A Day in the Park (1)

A Day in the Park (1)

Inspired by the Role Exchanger universe created by Morpheus

* * * * * * * * *

It was a beautiful spring day at Idylwood Park. The temperature was at that perfect point that allows the sun to feel hot while the shade is deliciously cool. A number of people were strolling, picnicking, enjoying the playfields, or just sitting and watching the scene. There was also an unseen alien presence hovering above, observing the activity with a curious . . . well, not exactly eye, but with an awareness that included vision as well as an empathetic sense that allowed it to feel something of what the people below felt.

This alien was an emissary of a far off race that had evolved toward an optimum, nonphysical form. Each member of this alien culture was very nearly identical to every other in size, shape, and even thought. Sex had been left behind as procreation became unnecessary. No death, no birth, the aliens had evolved into a stable society with a near constant balance of resources and energy use. Each individual performed as an integral part of a functional whole. It was an efficient society, providing security and direction, and it had allowed their race to develop superhuman abilities to manipulate the material world even as they evolved beyond it.

They had long ago learned to use the equivalence of matter and energy to manipulate their world and modify their environment, being limited only by the basic laws of physics. They could easily transform and transmute without violating the conservation of energy, but the creation of matter required an extremely powerful energy source.

Yet even at this pinnacle of evolution, there was still a need for more, a need for purpose, a need to further understand the meaning of existence. Observers were sent to explore the Universe, to conduct research and amass data that would explain the meaning of life and its ultimate purpose. Any bit of information gathered by the observers might be instrumental in making the next evolutionary step - a step that couldn’t even be imagined without more data.

The observer who hovered above the park was especially curious about the differentiation of the beings below. It had traveled distances unimaginable to human minds and had encountered many life forms. All of them had shown the same tendency to evolve toward an optimum form. None had reached the advanced level of the observer’s race and most were primitive forms that would never achieve true consciousness, but all had reached an optimum form that dominated their environment to the exclusion of all else. On world after world the observer found that an optimum form meant the end of evolutionary development. The implication for the observer’s own race was troubling.

Of all of the beings it had observed during its travels, only the human race showed an advanced degree of intelligence together with a bewildering variety of shapes, colors, thoughts and traits. These differences were baffling to the alien, were they merely non-optimum aberrations, or did they confer some subtle evolutionary advantage? Research would be needed to answer these questions, experimentation might reveal much, and perhaps help could be given to the weaker individuals.

* * * * * * * * *

A couple at the tennis courts provided an example of the differences so common among the human race. Ron had played football and basketball in High School and even at 30 years old he still looked athletic with 220 lbs on his well muscled 6’ 4” frame. At 5” 2” and 107 lbs, the attractive woman across the net was less than half his size. Cyndi, Ron’s wife for almost 3 years, was a good tennis player, but was overmatched by Ron’s size and strength. They enjoyed the exercise, but both were often frustrated by the mismatch. Cyndi wanted to win a few games while Ron wanted a real challenge that would allow him to explore his limits and improve his skills. The observer could sense these desires and decided to perform an experiment.

“That’s a point for me!” Cyndi exclaimed, as Ron hit an off balance stroke into the net.

“I was distracted by some kind of flash” Ron explained.

“Not the old sun in the eyes excuse, I hope?”

“No, really, there was some sort of blue flash . . . maybe a camera?”

“Well, I didn’t see it.”

Cyndi was slightly annoyed that Ron couldn’t let her have even one point without making an excuse. As she walked back to receive the next serve she suddenly realized that her shoes were too tight and bent to adjust the laces. As she reached down, her wedding ring also felt painfully tight. Twisting frantically, she just barely managed to get it off, thankful for a dab of sweat that helped it slide over her swollen finger. She put the ring in her pocket and limped to the sideline to remove her shoes and socks. She looked at her feet with a puzzled expression, how could they suddenly look so big? Sitting on the bench, it was difficult to realize that her entire body was rapidly growing larger.

Ron had watched with curiosity and then concern as Cyndi left the court. He stumbled slightly as he walked over to the bench, his feet slipping inside shoes that suddenly seemed too loose. He also noticed that the net seemed higher than it should, as though he had somehow gotten shorter. But that was just silly; it had to be some sort of optical illusion, right? His concern for Cyndi pushed the net to the back of his mind and kept him from noticing his rapidly shrinking body.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, my hands and feet are swollen” Cyndi said apprehensively. “I barely got my ring off. Maybe it’s an allergic reaction?”

She looked up at Ron and something about him seemed a bit off, but she was too worried about her apparent allergy for his loss of height to really register. Should she ask Ron to take her to the emergency room? Cyndi had heard stories of people dying from a single bee sting. Cyndi gasped as her sports bra began to cut into the flesh under her arms and she quickly tugged her tank top and bra over her head.

“What are you doing?”

“It was cutting me in two!” Cyndi exclaimed. “Give me your shirt so I can cover up.”

Ron was shocked that his wife would bare her chest in public. It was also disturbing to see how broad her shoulders looked and how thick her arms had become. When had Cyndi bulked up? Ron was certain he would have noticed a change like this, but he couldn’t remember her doing any extra weight training. What was going on?

Puzzled and concerned, Ron pulled his shirt off and was further surprised at how large it felt. It was an old favorite that had shrunk a bit from too many wash cycles. He distinctly remembered that it had been a bit snug across the shoulders that morning, but now it felt loose and floppy. He shrugged and handed the shirt to Cyndi who quickly covered herself and frowned at Ron.

“You look . . . odd . . .” She said, “you seem . . . smaller?”

“What?” Ron didn’t know how to reply to such a question, but then realized that his shorts were slipping down his hips. This was crazy, he was getting smaller! And he couldn’t believe how well Cyndi filled out his Lakers T-shirt. A sudden realization rocked him like a right cross.

“Cyndi, you’re not having an allergic reaction - you’re getting bigger!”

Cyndi’s mouth fell open as she realized Ron was right. She stood and looked her husband in the eye. This was impossible, how could she suddenly be as tall as Ron? And it wasn’t only her height, she was definitely much more muscular than she’d been just a few minutes earlier. Her feet looked huge now and her hands were as big as a man’s.

“Oh god, this skirt has got to go.” Cyndi squirmed as a new pain nipped at her waist. “Use your windbreaker to make a screen – hurry!”

Ron spread the windbreaker and tried not to think about the fact that he was now looking up at Cyndi. His mind whirled and he trembled as he watched Cyndi peel the skirt and panties over hips and thighs that were impossibly large. There was a small ripping sound as a few of the overstressed stitches came apart. Ron felt dizzy at the thought of his usually reserved wife exposing her ‘unmentionables’ in a public park. What was going on? How could Cyndi be growing? How could he be shrinking? "This is impossible; it must be some kind of weird nightmare!" he thought.

“Let me have your shorts.”

Ron realized that Cyndi was noticeably taller than him now. He felt embarrassed when he looked down and saw that his shorts had fallen around his ankles. Even his briefs were barely hanging off one narrow hip. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as Cyndi followed his gaze and realized she was looking down at Ron. This was unreal, he was so short! And his briefs looked sort of silly hanging there so precariously.

“I guess you should give me your briefs, as well.”

Almost in shock, Ron let the briefs join his shorts, stepped out of them and then handed both up to Cyndi. Up to Cyndi! She was so tall now that Ron had to crane his neck to look at her face. He stared in amazement as Cyndi adjusted the briefs and pulled up the shorts. There was a little extra space in front, but the briefs and shorts fit reasonably well on Cyndi’s new waist and hips. Ron completely forgot that he was now standing naked, except for shoes and socks, on a tennis court in a public park. He stood motionless, mesmerized by Cyndi’s changed appearance. She had to be at least six feet tall and she was so muscular! He’d never been this close to such a big woman, and he had certainly never had to look up to one.

“You’d better put something on.” Cyndi said as she handed him her skirt and panties.

“But, I . . . I can’t wear these . . . things.”

“There isn’t anything else, unless you want to tie that windbreaker around your waist.”

Ron suddenly went bright red, he’d never felt so exposed and vulnerable. He quickly put on the panties and pulled up the tennis skirt that had looked so cute on Cyndi. He still didn’t feel comfortable, but at least his stuff was covered up and not hanging in the breeze. Ron didn’t say a word as Cyndi handed him her top so he could complete the ensemble. Cyndi had good fashion sense and always dressed well, but he felt like a freak in the white tennis outfit with its pink accents. He couldn’t decide which was more bizarre, that he was wearing Cyndi’s clothes or that they actually fit pretty well. It was strange to have Cyndi towering over him, but his shorts and T-shirt fit her almost perfectly. He stumbled again as his feet slipped around in the shoes that now felt more like shoeboxes on his feet.

“I guess we’ll have to trade shoes, too” he sighed.

A few people had noticed the strange commotion, but it was over in just a few minutes and the windbreaker had hidden most of the juicy stuff, so no one called the cops. Still, there were stares as the petite man in the cute tank top and skirt pulled on anklets and tied the laces of what were obviously women’s tennis shoes. There were even more stares for the Amazonian woman in the Lakers T-shirt as she put on her men’s size 13 sneakers.

“What do we do now? How could we change size so drastically? I want to go home and change out of these clothes.” Thoughts flew through Ron’s mind like a whirlwind.

“Change?" The word triggered a thought in Cyndi's mind, " more like an exchange if you ask me.” Cyndi stood next to Ron and made a rough measurement with her hands. “I think we’ve traded sizes. You’re the same height I used to be and I’m as tall as you used to be. I have your muscles and you have mine. My clothes seem to fit you and your clothes fit me.”

“But how? It’s not possible!”

“I know it’s not possible, but here we are. Either we’re both insane or it actually happened.” Cyndi thought for a moment. “There’s not much point in going home to change . . . unless you’d prefer another one of my outfits. I’d like to play some more tennis. I don’t know how I got this body, but I’d like to try it out before we change back.”

“Are you sure we’ll change back?” Ron asked hopefully.

“Probably . . . maybe . . . who knows?”

Ron was reluctant, but Cyndi was determined to try out her new body. He tried to say no, but somehow found himself agreeing to play. The new Cyndi was so imposing that it just felt natural to go along with whatever she wanted. Ron’s size had always kept him from feeling physically intimidated, but he felt a little apprehensive now. He was acutely aware of his new vulnerability and found himself hoping that Cyndi would act like a gentleman. Gentleman! Using that term in reference to Cyndi would imply – no, better not follow that thought.

Ron sighed again as he grabbed his racket and realized that his smaller hand wouldn’t reach around the grip. He smiled ruefully and switched rackets with Cyndi before walking back onto the court. Cyndi flexed and stretched her new muscles and tossed the ball a few times to judge her new reach. She didn't get the release point quite right and struck the ball a little too high. The serve whistled past Ron's head like a bullet. He couldn’t suppress a wry smile as he quietly said “long”.

“I guess I don’t know your own strength!” Cyndi giggled. The second serve was closer but still too hard and bounced well beyond the service line”.

“Love – 15” Ron called bravely.

Cyndi just grinned and moved to the other side of the court. She was thrilled at the way her new muscles felt. Swinging Ron’s racket felt like waving a feather, and she could see the entire court from her higher vantage point. This time she found the proper release point, her form felt perfect, and she knew the serve would be in. The angle, directly to Ron’s forehand, should have given him a good opportunity for a strong return. He was in position, but the racket felt so heavy that his swing was a little late. Ron gasped as the rocketing tennis ball wrenched the racket out of his hand. Cyndi tried to suppress a smile as she watched his dismay. It felt good to have the upper hand for a change!

Ron’s face reddened, this was humiliating. Well, he wouldn’t give up without a fight! Ron quickly learned that he had to get into position early, squeeze the grip with much more force, and get his whole body into each swing. But even when he got everything working, his shots weren’t deep enough and didn’t have enough pace to move Cyndi out of position. Cyndi had an easier time adjusting to her new size and strength and Ron didn’t win very many points. She was easily able to reach every shot Ron made and return it with enough pace to run him ragged. Ron just couldn’t get enough on the ball to make Cyndi work. Point after point she used her superior strength and longer reach to push him out of position and then rip a winner past him. Cyndi won every game and Ron got more and more frustrated.

“Please, can we stop now? I don’t want to do this anymore” Ron had had enough.

“Oh, sure . . . I’m sorry” Cyndi replied as she finally realized how difficult this must be for Ron. She felt a little guilty because Ron had never rubbed it in when he won. He had always held back when they played, and even though it had seemed patronizing, she now saw that he had meant to be kind.

As Cyndi walked back to the sideline a glint of gold caught her eye. Ron had set his now too-large wedding band on the bench during the exchange of shoes and Cyndi picked it up and put it on. It was no longer a surprise to see that it fit snugly on her finger. She remembered that her ring was in the pocket of Ron’s skirt and asked him to get it out.

“This will probably fit you now.” Cyndi took Ron’s hand and slid her wedding ring onto his finger. As she expected, it fit perfectly. “With this ring, I thee wed. I guess you’re the wife now.” Cyndi smiled at Ron’s expression of horror.

Ron felt a chill as he looked at the very feminine wedding set that graced his left hand. “That’s not very funny.” Ron’s objection had no real force behind it though, and he didn’t remove the ring. It actually looked sort of nice on his newly petite hand. Still, that didn’t mean he liked his new image.

* * * * * * * * *

The observer had exchanged Ron and Cyndi's physical size, altering their reality with an experiment that required virtually no energy input. The results were informative but inconclusive. The two had merely continued their previous activity, so the observer saw no need to change them back. The one surprise was the apparent importance of clothing and the human's inability to modify them. The observer decided that more data would be required to learn about size.

* * * * * * * * *

Other changes were less obvious. An older couple strolled slowly through the park, stopping occasionally to note a pretty spring bloom or to smile at the toddlers who reminded them of their grandchildren. The woman stopped at a park bench and looked a question at her husband. With an ‘after you’ gesture he joined her in sitting down to rest for a bit. The observer could sense that they had been together for many years, and were very close, yet there were also conflicting desires. An experiment might help. The old man pulled a pipe and a tobacco pouch from his sweater pocket, ignoring, as usual, the sniff that indicated she didn’t really like this habit. But today, instead of lighting up, he just looked quizzically at the pipe as though it were suddenly unfamiliar. His wife reached out her hand and, with a shrug, he gave her both pouch and pipe.

A young woman on the next bench had been smiling as the adorable older couple approached and sat down. Her smile turned to shock as she watched the old woman expertly fill and tamp the pipe, cupping the bowl with one hand as she applied a match and puffed the tobacco alight. It was less dramatic, but almost as surprising when the man reached for his wife’s large handbag, pulled out needles and yarn, and started knitting. The two sat on the bench for some time, the old woman smoking her pipe with obvious enjoyment and the old man knitting contentedly (He did sniff now and again to show that he didn’t really like her habit but, as usual, she pretended not to notice).

The young woman had never seen a woman smoke a pipe and stared openly, forgetting her manners. She was certain that the man had intended to smoke, his body language had been obvious, but then something had happened. It was almost as if the couple had suddenly switched habits, but how could that be? The young woman puzzled over the strange event for a long time but never did connect it to the blue flash that had barely registered when the man first pulled out the tobacco pouch.

* * * * * * * *
Proud parents Tim and Angela were pushing a brand new baby carriage. Emily had been born three months earlier and this was her first visit to the park. She had fallen asleep in the car and Tim joked about her lack of excitement as Angela transferred the sleeping infant to the carriage.

“Let’s not go too far” Angela said tiredly. “I didn’t get much sleep last night and I don’t feel up to a long walk.” Angela believed in breastfeeding and Emily was waking her up every three or four hours to eat.

“You know you could pump and put some milk in a bottle. Then I could get up with her and let you sleep.” Tim felt slightly guilty as he looked at her tired face, but Angela didn’t want to put Emily on a bottle just yet.

“It’s sweet of you to offer, but I feel like breastfeeding is the right thing for now. Besides, you have to get up and go to work every day. It wouldn’t be a good idea for you fall asleep and get fired.” Angela knew Tim wanted to help and she would gladly accept it, but Tim just wasn’t equipped for this part of parenthood.

After a few minutes of strolling Emily began to make gurgling noises. The observer could sense the hunger of the infant and the feelings of fatigue, guilt, and love from the adults. This would be a good opportunity for another experiment. The observer had been surprised by the difficulty that Ron and Cyndi had experienced with their clothing and decided to take a slightly different approach this time.

“Oh, she’s waking up. I’m sure she’ll want to eat” Angela could feel the pressure in her full breasts and knew that feeding Emily would be a relief for both mother and child.

“We can sit over there, that bench is sort of secluded” Tim knew Angela was still a little shy about nursing in public. Tim led the way but paused near the bench to tug at his shirt. The blue polo was roomy enough, so why did it suddenly feel tight? Tim squirmed as the feeling grew stronger; he soon had the sensation of something wrapped tightly around his chest. It wasn’t really uncomfortable, but it felt weird to be confined. He could feel a wide strap going around his torso and two thinner straps over his shoulders. Then there was a feeling of pressure building in, and on, his chest. He felt a tingle of sexual energy as first his nipples expanded and then his breasts swelled out. In less than a minute they completely filled the cups of the bra he was now wearing. At the same time his shirt changed color and shrank to make a slimmer fit. Tim looked down and was shocked to see a pink blouse stretched across an impressive set of breasts. The breasts heaved up and down as he gasped for breath, and they jiggled as he pulled back in shock. Tim poked a finger against one and then the other, they seemed real and they were attached to him!

“Tim, what happened to your shirt?” Angela asked as she approached with the baby carriage. Had somebody spilled something on his back? Angela hadn’t seen anyone, but she didn’t understand how Tim’s shirt could suddenly change color. His blue polo was definitely pink now. And it didn’t really look like a polo either, the fabric was smoother and the sleeves were different. It looked more like a woman’s blouse. It looked like her blouse!

“What in the world!?” Angela gasped as she looked down at the blue polo shirt she was now wearing and realized that the pressure in her breasts was gone. Her bra was also gone; in fact, her chest was completely flat. Angela had been distracted by Tim's change and hadn’t even noticed the loss of her bra or her own breasts shrinking away to nothing. It looked like she and Tim had completely swapped chests, even including clothes. She gingerly felt her flat hard pecs and the tiny nubs of her new nipples. What was going on?

“Angela, I have breasts! . . . .I have breasts!” Tim seemed to be in shock, repeating himself several times.

“Hey, it’ll be alright. Sit down for a minute.” Angela guided him onto the bench. “Tim, calm down. You do have breasts, in fact, I think you have my breasts. You even have my blouse and bra.” Angela stared at Tim's hands and arms, his entire upper body seemed to have changed to fit the feminine top he was wearing!

Tim lifted his new breasts and felt the maternity bra through the thin fabric of the blouse. Slowly he looked over at Angela and saw that she was wearing his blue polo shirt! For a moment, Tim felt relieved. It was somehow comforting to know that he wasn’t the only one going crazy.

“I have your shirt and you have mine. It’s like we traded somehow.” Tim looked more closely and saw that there was even a bit of chest hair peeking out from Angela’s neckline. Not only that, but her shoulders seemed wider and her arm and hands were bigger. “How could this happen? What do we do now?”

Just then Emily began to cry in earnest, needing to be fed. Tim felt a strange achy sensation as his breasts began to let down his milk in response to Emily’s cry..

“I guess you’ll have to feed her.” Angela said. “I don’t seem to have the necessary equipment anymore.”

“What? You expect me to . . . .? I’m a man, I can’t . . . .!” Tim stammered and blushed, but quickly realized that he would have to man up, or rather woman up, and feed his daughter. “How do I . . .?” Tim started to fumble with the buttons that were on the wrong side, but let his hands drop as Angela helped him open the top of his blouse. “Now what?” Tim asked, feeling embarrassed that anyone who looked over would be able to see his bra.

“See this little clasp? Just pull it and the front of the bra will open.” Angela demonstrated and Tim’s embarrassment increased tenfold as his swollen breast was exposed to the world. The sight of his large dark nipple wasn’t entirely unexpected, but there were drops of milk oozing from it! This just wasn’t right, men weren’t supposed to lactate! He quickly grabbed Emily’s blanket and draped it strategically over his shoulder as he had seen Angela do many times before.

Angela lifted Emily out of the stroller, handed her to Tim and helped him cradle her head against his breast. Emily eagerly accepted Tim’s nipple, seemingly undisturbed by the change of venue. The pink blouse, the maternity bra, and the full breast were familiar and reassuring. Tim gave a contented sigh as his milk flowed and relieved the pressure in his breast. Emily sucked hungrily on Tim’s nipple and he felt a pleasant, almost sexual sensation. In a few moments he was relaxed and semi-erect, his embarrassment completely forgotten.

“This actually feels kind of good.” Tim remarked softly as he smiled down at his daughter.

“I know” Angela replied. “Just keep that in mind when she wakes you up tonight at 2:00 am.”

“What, I have to get up with Emily?”

Angela paused for a moment and thought about what this change would mean for them both. She could sleep again and Tim would have to get up to nurse. Tim could deal with achy breasts and be chained to the baby. She could go to work, go shopping or even go out of town and not have to worry about being back in time for the next feeding. “Until we change back, you’re going to have to take care of feeding Emily.” Angela said with a note of triumph. Let Tim take a turn for while!

“Angela, when will we change back? Things like this are impossible, how did it happen anyway?” Tim could feel that Emily was finished on one side so he carefully put her over his shoulder to pat out a burp. After a good healthy belch, Emily was ready for round two. Angela didn’t answer right away, but pulled a small pad out of the diaper bag and gave it to Tim as he laid Emily down for a moment.

“Here, put a fresh liner in. It protects your bra if you leak between feedings. Trust me - you do not want to wear a bra that smells like spoiled milk.”

Tim changed the pad, closed one cup, and opened the other so Emily could finish. “But I don’t want to wear a bra at all. How long is this going to last? I look ridiculous, I’ll be a laughingstock!”

“I don’t know Tim. I don’t know how or why this happened. I’m not sure I even believe it, but I do know that I love you. I think you look incredibly sexy, and I can’t wait to get my hands on those breasts in bed tonight!”

* * * * * * * *
“Jason, put that snail down, it’s dirty!” Anne called out, but her 6 year old son just ignored her. “Would you please correct your son?” she asked her husband Mark, “he just ignores me.”

“He knows ya ain’t serious” Mark replied. “Ya need to pump it up, put a little edge in it. Let ‘im know ya mean business. He hears me cuz he knows I’ll swat ‘im if he don’t. It sounds like a lullaby when ya yell.”

Anne winced a little at her husband’s poor grammar. As an English teacher, she was especially aware of how important language could be. Mark was actually a good father, his infrequent ‘swats’ were barely more than a tap on the bottom. He was a hard worker, an attentive husband and Anne loved him deeply. Still, she often wished he would learn to speak properly and give up his habit of using coarse language. In this case, though, he might have a point. Her clear soprano voice wouldn’t ever sound threatening, not with her usual restraint and careful diction. Maybe she should be a bit more firm with her son.

Anne was distracted for just a moment by a flash of blue light before shouting “Jason! Put that down, now!” She was startled at the way it came out. It was almost like hearing her voice over a PA system, and it had sounded too deep as well as too loud, sort of masculine . . . sort of like Mark’s voice? Mark must have shouted over her, Anne thought, and couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed or grateful. At least Jason had put the snail down, reacting almost instinctively to his father’s voice. It was strange how Mark had said exactly what she was thinking.

“That was weird . . . “ Anne began, but stopped when she heard Mark’s voice again. This was really getting annoying. How was he able to anticipate what she was going to say and then interrupt her before she said it?

“What the fuck are ya doin’?” She demanded angrily, turning to confront Mark..

“Language, please.” Mark chided. “We don’t want Jason to pick up on that kind of talk”.

Anne stared in astonishment. She had seen Mark’s lips moving, but heard a woman’s voice. She was almost as surprised to hear herself mumbling an automatic “Sorry”. She knew Mark didn’t like her to curse, but stress sometimes brought it out. No, wait, she didn’t curse! Mark was the one who sometimes had a foul mouth. What was going on?

“What’s wrong with my voice? It sounds so strange, did I breathe helium or something?” Mark’s mind raced as he tried to find an explanation for what was happening. He’d heard a man’s voice yell at Jason and then Anne cursed at him with the same voice. He realized that her voice had changed, but somehow it was the cursing that bothered him the most. He’d always taken pride in speaking properly and with restraint, it annoyed him when Anne used bad language. Wait a minute, Anne was the one who was prim and proper, wasn’t she?

“Fuckin’ A” rumbled Anne. “I think we swapped voices!”

“Please, watch your language.” Mark was horrified at the delicate soprano tones coming out of his mouth, but couldn’t seem to do anything about it. He cleared his throat and tried to lower his voice, but gave it up after a few hoarse rasps. It was true! He had Anne’s voice!

“Oh, Anne, this is just terrible. Not only do I have your voice, but I seem to have your speech patterns as well. I simply can’t go to work speaking like this, I’ll be a laughingstock with the other men.” Mark’s lilting tone of dismay was almost comical, coming as it did from such a masculine looking guy.

“How d’ya think I feel? This is a hell of a note! I’ll get canned if I talk to the kids this way.”

“Mommy, you sound funny”

* * * * * * * *
Sara tried to clear away the picnic things, but it wasn’t easy with a four year old tugging at her arm and a two year old wrapped around one leg.

“Scott, could you clear up? Or at least entertain the kids so I can do it?”

“Now sweetie, that’s your department. Besides, this ball game is kind of interesting.” Scott looked around for his cigarettes. “Would you pass me my smokes, hon?”

“I’d rather you gave them up, especially around the kids.” Sara objected weakly, but reached for the pack anyway, not wanting to start another argument.

Scott had been raised in a traditional rural environment and his chauvinistic attitude could be infuriating. He and his brother had grown up doing ‘outside’ work with their father while his sisters had done housework with their mother. He still had the attitude that men harvested and women cooked, men raised livestock while women raised children, and men made messes for women to clean up. Sara knew the little league game was only a convenient excuse. Scott just didn’t want to be seen in public doing ‘women’s work’. It was so unfair, as if having a penis somehow made him a superior being!

The observer sensed Sara’s frustration and felt her sense of injustice. Perhaps it would be enlightening to turn the tables.

“Oh . . , what was that?” Sara was startled by a blue flash. Suddenly felt as if a gust of wind was lifting her up and stretching her out. For a moment her skin felt too tight; then the feeling moved south and grew stronger between her legs. She had an odd sensation of passing something from of her vagina and instinctively spread her legs to relieve the pressure. She couldn’t understand how, but Sara somehow knew that her clit was growing longer and thicker. She could feel it pressed tightly against the fabric of her panties. Sara groaned as her organs shifted and then a pain in her pelvis as it contracted and took on a different tilt. She felt two distinct pops as testicles dropped from her groin and then her vagina closed around them to form a scrotum. The pressure increased for a final few seconds and Sara felt her new penis become erect, almost painfully hard. Reaching down, she adjusted her panties to make more room and gasped as the freed member tented her skirt. Touching her hard-on was like nothing Sara had ever experienced. She desperately wanted to come, but realized that this was not the time and reluctantly released her grip. “But just wait until tonight” She promised herself.

“Oof!” Scott felt like someone had jabbed his stomach and knocked the wind out of him. He felt almost paralyzed as he struggled to draw a breath. An invisible force seemed to be squeezing him all over. The pressure grew stronger between his legs, and Scott had a distinct sensation of muscles clenching in his groin. It was sort of like doing a Kegel exercise, but it went on and on until the sensation was completely inside of him. It felt as though his body had sucked in his prick like slurping a spaghetti noodle. Then Scott felt a pinching sensation as his nuts were also pulled into his body cavity and then disappeared. For a moment Scott thought it had stopped, but then there was a brief sensation of pressure, followed by a feeling of looseness as a vaginal opening formed and spread. Scott didn’t know how it had happened, but he was acutely aware that his prick was gone. Scott fought back tears, the emptiness in his pants felt so wrong. It just wasn’t fair and he wanted his prick back!

“Scott? Are you OK?” Looking over at Scott, Sara was surprised to see him holding his stomach, with tears in his eyes. Her macho Scott was crying?

“My stomach hurts! I think something kicked me.” Scott’s usually strong voice sounded kind of whiny.

“Don’t be such a pussy!” Sara said, “Nothing’s broken, there’s no blood, you’ll be fine.” Whoa, where had that come from? Sara could hardly believe she’d just called Scott a pussy. Even more unbelievable, Scott was looking at her with a hurt expression, lips quivering, and still blinking back tears. Sara instinctively reached out and drew Scott into her strong embrace. She kissed his cheek and pulled his face into her shoulder. She didn’t know where it had come from, but she felt a new sense of confidence and strength.

“Hey, sweetie, it’ll be alright. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” Sara held Scott for a moment and then stiffened. What was going on? When had she ever had to comfort Scott? And why was he cuddling into her like a little girl? She moved back a little bit and looked at Scott more carefully. He seemed smaller somehow, as though he’d lost weight. Scott was 5’ 10” and his construction job kept him at a muscular 180 pounds no matter how much he ate. Now his face looked thin and his whole body looked almost slender.

Sara was even more shocked as she realized her own arms looked big next to Scott’s. Sara was only an inch shorter than Scott, but 40 pounds lighter. At least she used to be lighter, now her whole body was thicker and more muscular, much larger than she had been a few minutes ago. How could this be? Confused, Sara stepped back and felt an unfamiliar shift in her panty. Suddenly she became acutely aware of the 9 inch prick that was too tightly confined in the silky undergarment. It was throbbing again from the feel of holding Scott in her arms, this thing definitely had a mind of its own!

“Wow, you look . . .ripped! When did you start working out?” Scott stared at his muscular wife. At 5’ 9” and 140 lbs, Sara was bigger than average, but with womanly curves that Scott had always enjoyed. Now she looked like a fitness model, but with generous breasts and hips. Broad shoulders expanded her tank top and her biceps bulged when she folded her arms. Scott wondered how he could have missed such an obvious change, it must have taken weeks to develop calves that large. Then he looked at his own arms and almost fainted. Where had his muscle gone?

“Sara, what’s happening to us? You’re huge and I look skinny! It’s like we traded muscles somehow” Scott sounded almost frightened. “And. . . I . . . I . . . my penis is gone!”

“I think you’re right.” Sara said slowly with dawning realization. “We did switch muscles.” She didn’t seem nearly as upset as Scott did. “And that’s not all - we switched our private parts too.”

“You mean . . you . . .you have . . . ?” Scott looked stunned.

“Yep, I’ve got your prick and I already have a hard-on. I can’t wait to get you home.” Sara almost leered. “Hurry up and get this stuff put away so we can go home and put the kids down for a nap.”

“Please, not in front of the kids!” Scott was shocked at her bold words, but he also felt a little pleased that he had this effect on Sara. He started picking up and packing as Sara sat down and reached for the cigarettes that she had dropped earlier. Scott just shook his head as she tapped the pack, pulled out a cigarette, and lit up. He knew that he’d have to pack up the picnic and the kids while Sara just sat and smoked.

* * * * * * * *