I woke up feeling someone slapping me on my cheek. As I opened my eyes I saw a man looming over me, “Wake up, wake up, wake up! Give me back my body you S.O.B!” the man yelled at me. “Get off me! What are … “ I started to say, but before I finished my hand flew to my mouth. My voice sounded completely wrong, it sounded like a woman’s voice and my lips felt strange, like they’d somehow gotten thicker. The moment my hand touched my face I felt long nails brush my face far beyond what I was expecting. I pushed the guy off of me. As I did so I felt an assault of strange sensations from all over my body. “What is going?!” I asked, feeling almost hysteric. I looked down and saw enormous mounds of flesh pushing form my chest.
My hands looked completely different from what I was used to, they were long, elegant and feminine, capped by brilliant, red nails that extended a good half inch past my fingers. There was long black hair cascading from my head that fell on my face with the slightest movement. My skin was also much more tan than my usual pasty white complexion, I could even see some faint bikini tan lines on my sizable tits and calling them anything but that would not have really been an apt description, they were tits, not just boobs. There was what I figured must be a black dress wrapped around my torso, but it had hiked down so that my boobs swung free – I couldn’t see a bra anywhere and the obviously modified breast probably didn’t need the support anyways. It was odd to try to look further down with those tits in the way, but it took only a moment to confirm that that there was a moist crevice between your legs instead of what a teenage boy would have there.
Before I could continue my exploration I started to notice the room around me. It looked like a large, upscale room, and I was in the middle of large, possibly king sized bed. The sheets were strewn about, and someone had knocked over some of the lamps and other furniture in the room. There were some heels on the floor, along with what looked like an animal print thong and a man’s suit jacket, pants, shoes and I noticed a tie hanging from a lamp. As I continued to look around me, trying to make sense of what was going on I heard the man who’d been on top of me sobbing. I looked over and he was on the floor where I’d thrown him in a fetal position, sobbing. To say it was a strange sight would not be out of line, but since I’d somehow just become a woman I didn’t exactly know what to do.
“Uh, sir, what’s going? I’m sorry I threw you, I don’t know what’s going on. I didn’t mean to hurt you, sir, I was just scared.” I told him, feeling sorry I made a grown man cry. “Sir?! I’m not a sir! I’m a woman … or at least I was … just give me back my body, please!” The man pleaded. “Your body?’ I asked, instinctively trying to fold my hands over my ample chest protectively. “Yes, that’s My body and I want it back!” she replied, whipping a tear from his face and pointing at me. “Uh, I don’t know how, I’m Nick Donnelly, I’m was at my high school, I blacked out and the next thing I knew I was here, I was in this body and you were on top of me,” I explained. The man looked up at me, still shaken, but a bit calmer than before.
“I’m Christy, I … I’m an escort …” he started to explain as he got up and sat on the bed. My eyes shot wide open, ‘I’m in the body of a prostitute!’ I thought in alarm, inching away from Christy as she sat on the bed. “Me and this guy,” she continued, gesturing to the man’s body she had been switched to, “had been going at it,” she gestured to the chaotic room, “he was playing with my tits, I was on the bed, he was on top, then I blacked out and the next thing I knew I was in his body.” Christy looked up and she must have noticed that my eyes looked like saucers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you when you woke up, I … I … it’s not every day you switch bodies with some guy, you know?” Christy said apologetically.
“Yeah, I know, it’s not every day I wake up in the body of a pros… an escort,” I replied, correcting myself, I looked at her and I saw a look of … was it shame, pain, anger? I felt bad, Christy was as much a victim of whatever this was and I just kept doing and saying the wrong thing. “Hey, look, I don’t know what’s going, this is nuts, but we’re in it together, so I think we should stick with each other and try to figure it out,” I offered. It was still so very strange to hear that feminine voice when I spoke and my new lips felt so odd. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. This is Tony’s place,” Christy said, gesturing around, “and this was Tony’s body,” she said gesturing to her male body.
The man she’d become seemed to be in his late 40s or early 50s, with the look of a man fighting hard to stave off the signs of old age. She had large, defined muscles and an even more obvious fake tan than your own. There were some flecks of grey in her close cropped, professional looking hair and her skin had the tight look of someone who’d dabbled with Botox injections. She had a strong, chiseled jaw and the angular features of a man who might have been a quarterback in his younger years. “I think we should stay here while we sort this out,” she suggested.
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