Gender Swapped Volume One Read online

  She looks herself in the mirror then, the picture of lewdness and arousal.

  I look myself in the mirror, a woman pleasuring herself on the bed.

  I don’t think about how weird this is, I try to push that out of my mind and concentrate on the feelings welling up in me.

  It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, so very different from doing it as a man. A man feels blunt and purposeful, like there is a defined end goal, like it’s a race. This is so much more multi-faceted, it’s like a walk in the park, a leisurely stroll to get to where you want to be, sure there is a destination but the journey is half the fun.

  I bite my lip, my soft, pillowy lip and let the hand between my legs dip lower. I’m still playing with my clit but now I’m using the tips of my fingers to play with the lips of my pussy. I pass my fingers back and forth over them, feeling their wetness invite me in.

  Meanwhile my other hand is tracing a trail up my stomach, up over the taut flesh, alternating fingertips for nails to scratch and sooth their way up. To my breasts. I take one in my hand, tentatively feeling the weight of it, the firmness of the flesh there. I grasp it fully in my hand, groping and fondling my breast as I stare at the gorgeous woman in the mirror.

  She’s enjoying herself, panting and twitching as she works herself into a frenzy. Her hand is moving faster and faster, and each rotation brings her closer and closer to what she knows is inevitable.

  I slip a finger inside me. Just past the lips I dip it into the well of my pussy and feel it. Everything stops. I concentrate of the feeling of that one fingertips sliding past my lips. It feels enormous.

  In the silence all I can hear is the panting of my new voice and the soft sounds of wetness. I draw that finger out of me, lift it up to my mouth and taste.

  I taste good, almost sweet.

  I need more.

  In the mirror one hand moves over to the other breast as her other hand darts back down between her legs. This time it doesn’t hesitate, one finger plunges deep inside as she twists her nipples in time.

  The feeling is amazing, like a miniature explosion that leaves behind a palpable sensation of warmth. A heat that starts to build as I continue to play with myself.

  I see that girl in the mirror, watch her working away at herself, watch her building up as the heat rises inside of her. I start to imagine her, she’s with the thin blonde from last night, the two of them on her bed.

  Their lips intertwine as their hands play up and down each others bodies. Soon the blonde’s hand finds her way between the redhead's thighs and dives inside, making the redhead arch her back and grip the sheets from the pleasure.

  I feel the heat build even greater inside my new body, feel my skin start to prick with the sensations coming between my legs.

  The blonde replaces fingers with tongue and the redhead cries out her arousal to the air. Her hands grip the back of the blonde’s head, tangling slender fingers in luscious blonde curls. The redhead's hips rock back and forth as she draws so close, so very close to bubbling over.

  My bottom lip starts trembling and my body feels like it’s burning up, I feel like a pot on the stovetop about to bubble over. I’m so close.

  Desperate for something, anything, to push me over the edge my mind reaches out. Watches the blonde step back from the redhead’s thighs and start to stroke her new strap-on. I watch the blonde step up between the redhead’s thighs and place the head at the entrance to her dripping sex.

  “Oh god yes,” I whisper to the empty room, “Oh please I’m so close.”

  She parts the lips of the redhead’s waiting pussy, pushes in and buries the cock in her to the bottom. We both look down and see the cock buried in me, see the point where our two bodies meet. When he pulls back the strap-on has become oh so realistic and I look up to see what is happening.

  In my mind the face of the man fucking me is non-descript, but handsome and thoroughly masculine.

  In my mind the cock burying itself in me with long hard thrusts is very real.

  In my mind I watch it disappear between my thighs, and the sight alone is enough to drive me over the edge.

  My back hits the bed as my arms give out and I climax. I scream a silent scream, the force of my overwhelming orgasm too much for me to even make a sound. All I can do is shudder on the bed in silence and wait for the waves of passion to roll over me time and again and again until they stop.

  It takes a while.

  When my breathing becomes even and slow. When my eyes are able to focus again and my hands can finally unclench I think to myself, wow.

  I had no idea it was like that for a girl.

  My second thought is far less relaxed. It’s my mind positively screaming at me what the hell was that last dream?

  I’d imagined myself getting fucked by a man, and there is no way that is something I could just push aside.

  I find myself wondering just what the hell that means, just what the hell might be wrong with me that I’ve started fantasizing about… no I can’t even admit to that.

  It has to be a part of the spell, I reason while standing and pacing to and fro in the room, it has to be just another part of the spell that the witch never even told me about. Of course, it’s the only thing that makes sense.

  Thinking about it logically for a minute the whole condition of “don’t touch any semen for 24 hours” doesn’t make sense if this is a punishment. Of course I won’t touch any semen. I’m a dude why would I want to touch semen? Sure I might be stuck in a girls body right now but I’m a dude! A straight dude! I like banging fit chicks, not jumping on hot guys cocks.

  Yeah… that totally explains it.

  The only way that the “don’t touch any semen for 24 hours” condition is a challenge is if the second part of the spell is that I crave cock! It’s perfect!

  Wait that might not be the right wording there.

  But still it makes sense… That crafty witch. It’s the only logical explanation.

  So now, knowing that, I have to figure out a game plan.

  Alright holding up and avoiding guys is a good idea. Just avoid everyone all together. Stay in your room and just stay by yourself. You can go a full day without food, right?

  No wait crap, I have that exam today. I have to go out of the house this afternoon to get to and write the exam. The exam, how the hell am I going to write the exam like this?

  Wait, no. First things first.

  How the hell am I going to get out of the house like this?

  I’m naked, I think, looking at myself in the mirror again. Sure I’m a knockout but I don’t think the cops will appreciate that much when they’re hauling me away for public indecency.

  So clothes are a necessity.

  Which is going to be a problem.

  None of my old clothes will fit, like at all. I mean everything is absolutely huge on me.

  I’ll have to try to figure something out.

  I walk over to my closet and pull out the smallest items of clothing I have, a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Holding them up in front of me they still seem massive but they’ll have to do.

  I pull the t-shirt over my head, feeling for all the world like I’m drowning in a collapsing tent until I manage to break the surface and get my head through the neck of it. I put my arms through the sleeves and pull my hair out and around my shoulders. Next are the shorts, massive things that they are. I step into them and pull them up to my waist. They don’t even come close to fitting me.

  I wasn’t a big dude before, not fat you know. I was built and muscular and most of my clothing tending towards the fitted side to best show off all of my carefully sculpted physique.

  All of that tight clothing is immense on me now.

  I manage two steps that feel like I’m wearing clown pants before I give up and let them fall to the floor. Turning to the mirror I take a look at myself.

  I look, for all the world, like some lucky guys girlfriend wearing his t-shirt to bed.

  My red hair i
s blown out around my head, giving the sort of sexy bedhead that people pay a lot at a stylist to get. My face is flush from my… private entertainment earlier and all you can see of my body under the t-shirt is my smooth and shapely thighs. I look for all the world like a sex kitten ready to be taken for a ride one more time.

  There is no way I can go out looking like this.

  I have a strike of lightning, a moment of genius. My roommate is way smaller than I was. Granted he’s not as tiny as I am now but he’s a lot smaller than I used to be.

  He’s also a big wuss, not much in the working out department and as such not the sort to show off his physique so he doesn’t have a lot of fitted clothes. Add to that not assertive, no good at picking up women, bad at holding his liquor and shit at doing much other than sitting around playing video games and you’ve got my stellar roommate. Boring as a stump.

  But dumb and easily manipulated and probably has something I can wear.

  That’s priority one.

  I check out myself in the t-shirt, spinning and looking at the full view. The shirt comes down to the tops of my thighs but it’s probably fine, so long as I don’t reach up high or move to quickly or take any long steps he’s not going to see anything.

  I check out myself from the back and lift the hem of the shirt. Sure enough just an inch or two is enough to see the bottoms of my ass cheeks.

  The sight alone is enough to bring back some familiar old feelings. Damn I’m hot.

  I turn to catch the front as well and see my hard nipples standing firmly up through the shirt.

  Oh god not now. I can’t do this no or I’m going to go back down a rabbithole I won’t ever likely get out of.

  I drop the hem of my shirt, give it a quick 360 to make sure nothing is visible, and then head out of the room before I get anymore bad ideas.

  My roommate is sitting in front of the TV watching something and eating breakfast. I come up behind the back of the couch, so he can’t even see me from where he is.

  I need to do this now before I lose my nerve.

  “Hey,” I say, my voice unintentionally far more sultry than I had planned for.

  I see him jump a bit in his seat at the unexpected company, and then he turns.

  His jaw drops almost instantly, though that’s about what I expected given his history with women.

  I’m a knockout and I’m standing almost naked in front of him.

  Girls had put me in this situation before, sidling up all sexy, wrapped up in one of my shirts and about to ask for a favour. I’d always found it hard to say no, and I was the sort of guy who had plenty of opportunities to sleep with hot women.

  My roommate, with his history with women, would be putty in my hands.

  That’s the crux of my plan, use a little bit of the power I have available to convince him to help me. Of course that was the extent of my planning, I hadn’t actually figured out how I was going to manage this.

  “Hi,” he says, his voice more than a little squeaky.

  I have to stifle a giggle as I respond, “Morning, um…”

  It’s about then that I realize that what I haven’t figured out was how to explain away my presence.

  I say the first thing that comes to mind, “So I was… um… here last night with your roommate and when I woke up I realized I couldn’t wear my clothes anymore and none of his clothes fit me so I was wondering whether you might have anything I could wear?”

  “Oh,” is all he can say, and I can see him trying to avoid looking me up and down, “No problem I think I might have something that would fit you. Come on.”

  He walks out of the living room and heads towards his bedroom. I follow.

  I’d never been in his room before and to be honest I’m not entirely sure what I’d expected. Probably figured it would look like a typical teenagers room, a mix of posters of video games and hot girls a layer of clothing on the floor and an underlying scent of uncleanliness. Basically an extension of the rest of the apartment.

  Instead I find a perfectly neat room, mature even. Some paintings on the wall, a bookshelf organized alphabetically, bed made and floor clean. Hell it even smells good.

  It is unexpected.

  He goes to the closet immediately, opening the door and rummaging through it to try to find something for me. As he looks he says, “You must be something special.”

  “Why is that?” I ask, sitting on the bed.

  “Nothing it’s just,” he stops for a moment trying to find the right words, “My roommate doesn’t bring many girls home. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him bring a girl home so I’m sure if he brought you here then that must mean something, whatever it may be.”

  I almost want to laugh, that’s so cute he must be trying to help me out. Still gotta shoot this down as quickly as possible, can’t have something like this ruining my reputation, “Nope, nothing special. Just fucking. We were both clear about that.”

  “Oh,” he says, returning to searching through the closet, “That’s too bad.”

  “Too bad?” she says, “Why is that?”

  “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

  “Hey now,” I smile, “Don’t be shy. Why is it too bad?”

  “Nothing it’s just…” he stops for a moment and sighs, then without turning and looking at me says, “Well it’s just that you’re gorgeous and I think you deserve more than just fucking.”

  I giggle a little, “Why more than that? Fucking is fun!”

  “Yes,” he says nodding his head, “It is. I just think that… well I just think that if I had the opportunity to be close to you I’d want more.”

  He returns to the closet and continues looking. We are both silent for a moment.

  He speaks again after awhile “I’m sorry I’ve overstepped my bounds.”

  “More what?” I ask, quietly.

  “Sorry?” he says, looking over his shoulder.

  “More what?” I repeat, “What would you want from me?”

  “More than just sex,” he says, his voice dead serious, “Intimacy, quality time together. Something more like…”

  “A relationship?” I ask incredulous, “You don’t even know me.”

  “No,” he turns back to the closet, “I don’t know you but I have a sense about you, and I’m pretty good about that sort of thing. I’ve got a feeling that you’re a good sort of person. The sort of person I’d like to spend more time getting to know.”

  I watched him for a bit, seeing him search for me, for this girl that he doesn’t even know. I saw him going out of his way for her, and I saw more.

  I saw his body, working away under his shirt. Saw the definition of his muscles, subtle and not showy but definitely there. I saw the hard line of his jaw in profile, saw the cool of his deep blue eyes as he glanced at me from time to time.

  I swallowed.

  “How exactly would you want to get to know me? Where would you take me?”

  “I don’t know,” he says, “There are so many options and really it would be up to you. It would be up to what you like best. I know a place, really nice restaurant where the head chef owes me a couple of favours and would be more than willing to swing me the best table in there. He’d talk me up too so it would make me seem good to you.”

  I giggle at that.

  “If art is more your style there is a gallery showing some of my friends are doing. It would mean a fancy night out so we’d have to dress up. I’d love to see a woman as gorgeous as you in an elegant dress.

  “I would do whatever you want to do. It would be all up to you.”

  I recline on the bed, leaning back on my elbows. My breasts stand pert and firm, nipples hard under the thin fabric of the shirt. The shirt rides up my legs, pulled up so it almost reveals everything underneath it, almost shows how wet I suddenly am.

  “What if I just want fucking?” I ask, my voice smoky with the heat of arousal.

  “Then I would give that to you too. I would fuck you and spend all of my effort making
sure that you came and came hard, harder than you ever had before.”

  “A tall order,” I say.

  “Oh I’m the determined sort. Once I set my mind to something I won’t stop until it’s done.”

  He stands, clutching a pair of shoes in one hand and a bundle of clothes in the other. I don’t notice them though, no my attention is focused on the sizable tent in front of me. He’s huge, bigger than I was or at least so it seems, long and thick.

  “Oh my,” is all I can manage to say.

  He smiles a bit sheepishly at that, then shrugs and says, “Sorry, what can I say there is an attractive woman wearing only a t-shirt lying on my bed.”

  There is a moment now, a brief moment where my mind starts arguing with itself. In spite of the obvious reactions my body was having, in spite of the driving need I was feeling, the rational part of my brain had to go ahead and remind me that I was a guy. That I was a guy and I shouldn’t be feeling this way. That I was a straight man who liked women.

  I shouldn’t be looking at him like this.

  But I couldn’t help it. It was pounding at me, like a throbbing headache, this potent need to be filled by him. This powerful need to lose myself under his body.

  Fuck it. What’s the worst that could happen?

  “So, if me in a t-shirt is giving you this reaction,” I say, teasing, “What if I was wearing even less?”

  I peel myself off the bed, standing before his towering frame. Reaching down I grab the hem of my shirt and in one movement sweep it up and over my head. I let it fall to one side and stand before him.

  He doesn’t waste any time.

  He drops the clothes and the shoes and wraps his arms around me. His mouth meets mine and crushes against my lips. We work at each other like we’re starving and this is our only means of sustenance. There is a palpable sense of need, so unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

  I feel him, above me and on me and around me, the weight of him, his bulk, his ungiving firmness. When we met my hands were crushed between us, palms out pressing into his pecs and feeling the wide flat strength of them. I slip my arms up, pulling them out of the space between us and let them drift around his neck and then lock on him, pulling him in towards me. I don’t want to let him go.