The Interchangeables (Erotic Body Swap)

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There was no answer. I hung up and rung again. No answer. That was to be expected - it wasn't his phone, after all. I rung a third time, and then a fourth, and then a fifth. Just as it went to the answer phone message for the fifth time, it was answered at the other end. There was a few seconds of silence. Watching the mirror intently when I could, I slowly pulled my top over my head, until I was wearing nothing but panties. My tits fell out, bouncing as they were released, even though they hardly sagged at all. I threw the top on the floor and grabbed my tits again. My palm had brushed over my nipple, which hardened straight away. A bolt of pleasure, much more intense that I'd ever imagined you could get from just a nipple, zipped through my body. I let go of my tits and started rubbing my nipples. I raised a hand, and at the same time, she did in the mirror. I looked at my hand, and had a double-take - my skin was brown. A bold, light shade of brown, the same (obviously) as Arifa's. The change in skin tone had less of an effect on me than the change in gender, but it was indescribably weird to have changed ethnicity over night.

So far as I could see, his house was much bigger than mine - at least, it was a house rather than a flat, with more than one floor. His bathroom was bigger too. I took in a deep breath. How long would this last? A day? A year? For the rest of my life? I had long since decided that it was way too real to be a dream. The thought scared me, so I focused my mind on the task at hand.A poorly worded wish sees two college guys switched into their female crushes and having to live their lives. I opened my door and looked warily out. I realised I didn't have any idea who lived in his house, or what his normal morning regime would be. I was willing to bet it wouldn't involve make-up. Sure enough, there was a shower. I was unsure of what to do, like a deer caught in headlights. I forced myself to think straight. Shower. You do that every morning, easy. Just have a shower. I reached inside the cubicle and twisted the knob. Water came spurting out. See, that wasn't so hard, was it? Okay, as normal as possible then. Just be there in half an hour." I furiously hit the hang-up symbol, before instantly feeling bad. He was just as scared as me, maybe more so judging by his reaction. I swung my legs around over the side of my bed, and slowly stood up, making sure the dizziness didn't affect me too much. I felt so tall, so precariously balanced, like I would topple at the slightest breeze. She laughed again. "Okay, well I washed the outfit you wanted for today, it's in the bathroom for after your shower."

It was the hair that I noticed first. The pressure on my shoulders had always been light, but in its absence it was suddenly drastic. I reached up, again feeling too long and heavy, and found my hair. It was too curly, and way, way too short. My first thought was that one of my brothers had cut it in the night, but it was more than that, it was a different feel, a different style. My left hand now slipped two fingers inside my pussy. The combined pleasure of the two seemed to complete me. I felt my body build up, and my fingers began to go faster, getting ready for orgasm. I almost went to aim somewhere, before remembering that I was no longer a guy. That sentence no longer seemed to bother me, I was so completely in a haze of pleasure. At this my tiredness vanished. Where the hell was I? More importantly, how had I got here? I stood bolt upright, and nearly fell over. Why had I stood up so much faster than normal? I suddenly realised that I was feeling a body that was completely out of proportion. I had shrunk, that was why I had stood up so fast, because I was shorter. My arms and my legs felt stubby, and I was slimmer, too, except - For the purpose of simplicity, I've made the gender-related words (e.g., his/her) describe their personalities and inner selves, not their physical genders. A man in a woman's body is referred to as "him", not "her".

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Except he wasn't quite a stranger - he was Sam. That boy from my year, loud, always laughing. Brown hair, curly. Tall, quite muscular. White. And male. I was holding some clothes under my arm - boxers, a red chequered shirt that I'd seen him wear a few times and some jeans. I stared at the shower nervously - should I skip a shower? But no, I smelt of sweat, I needed the shower. His shower was part of a bath, so I had to reach my arm round to turn it on. My arms were a lot longer than I was used to, however, so I could easily reach it. I flipped it on, and pulled away before it could spurt water onto me. Short Story Writing | Writers | Read Online | Writing Contests | Writing Software | Writing Journals | Writing A Book | Writing A Novel