of that looks beautiful on this body.

  I grab at my flesh, grasping at it with neatly manicured nails and trying to pry this pale skin from my body, trying to reveal the man I am inside. My hands ply the flesh of my hips feeling only the smooth skin there. They scratch at my belly but feel only the taut flesh of my abs. They grab my breasts, but only touch the soft and warm orbs that shudder and jiggle. They pinch my nipples, only feeling the shocks of heat that spark through my body at the play there. They dart between my legs, feeling the wet lips of my pert sex.

  They slip inside.

  I watch the girl in the mirror, the gorgeous figure, explore her body bit by bit as she lies on the bed.

  It starts with a single finger, playing around the edges of her pussy lips. It makes circles around it, not daring to go further, not daring to stop. When it brushes against the nub of her clit the girl moans slightly and lets her head fall back.

  She doesn’t seem to want to stop now.

  She finds her clit again and plays two fingers over it, back and forth and up and down. She makes tiny circles around it, and with each revolution she takes a moment to pass overtop. Two fingers become three as the speed picks up and before long her eyes become heavy and lidded and her mouth drops open.