Loading...I’m Sam. Or at least I was.
I woke up to the sound of an alarm. I’m not sure why I didn’t notice at first that something was up, but the only light was a crack in the window curtains and that was on the usual side of my bed. The alarm was a different tone, but my mind was groggy from having just woken up so it didn’t register. I sat up, and flicked on the light switch for the lamp to my left. I had to stretch slightly further than usual.
The room filled with light and I clenched my eyelids shut, shielding my eyes with my hand. It took about ten seconds for them to adjust enough for me to be able to look around my room.
No. This was not my room.
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 –
No.
No way.
I had boobs.
I had boobs. Breasts. Tits. Whatever you could call them, I had them. I gazed down at the two lumps that I could feel hanging off my chest (I say hanging, they hardly sagged at all). My hands reached up and lightly cupped them, and I felt the response instantly – they were part of me. Being a guy (or so I thought), it didn’t take me long for my worries to turn elsewhere, and my hand shot straight down to my crotch. My dick was gone. I choked with panic, plunging my hand down the front of my shorts. And, as my soft, new hand found my soft, new vagina, I barely registered any wave of pleasure as it was drowned out by a wave of shock.
My eyes darted around the room, looking for a mirror. I saw one straight away – it was a very typically girly room, complete with mirror for make-up. I bounded over to it, stumbling again from being in the new body. I glared into it, and right back at me glared Arifa.
What the hell?? Arifa?? She was a girl, in my year at college. I’d never been close to her, hardly even talked to her, and when I had it had always been in a group, a general conversation rather than an intimate one. So why the hell was she in my mirror?
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.
I looked back into the mirror, in a sort of daze. Arifa – sorry, I, had medium length black hair, slightly wavy, and brown eyes. My body curved in a very feminine way, in at the stomach and out again at the hips. On another girl it would have been sexy, but seeing it move as I did made me feel sick.
I stood there for a few minutes, taking shallow breaths and feeling very faint. I turned around to get back to bed, but ended up spinning faster than I’d intended. I spun a full 360, my vision swam and I had passed out before I even hit the floor.
*****
I’m Arifa. Or at least I was.
My eyes opened slowly to the sound of an alarm, but it was a different alarm, harsher than I was used to. I reached over for the light switch, but missed it entirely and banged my fingers on the wall. The switch seemed closer than usual, and my arms felt clumsily long. I finally found it, and as I flicked it on the room flared up with light.
I winced as my eyes grew accustomed, but before I had even opened my eyes I knew that something was wrong. The bed felt different, and so did I – my limbs seemed to ache, as if they were too long and heavy. I sat up, and as I did my head was thrown into dizziness. For some reason, it felt like I had further to go than usual. Had I had a growth spurt in the night?
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.
Before my eyes had even fully grown accustomed I realised that the room was wrong too. It had less colour, and less stuff on and around the walls, although more mess on the floor. The clothes were less colourful too, clothes (I realised as my eyes became normal again) that I didn’t recognise. Men’s clothes.
And then I felt the dick.
It was not just the pressure against the fabric from my hard-on, but the sensation too. The tickle of my underwear was sending shivers of pleasure up my spine, a similar pleasure to that I used to get from my clit. I looked down and realised that I was topless, andwearing boxer shorts – then soon forgot that when the idea that I had a penis began to settle in.
I slowly undid the button on my boxers, and the dick pushed through. It was an average-sized dick, but thick and hard as a rock. As I touched it, it gave an involuntary twitch and sent shivers through my body.
I was shocked, beyond words, but I didn’t freeze. I looked for my mirror but saw none. I spotted an iPod touch on the side, so I grabbed it, slid the unlock key and went straight to camera. I flipped the screen around, and the face of a stranger flipped onto the screen.
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 Sam. Okay, I was Sam. Logically, then, Sam would be me. I looked around the room, and luckily it didn’t take me long to spot his phone. I held down the button on the top, and it turned itself on. After a few seconds it asked for a pin code, and I started to panic, but I tried 1234 and it let me straight in. I mashed in my own mobile number, and started to dial.
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.
“Hello?”
It was my voice. It sounded weird over the phone, but it was my own voice. That came as a big shock – a bigger shock than anything else, for some reason. I had no idea why I was this calm. Except I don’t think I was, I think I was deeply in shock, and it was just buried deep inside. Perhaps showing itself in a different way.
“Sam?”
My voice wasn’t majorly deep, but compared to what I was used to I felt husky and rough. There was a dead silence on the other end, except for heavy breathing. His voice came back faint. “Who is this?”
“This is Arifa. I’m you and you’re me.”
His nervous swallow was audible over the phone. “What happened?”
“How the fuck should I know? We need to talk. Meet me in the common room at college. Now, before others get there. Act normal.”
“Act normal??” His voice
“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.
Clothes were strewn around the floor. I wasn’t sure what was clean and what was dirty – but, as I recollected, it didn’t matter, they were my body parts now. I stooped down to grab a pair of boxers, and nearly fell over. The rest of the dressing I took much more slowly, until I was clad in jeans and a plain black t-shirt.
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.
*****
I heard the beep on the other line, and lowered the phone to the floor that I was lying on.
I felt faint – unsurprising, really, considering I had just fainted. I sat up gingerly – just as well, considering the change in height. I remained still, breathing deeply, supporting myself on my short, thin arms.
There was a knock at the door and a woman stuck her head round. I stared at her. She looked like I now did, but slightly older, and with longer hair. She laughed. “Hey sis, what’re you doing on the floor?”
My throat felt dry. “Just… Sitting.”
She laughed again. “Okay, well I washed the outfit you wanted for today, it’s in the bathroom for after your shower.”
“Thanks.” Shower and clothes, simple morning routine. She left as I pulled myself upwards. I realised I had no idea where the bathroom was, but when I opened the door the room opposite had it’s door open, and I could clearly see a toilet. I looked warily side-to-side, and slipped through.
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?
Now I had to undress. I stared down at the lumps on my chest warily. Suddenly I had tits available to me, whenever I wanted, and nobody to protest. No strings attached. My state of shock began to drain out of me. I cupped a hand over one of them, and gently squeezed. They were quite big, and perfectly shaped. Soft, but firm. But what surprised me most was the response. The squeeze sent a shiver of pleasure running through my body. I reached my hand up to the other and squeezed them both at the same time, immersing myself in the feeling. I looked at myself in the mirror – Arifa was weird, everyone knew that, but there was no denying that she was hot.
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.
After a minute or two, I began to feel a dull aching between my legs, and a thin bead of moisture trickling down my leg. I was getting wet. The thought was strange, but acted as an instant arousal. I wasted no time, pulling down my pants and stuffing a finger inside me.
There was a pang of pain, I hadn’t expected that, but my pussy instantly loosened slightly to account for it. What was more noticeable was the rush of ecstasy. It felt amazing. Not necessarily better than wanking with a dick, but completely different. I felt it inside me, not just on the inside of my pussy but deep within me too, a throb that was like the world’s most pleasurable stomach ache. My pussy was perfectly shaved, completely smooth – this body clearly wasn’t a virgin one. I replaced one finger with a second, going more slowly now to deal with the pain. I let out an involuntary moan, and it came out higher pitched than I was used to. I felt suddenly very feminine, but just looked back into the mirror and imagined I was watching porn.
I stepped into the shower, letting the water cascade over me as my left hand played with my nipple while my right slowly worked in and out of my pussy. I moaned again as the lubrication from the shower played with my nipple’s sensitivity. Looking into the mirror, I stopped playing with myself, picked up the soap and rubbed it all over myself like a porn video. But, fun as that was, I soon began to miss the fingering and so went to carry on. As I slid my hand down, it rubbed across an area of sensitivity – my clit. A pang of pleasure, much more similar to the pleasure I got from my dick but far more intense, shot through me like a bullet.
Forgetting the fingering, I furiously rubbed at my clit – before stopping straight away. I gasped as the sensitivity shocked me like electricity. It was intense pleasure, but too intense for so much. I resumed, but slowly and gently this time. My moans increased.
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.
The orgasm wasn’t sudden – it had been building up for a while – but it still took me by shock, just because it was so difference. Instead of the climax I was used to, a rush of pleasure, a spasm and then relief, it was much more long-term. There was a ‘finish’, of a kind, but it just kept coming. My fingers were pumping like crazy, and my body was in complete ecstasy, but it just kept coming. My moans were loud now, only barely drowned out by the roar of the shower, and I was in a complete spasm. My hands eventually slowed down, and the bliss began to ebb away. Soon I was left standing there, panting, feel my whole body humming with a post-orgasm glow.
I turned off the shower and stepped out, nearly slipping from the still-unaccustomed height. I saw myself in the mirror – I was soaking and tired, and yet still so hot. I was tempted to start again, but something snapped me back into reality – I had to go meet up with Arifa. I rubbed the towel over my hair for some minutes, and eventually decided that I would just leave it damp. I rubbed dry the rest of my body, taking an extra long time on my tits.
I spotted a pile of clothes. A black lacy bra, matching panties, a black cotton skirt and a tight black top with the logo to some obscure band. Suddenly I had an idea. I unlocked her phone, which fortunately needed no pin, and went onto the camera. Striking up my most provocative pose, I turned to the mirror and took a snap. Grinning to myself, I rested the bra on my boobs, and struggled for a minute with the strap. Eventually, I got it to click into place – I then pulled the panties on. The lacy underwear was undeniably sexy. I unlocked her phone again, and took another snap. By the time I had got dressed, I was feeling very pleased with myself.
Warily, I pushed open the door. What should I do now? Just as I was deciding, Arifa’s sister walked past again. Now that I was more relaxed (and horny), I noticed how attractive she was. She smiled at me.
“Dad’s had to go to work early – your breakfast is on the table, you can eat it on the way.”
I decided to go over the top. “Thanks, sis!” I said with a beaming smile. She just laughed, with a bemused expression on her face. I smiled to myself – this was going to be fun.
*****
I slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
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.
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.
I swallowed, before pulling down my boxers. I was already semi-erect, and thinking about it only made it grow harder. I felt it grow harder, this thick cock attached to me. I blushed a deep red, and screwed my eyes shut against this too-weird sensation.
I took a deep breath, and forced myself to open my eyes. I had to face this. I stared down at my dick. It looked just like in a porn film, but it still weirded me out. I tentatively reached up my hand and wrapped it round my dick. It bucked involuntarily, and I felt a twitch of deep pleasure. Without thinking, I slowly began to stroke it up and down, before stopping straight away – what was I doing? This was an invasion of his privacy! I couldn’t do that.
I jumped into the shower and covered my face with water. The lack of hair tickled my neck, but under the water I soon got used to it. Gradually the water helped to ease the panic away. I had been rational, but now I was calm.
I groped for a bar of soap, before realising that he had a liquid dispenser. I squirted some white cream onto my hands, before rubbing it into myself. I rubbed over my armpits, cringing slightly at the armpit hair that I wasn’t used to. I lathered myself in soap, my torso, arms, legs, thighs, everywhere but the dick. Then slowly, hesitantly, I rubbed the lather onto my rock hard dick. Again, it gave a small buck, and I felt how good the lubricating soap felt against it.
The head of my dick throbbed with the pleasure of the foreskin rolling over it, like playing with my clit, but it was a deeper, more wholly pleasure than that. I rubbed my soapy hand up and down along the shaft, occasionally caressing the head with a slippery finger. It felt so wrong, and so weird, but at the same time so good. My rubbing increased, until I was going at it fast, breathing in time to the steady noise of soap against dick.
As my pace increased, my hand began to slap lightly against my balls. To avoid any pain, I reached a hand down and held onto them. Instantly my dick strained backwards and a wave of pleasure rolled into me. I squeezed lightly and another wave hit me – not individual pleasure, just adding to the pleasure I was getting from my dick. I pumped harder, gently putting pressure on my balls in time to it.
After a few minute, I began to feel a sensation that felt as if a ball of energy was building up in the head of my dick. I continued to pump, and the ball grew, so that my dick automatically clenched to hold it back. I kept going, the feeling getting more intense, until I was twitching and bucking under the pleasure. I held it in as long as I could.
Eventually I could hold it no longer, and I reached climax. Huge drops of cum were pumped out of my dick, draining all my energy. My body went into spasm and I moaned, a deeper, more masculine noise than I was expecting, as I was filled with pleasure. My dick continued to throb, throwing out drop after drop of sticky white cum. I moaned again with each one, until the cum had subsided and the energy had all seeped out of me.
A sudden wrap on the door startled me, and a female voice came through. “Sam, stop wanking and get out of the shower! I need to go to college too, you know.” I flushed bright red. Sam’s sister, Katie, also eighteen and yet younger than him by eleven months. They were close, you always saw them in the same group. I’d never got the chance to speak to her before now.
I punched off the shower and stepped out. Grabbing a towel on the side, I hurriedly rubbed myself over, socked at how easily my shorter hair dried. After a few minutes I wrapped the towel around my waist and stepped out.
I had to remind myself that I had no boobs, and being topless wasn’t a problem, but I still felt exposed. Katie raised an eyebrow at me. “Every morning? Really?” She laughed and squeezed past me into the bathroom. I hurried back into Sam’s room, red faced. I had to get some clothes on.
I opened a drawer in his chest of drawers, but found t-shirts. I opened the one above it, and found boxers – but that wasn’t all. Along with boxers there were two boxes of condoms, a roll of tissues, some porn mags and a dildo. A dildo. Black, and very long. I almost laughed. I didn’t know Sam enjoyed receiving anal. In fact, I thought it something that only girls did.
I picked up a porn mag. Did people still use these, what with all the internet porn that was available? I flicked through, checking out all the different men and women who featured. Then, as I turned to the second last page, a photo fell out.
I picked it up and nearly squealed. It was of Katie. Naked. It had clearly been taken through the glass of the door to the bathroom, without her knowing. He was drying her hair, and her nude body was arched, pushing her beautiful breasts forwards. It looked like something out of a professional magazine, if not for the crap camera quality. The photo aroused me, but I was still offended at the invasion of her privacy. I slipped it into my pocket, deciding to throw it away later. A small voice in my mind warned me against interfering, but I pushed it away.
I placed the mags back where I found them, pulled out a pair of boxers and closed the drawer. I carefully stepped into my boxers, making sure not to fall over. They felt too baggy, too open. I quickly pulled jeans on over the top to tighten up, but I still felt too exposed. Out of instinct I went for a bra, before catching myself and just grabbing a top. It was a plain grey t-shirt, but I didn’t really care about looking my best. My chest, too, felt exposed, from the lack of a bra, but I just shrugged the top into place and tried to ignore it.
I desperately racked my brains for anything I might have forgotten. Luckily, his school bag seemed already packed, so I grabbed that and went out. I walked slowly, very deliberately putting one foot in front of the other so as not to fall. Pretty soon I got used to it, but I still payed close attention to where I was going. I had no idea where I was, but I got out Sam’s phone and went onto maps. I typed in the name of our college, and a blue line appeared instantly showing me where to go.
It was some time before I got to school, so I assumed Sam was gonna be there. I walked up the ramp to the front of the school, turning right to go to our year’s common room. I scanned the room, for some reason looking for Sam, before my eyes settled on my own face. My own body was sitting across the room from me, staring at me intently. I swallowed and walked slowly towards him.
He gave a grimaced, pained smile. There was something in his eyes – fear, shock, even anger, but on top of that… Joy? Triumph? That’s what it looked like, knowing my own face. It was uncanny how well he pulled my faces.
I had pictured a scene where we would sit down and discuss it. We would rationally talk over what was happening, how we would deal with it and when it would go away. However I forgot two things. First, rationality had gone out of the window at this stage, clearly shown by his grimace. Second, Sam was a dick. He had always been a dick. So I should have seen it coming, though for some reason it shocked me deeply. Maybe I thought that fear would somehow bind us together.
He opened his mouth, pulled a twisted grin on my face and said: “you have nice tits.”
My mouth opened and closed like a drowning fish. I think it unnerved him slightly, seeing the shock on his own face, but that only drove him on. As he was lifting up my phone I decided he was simply reacting badly from the shock, and I would forgive him. Until I saw the naked photo of me.
He must have taken it this morning! Anger flared up inside me, and I barked, “prick!” as I grabbed for the phone. Somehow I didn’t make it though, and he jumped up, with surprising skill for someone in a different body. I, however, over-balanced, so by the time I had got up he was already showing the photo to two guys sitting there.
I watched in despair as the three of them leering over the photo, the two guys thinking that this random girl, this slut, was showing them a nude of her. Rage burned within me, and I stalked up to join them.
“You think that’s good? Take a look at this.” I dove a hand into my pocket and pulled out the photo of Sam’s sister. I slammed it on the table. “How hot is my sister?”
From the second I saw the combination of panic and loathing on my own face I knew I had been stupid – but what could I do? I had to teach him a lesson, didn’t I? The two audience members to our secret feud goggled at the photo, before looking at me in a mix of awe and disgust. I felt a rush of victory. Sam glared at me, fixed. I met his gaze with a cold stare and, seeing that he was incapable of a come-back, stalked out of the room to my first lesson.
—–
I was fuming. Who did she think she was? A small part of my brain knew that I had started it, and had been a dick, but she had crossed a line. My sister would hear of it for sure, and I would slowly die of embarrassment. I had to get back at her, I knew I had to make her pay – and I had control of her body, I could do what I wanted. I could commit a crime, get her arrested!
No, that wasn’t good enough. I wanted her embarrassed, like she made me. Completely embarrassed. That same small part of my brain told me not to let things escalate, but I was blind to any of that. She was a stupid slut and had to be punished. Yeah, she was a slut. And I would show the whole school.
I didn’t bother checking what class I was supposed to be in. I stormed up the stairs, but slowed down after nearly tripping. I walked round the school over to the science rooms.
A few months ago, one of our teachers, Mr Edmunds, had been involved in a serious case about teaching sex-ed “inappropriately”. Everyone knew he was dodgy, and he’d been made to sit through a very serious tribunal, but in the end he had got away with a warning. His classroom was half-way down the corridor. I approached it, and got out Arifa’s phone. I went onto her camera and selected video. I started the record, held it hidden behind my back and knocked on the door, praying he didn’t have a class for the morning.
He opened it a crack, and then fully when he saw who it was. Apparently he had taught Arifa before, because he seemed to recognise her. He was almost fifty, but looking very good on it. He had salt-and-pepper hair, short, and loosely shaved stubble. He wasn’t buff but he was strong and square-shouldered. I gave him a smile that I imagined to look flirtatious. “Hi, sir,” I purred. My voice was shockingly sexy, and I was loving it.
“What can I do for you, Arifa?”
I wandered past him into the classroom. I lent back against a desk cluttered with stuff, and slipped Arifa’s phone onto the surface. “Oh well, I’ve got a free-period…” I left the sentence hanging. Meanwhile I carefully nudged the camera around so that it was pointing at the direction I felt would capture the most of the classroom.
“Need to ask me some questions?”
I had imagined a porn-like scenario playing out in my head, maybe sucking for good grades, but I just thought, fuck it. I walked up to him and rested my hand on his crotch.
I would never identify with being gay, and maybe not even bi, but I had often been curious. Never enough to try it with a guy, barring a kiss at a club, but now was my chance. I was surprised at how nice his hardening dick felt in my hand, and how aroused it made me.
I pushed him backwards so that he was sitting on a chair, his profile splayed out directly in front of the camera. Looking deep into his shocked face, I slowly undid the button and flies on his jeans. He gave a short gasp as they peeled back to reveal a bulge in his boxers. I tackled with this next button, only allowing myself to break eye contact and look down once his dick was out.
I felt a surge of several emotions at once. A rush of confidence, and even arrogance, as I realised that my dick was (used to be?) a good three inches longer than his. A rush of fear as I realised I was touching my first dick, aside from my own – and it was a teacher’s. A rush of guilt for Arifa, which was soon repressed and replaced my my overriding emotion – a rush of excitement. I grabbed the short, hard dick and began to slowly rub up and down for the camera.
Mr Edmunds gave a half moan, half squeal of pleasure. I looked back at him and sighed, “Oh Mr Edmunds.” This was too much for him, and he let out another, louder moan. I watched my wrist intently, trying to get a flowing wrist movement going.
I lowered myself to my knees in front of where I knew the camera was pointing. Gazing up into Mr Edmund’s eyes, I slowly lowered my head down towards his dick, my heart pounding. My lips touched the pulsing head of his dick and I gave a gentle kiss, feeling Arifa’s soft lips run perfectly across it. Mr Edmunds gave a quiet whimper, so I kissed it again, this time opening my mouth more. For the third kiss I used my tongue to softly flick the very tip of his dick, and he shivered with pleasure.
“Are you ready, sir?” I tried to put on my best porn-star voice – I expected it to sound dumb but somehow Arifa’s voice just seemed to melt into it. My own voice sent shivers down my spine, accompanied by another thrill when I thought how good that would have sounded for the camera.
Mr Edmunds gave a stammered “yes,” but I had already plunged my face forwards. His dick was small but somehow it still seemed to fill my mouth up. I wrapped my lips over the base of his shaft and gave a gentle suck. I wasn’t sure that you were actually meant to suck, but his twitch and squeal of pleasure was enough to convince me that it had been a good idea. I drew my head back, tracing pleasure lines with my tongue across his veins. I pushed forwards again, and began to get into a rhythm. With each push of my lips Mr Edmunds let out a short, strangled gasp of pleasure.
While my mouth was busy, my hands tugged down and pulled his jeans down to his ankles. My hands then drifted back up, running along the insides of his legs until they had reached his boxers. His dick was through the hole in the boxers so I couldn’t pull them down, but they were quite baggy so I reached a hand into his leg hole. My fingers found his balls and I wrapped my hand around them. I began to gently squeeze them in time with each downwards thrust of my head. Mr Edmunds’ dick began to twitch in my mouth, and I knew he was nearly there.
I was wondering whether I should swallow, but then decided that it wouldn’t look good for the camera – although for some reason I desperately wanted to taste his cum. Instead, I pulled down the neck of my top, exposing Arifa’s amazing tits. I pulled my mouth off his dick and began to pump again with my hand. I felt it bulge, so I tilted back and aimed it at my chest.
Mr Edmunds’ dick exploded. Long ropes of white cum splattered all over my tits – one was far-reaching enough to land across my chin. I kept pumping until he was done, until he lay panting and moaning in his chair. He lifted his head and looked at me, so I flashed him a grin and ran a finger across my chin, wiping up the cum. I held eye contact as I slowly put my finger in my mouth and sucked it off. It was salty, and surprisingly warm.
He collapsed back as I stood up. I grabbed a sheet of tissue (it was a science lab, after all) and wiped the cum off my tits, admiring them as I did. Mr Edmunds was still in a state of shock, so I had no need to worry about how I was going to get the camera. I walked out, swiping it and hitting the “stop record” button as I went.
My whole body was alive. I was buzzing with the excitement of it all. I decided to go find a toilet and get myself off. Maybe I’d film that, too.
Before I did, I got the video – nine minutes of sucking – and formatted it to text message. I punched in my own number, and sent it to Arifa. Picturing her reaction, my mouth spread into a wide grin, and I headed off for a bit of relief.
*****
I was going to ignore the message until I saw that it was from my own phone.
Geography. It was such a dull subject. I had no idea why Sam had picked it, but he had and so I had to sit through two hours of it. Still, the teacher was dopey, so I could easily check my phone during class.
I had a sense of dread as I opened it. What could Sam want? I slid the bar across, opening the message. It was a video, I could see that. I pressed play and started to watch.
I was confused at first, but the second I heard my voice murmur “hi, Sir”, in a voice that was recognisable but somehow different, I knew what it was. I watched with growing horror as on the screen I could see my own hands pulling open Mr Edmunds’ zipper and pulling out- oh God. I wanted to stop watching, but I had to know whether Sam had gone all the way. I ran the slider across the screen, zooming through the video, but I remained on my knees throughout. I guess it was a blessing.
I felt sick even before I received Sam’s next text. A second message simply read, “Could get me 100 from pornhub”.
I furiously tapped out a reply, asking him to meet me. I excused myself rom my lesson, without even having to pretend to be feeling sick, and ran down the stairs as fast as I could without risking falling over. He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the door to the toilet we’d just been in, with a sneer stretched across his, my, face. He held up the phone and shook it in my face.
“Hey, Sam. Did you know, I’m a huge slut? I’ve got evidence, look!” His voice was mine, but it was twisted, mocking. He laughed at my sickened expression.
“I’ve filled out the necessary form. One click and it’s on pornhub.” I couldn’t know for sure if he was telling the truth but it was certainly open on something, and anywhere that the video was sent to would fuck me up. I couldn’t even bear to think about it.
“Yeah, that’s right. This is only gonna last a day, this twisted voodoo shit, I can feel it. But I’m gonna keep the video. I’m gonna upload a copy. So when we switch back, you’ll be mine, bitch. You’ll be mine to do with as I please.”
He had no way of knowing that it would only last a day, but just looking at him told me that he’d clearly gone mad. It was my face, but the eyes that stared at me were different. He had lost it. And it was hardly surprising. It’s not something most people have to deal with, body swaps. I almost pitied him.
“You’re gonna fuck me. You’re gonna suck me. You’re gonna dance for me, whenever I want. Hey I like anal, maybe we’ll try that too. Whatever I want, slut. Bitch. Cunt.”
The last three words stirred something inside of me, and any trace of pity was replaced by rage. Blindly, I lashed out with a half fist, and the phone went flying from his hand. He flinched backwards and let go of a tiny, involuntary whimper.
In a flash, the balance of power had suddenly changed. He had had the advantage the whole time – he had my body, and in society, especially at college, a girl’s esteem is much more fragile to break than a boy’s. And yet I had the physical advantage. Sam clearly worked out regularly, so he was strong and muscly. His body was a good bit taller than mine, too. Seeing my own body, cowering in the corner, made me fully realise what power I had over him.
I grabbed Sam and stuffed him into the toilet. He yelped and stumbled inwards. I grasped his frail, female body and shoved him into one of the cubicles. Bending his over the toilet, I put my lips next to his ear. “You wanna play rough?”
I had always had fantasies of being dominated. I had done light bondage with an ex-boyfriend before, but I’d always wanted to take it further. I had previously spent hours alone, touching myself to the idea of submission to a guy, and even on one or two occasions to a rape fantasy. And now I was watching it happen. I was playing out my own fantasy on myself, and what’s more it came with the sweetness of revenge. My mind was wild with anger, fear and excitement as I growled those four words.
I ripped off Sam’s top (it was one I had always disliked) to expose a smooth, dark body with a black, lacy bra. I had been taking bras off every day for the past seven years, so in under a second the bra was gone and his breasts had fallen out. I reached round to grab them, squeezing them hard enough to give a pang of pain on top of the sensitive pleasure that I knew would come. I lent my whole weight on him to pin him down, loving how strong I was in his body.
From an objective viewpoint, looking at Sam and thinking of it as just a form, I was hot. Gorgeous shape, perfectly shaped boobs and a butt that, from behind, perked up at me and begged to be fucked. I cringed at my own narcissism, but I couldn’t deny it – I had one sexy body.
I lifted one hand off his boob and slapped his bum, hard. He gave a little squeak of pain that turned me on even more, and as my hand went back to his boobs I felt a raging erection pressing against my jeans. The feeling was weird, very different to what I was used to, but it felt so good rubbing against the inside of my trousers. I was filled with an insuppressable desire to rub it, to pleasure it, and I suddenly understood why guys were so sex-obsessed. The hormones that were raging through my body seemed to focus my entire being around my bulging dick.
Of course, this went against everything I stood for. I hated rape, I hated sexism, I hated guys who thought of nothing but fucking. And yet I was so fuelled by rage, and my the confusion of my female mind with male hormones, that it went out of the window. Still pressing down on him, I reached my right hand back down to my crotch. Sam was struggling quite a bit, and whimpering, but the small body felt so weak and fragile compared to my bigger one. I wasn’t used to jeans, so it took me a few seconds to undo the flies, but they soon peeled away to expose the bulge in my underwear. I undid the button for those too, and whipped out my dick.
It felt heavy in my hand, and the feeling of skin and cloth against it further egged me on. I roughly pulled up his skirt to expose lacy black panties to match the bra. Sam whimpered again, and said something, a beg of some kind, but I wasn’t listening. I took out Sam’s phone, and went onto the camera. Selecting video, I pointed it at my own face and pressed record.
“This is me, Sam. I’m about to rape Arifa. This is my fuck-tape.” I swivelled the camera around so that it was capturing my dick poised just behind Sam’s pussy. I let go of him with my other hand so he attempted to get away, but again the sheer force of me on top of him pressed him down. With my hand I pulled the panties aside, exposing a pussy that I’d only ever seen from above. Despite everything, it was glistening wet.
My whole body was tingling with anticipation as I lined my cock up to his pussy. I lightly prodded my dick into it, before letting go, grabbing Sam’s waist and ramming myself in.
It didn’t go as smoothly as I expected, and I inwardly winced at the pain that I knew he must be feeling. Sam half screamed, mostly from the shock of it. I blanched, but the film that he had made or Mr Edmunds sprung into my mind, and any pity vanished. On top of that, any thoughts were driven out by the sheer pleasure. The hot, tight pussy clamped around my dick, pressurising and pleasuring it in a million different places at once. My moan was almost as loud as Sam’s scream as a shock of sensitivity tore through me.
I buried myself as deep as I could go and held it there. After a few seconds I pulled out almost entirely, but straight away thrust my dick back into Sam. I began to pound him, just as hard but also picking up speed. I heard myself making involuntary grunts and moans in time to Sam’s cries. My balls slapped against him with each thrust. I pushed Sam’s phone back into my pocket, and used that hand to slap his bum, before reaching over again to grab one of his boobs. It felt perfect in my hand, soft and perky and so arousing. I pinched the nipple lightly, and felt a shudder go through his body.
So he still got some pleasure. I was furious at him, but somehow that turned me on even more. I reached my second hand round and found his clit, and began lightly stroking it. I lessened the hardness of my pumps, although still keeping them hard enough to slap my balls on him. His panting deepened and his cries seemed more breathless. I began to rub his clit in circles, in time with my thrusts and my nipple pinching. I knew exactly what would pleasure him most, just because it used to be my body. I circulated my thrusts so as to brush against the G-spot. He moaned, and for the first time I felt that it was more pleasure than pain. I began to regulate my pumps, making each one more flowing and smooth.
His pussy was beginning to loosen, and although he was clearly reluctant to admit it, I was definitely giving pleasure. I gave an extra pressured rub on his clit, and a spasm of pleasure shot through his entire body. The spasm included a clenching of the pussy, and it squeezed my dick as I let out a loud moan.
As I pounded his pussy, I looked down to admire his ass. I’d enjoyed anal with a couple of guys, and so always kept it clean and shaven. With the repeated thrusting into his pussy I had stretched his butt cheeks out, revealing a perfectly round hole.
I had been fucking him straight for about ten minutes, so decided to go for it. I took my hand away from his boob and spat on it, before rubbing it onto his asshole. He realised what I was doing, and bucked in protest, yelling out “No!”
I ignored him, pushing my fingers partially in him to lube up the entrance. It gave way easily, so I felt it was loose enough for my cock.
“You said you liked anal, yeah?” I spat at him. He whimpered in apprehension. I pulled out of his pussy, positioned my dick so that it was pointing at his ass, and slowly thrust forwards.
The ass wasn’t virgin but it was still unbelievably tight. It clenched onto my dick in a way that his pussy never did. Sure, the shape wasn’t as good, and I couldn’t go as fast, but the tightness was on a whole other level. As my dick was slowly enveloped by his ass my whole body was fired with ecstasy. I moaned with pure pleasure, and then so did Sam. He was definitely enjoying this one, as I had done before.
I slowly began to pump in and out of him. He was still struggling against me – it was weaker than before, though whether that was because of seduction or because he physically and mentally couldn’t keep it up, I don’t know. I was too lost in the testosterone to care. His ass began to relax, so I increased my speed, angling it upwards to the place that I knew had felt good for me. His high-pitched pants intensified.
I wanted to keep fucking it forever, but I felt a funny feeling, which I realised was my balls tightening, that alerted me to the fact that I was close to cumming. I wanted to cum in his pussy, like I’d always imagined a guy would do to me if I was on his end, but his ass felt so good. I continued to pound him, my grunts and his moans becoming synchronised, as I felt a ball of what could only be cum building up in the head of my dick. The feeling was intense, and more so every second. I began to clench my muscles to try to drag it out further, sending my whole body into spasm.
I pounded his ass until I felt I could go on no longer. I forced him down, pulled out my dick and rammed it into his pussy. The warmth and the wetness and the varied shape instantly drove me over the edge, and I shook as my dick exploded inside him. I felt his pussy fill up as big ropes of cum shot into him, and as he involuntarily clenched it squeezed me dry of all cum.
The effect was also clear on Sam, to my complete surprise. The second I was back inside his body he began to cry out with pleasure, bucking against my dick even after I had finished cumming. Within a few seconds his moans reached a climax, and he slumped down against the toilets as I slumped down on top of him.
We lay there for a minute or two, my dick growing soft inside his pussy. He was clearly in pain, but what seemed to hurt him most was the shame – not just at being raped by a girl, but at having enjoyed it. He had deserved it, though. Of that I was certain.
I got up, picked up his phone and went onto the video. I didn’t bother watching it, I just put it into an email and sent it off. I grabbed Sam and flipped him around, so that my own topless, abused body was staring up at me.
“I just emailed that to myself. To my email address. If that video gets out once we’re back in our bodies, if you even speak of any of this, then the video gets sent to the police and you go away for fifteen years. You understand?” He gave a whimper in response, which I took to be a yes. I stuffed my dick back into my trousers, and stalked out of the room.
*****
The next morning was a saturday.
We both woke up back in our old bodies.
We both lay there naked, revelling in the feeling of being back in our comfortable form.
After a bit, both of us opened the video. Both of us watched it intently, every last detail.
And, watching it, we both cast our thoughts back and slowly began to rub ourselves.