“It must be really cool having a girl’s body; no, no, look I mean the way you walk. It almost doesn’t matter how you do it – okay Linda’s an exception, she walks like she’s a bricky with piles – but you know, normal girls. There are so many ways of walking and they’re all sexy. All we have is ‘manly swagger’ or shuffle. That’s it, and your, you know, yeah those, they rise and fall and look brilliant. And you don’t have a bunch of wrinkled bollocks to ruin your shape.
Nah, you girls are right cool”
“You think so? You’d swap would you? You’d like being stared at by skanky old gits like Mr Harrison as you walk down the corridor?”
“Mr Harrison? He’s okay, and he’s only 35 or so”
“He looks about 90! And you can see he’s got the hots, all the fuckin’ time. I’ve seen him reach into his pocket during lessons and re-arrange himself; it’s gross! Would you swap?”
“Wot, like in those movies where the girls eat a fortune cookie or some’at and wake up swapped round. That would be well cool, yeah”
“Come to mine and meet my Nan, she’s good at this stuff”
“Oh come on! It ain’t real, you think I’m stupid?”
Still, later that evening he went round to her house. He lived in a flat with his Dad and two sisters, he didn’t mind getting away, it could get a bit cramped. She lived in quite a big house in Buckstone Road, one of the better areas. He fancied her of course, and was hoping she was playing him along to get him alone.
But her Nan was in the sitting room, she smiled at him. “So you fancy being a girl? Janey told me”
“I’m not gay or nuffin, I just you know, think girls have it easy, and they look cool”
“Okay, we’ll swap you two for a week”
He laughed “Your Nan’s cool too,” he turned to her “You can keep a really straight face”
“Drink?” he was given a cup of bright red, slightly steaming soupy stuff, he was too polite to refuse.
When he came round 15 minutes later he was confused. “What the fuck?”
“Uh, uh! Girls don’t swear; leastways, not much.”
“What?” Janey looked down at him, or at least someone did. No! That was him looking down at him! He (Janey) held a mirror up to himself (Terry) and he saw a girl’s reflection. “Nah! This ain’t happening!” his voice was higher, shriller. He jumped up, and fell over. He wasn’t used to heels. He looked down at his feet and realised he couldn’t see them. Terry (or Janey, he was still confused) smiled; he could squeeze these whenever he wanted. Fuck, he did want to. He asked to use the bathroom and pulled off the tee-shirt, he struggled with the bra, he was used to looking at it when he unclipped a girl, now he had to bend his arms round. Fuck, fuck, fuck! How the hell were you meant to do this! When he got it off though he wasn’t unhappy with what he saw. He had great tits, which is to say Janey’s body had great tits. He gave them a good squeeze and yelped “Ow! That hurt!” A voice outside the bathroom spoke through the door.
“Dunno what you’re doing with my body, but stop it. It’s bound to be dirty” He had to get her in to help him put his bra back on.
“Why don’t they fit better, easier clips?”
“Because men design them for men to look at!”
It took some time to get used to what had happened. He’d been switched into her body, and she’d taken his. They had a week, each of them, to discover what it was like. This time next Friday they would switch back. Janey was having her own problems, the first time she needed a piss she decided it would be safer to sit down; later she tried standing and it took a while to get the direction right, her feet got wet. She screwed up her nose, it wasn’t quite so cool to be able to pee standing up after all; you needed skills learnt from childhood, skills that involved fiddling with yourself it seemed. She practiced over the weekend and by the end of the Sunday she had got it reasonably accurate (sometimes the hole stuck and sprayed! That was just so messy! But then being a boy you just walked off leaving a puddle or drips all over the seat. She couldn’t bring herself to do that, she wiped the seat). Having a crap was a learning experience too; she hadn’t expected that. Instead of wiping from the front, you had to reach round because of the bits in the way at the front. She done it ‘normally’ at first and was disgusted to realise she’d just wiped her penis with the toilet paper. Man! All these little differences. She also practiced the walk, no more swinging the hips, no more mesmerising, arse swaying; just a strut of the alpha-male, or the shuffle of the male not wanting to be noticed.
That first night the two of them, separately, did the obvious explorations. Terry started some vigorous rubbing and quickly stopped, that was bloody uncomfortable. He took it slower, gentler and started imagining and having more fun. It dawned on him that whenever he tried rubbing up a girl he tried to get her to cum as quickly as possible; now he started to understand why they weren’t always as grateful as he thought they should be. Janey had the opposite problem. Rubbing herself slowly and gently she found she couldn’t wait, she tried and tried to hold out, but ended up getting arm ache as she rubbed her cock as hard as she could and imagined she was fucking Tracey Van Damme – the latest big tit celebrity pictured in ‘Whoosh’ with her fingers provocatively pulling at her panties. She was starting to understand why boys tried to feel her tits; soft, squishy balloons of delight that had that delightful hard nut at the apex. She’d appreciate them more in future. She had noticed that some girls were attractive to girls and boys already, now she saw that it was because of their curves, their shapely, sexy proportions were just drawing on your sexual longing. She rubbed herself again and found that the second one was only a shadow of the last one; damn! Boys really were just one shot fucks! And that was even though she was imagining herself (male) fucking the living daylights out of herself (female).
The weekend in each other’s homes was illuminating. Janey found that Terry clearly got to see far more of his sisters than he normally let on. It wasn’t unusual for them to wander round in bra and panties when their Dad was out shopping or somewhere. Terry, she was fairly sure, didn’t fancy his 12 or even 14 year-old sister; but she wasn’t blessed with his history of growing up with them. “Oh my God Terr! Are you getting an erection watching me?” Asked the 14-year-old Kathy.
“No, don’t flatter yourself. I was thinking of a girl at school. Why would I get a boner about a flat-chested girl like you?” Janey joked back, and immediately regretted it. Kathy’s eyes began to fill with tears, of course, Janey had forgotten already how self-conscious young girls were. “Sorry, I was only joking. No not about that! I wasn’t thinking of you” which was a lie “but I could, you have a lovely shape”
“Don’t you dare you perv.” She had brightened up. Her big brother had admitted she could turn him on if he let himself. This was a bit unfair on Terry, who had never, ever, thought of either sister as a sexual partner. The younger girl, Sandie, now leapt on him and the two of them started tickling their brother. He found this even more of a turn on, and he realised that they knew that. They were testing the boundaries. He was stronger than them; he could easily have taken advantage; yet he didn’t. She re-assessed again, boys had to be in control of themselves more than she had realised.
Terry came down the stairs in a towelling robe, suddenly more selfconscious. Nan was there, the only other person who knew what had happened. “Hi, sleep well?”
“Yeeass” he replied hesitantly. In fact he had woken twice with Terry’s hand between her legs. The first time she’d been shocked, boy’s hands naturally cup their balls at night, but there was nothing to cup now, he hadn’t expected that. The second time ‘she’ rolled over and went back to sleep leaving the hand to caress the female body into dreams. Janey, in a boy’s body had the same problem, her hand naturally found it pleasant to cup the newly acquired ‘tackle’; she could see the attraction from a tactile point of view, visually though, no, they were no artwork (unless it was ‘pickled walnuts and dead snake’ by Damian Hurst).
The first day at school was ... interesting. Firstly girls talked far more about sex than Terry had ever realised. It had dawned on Janey that Monday morning that the boy in her body might learn all sorts of secrets that boys weren’t meant to know. Who fancied whom, for example. It was a code of honour amongst the girls not to tell, just because Girl A like Boy B, he didn’t need to know that. He’d either use it to make fun of her, take advantage of her, or not try hard enough to get her to go out with him. Terry (in the girl) was fascinated by what the girls said to each other – how so-and-so had given her a blow job, and how ‘that boy’ had tried it on and got a kick in the goolies. Meanwhile ‘that boy’ was telling his friends that she had gone all the way and begged him to do it bareback because she was a Catholic. Janey knew that would be a lie, she kept condoms in her bag, and she had no intention of letting him fuck her she’d said; he was good for a free meal or trip to the cinema though; Janey kept quiet. She hoped the boy in her body was keeping quiet too. Girls, she realised from her new found distance, were quite mercenary where boys were really quite honest in that they were only after one thing (as she’d been warned numerous times, now that she had a cock that could rise and fall on demand she understood a little more why).
Terry was genuinely surprised to hear that Linda was having an affair with a teacher. Janey (when she was a girl) was in a small tight-knit group and Linda had admitted to them that Charles Grimshaw had picking her up around the corner from the school and they had spent the weekend at Garten (a town in the Dales with a reputation – apparently justified – for illicit affairs). Linda was sixteen and a half, Charles Grimshaw was newly out of college. Not a huge difference in ages, but he was a teacher and she was a pupil and that was a sacking offence, actually it was a striking off the teacher’s register offence, a criminal record offence. He was apparently a very, very good lover. She didn’t go into details but the girls understood that he was good at all manner of ways of satisfying an over-sexed teenager. But the real eye-opener had been the PE lesson. The girls all changed in such a way that they didn’t show themselves much, but Terry was still amazed at what they showed – why? They had to undress somehow. Sports bras got put on and lacy panties were replaced by big sporty knickers and shorts or skirts. He was also surprised by how careful he was in this situation. In the boys’ changing rooms everyone just stripped off and put on shorts and shirts, no one cared. Everybody had a cock and balls and arse and if some were circumcised and others not, no-one ever commented (which would after all have been to admit they were looking). Here he felt he wanted to hide his particular, personalised, pudenda. Every girl was different and every girl had been trained over years to think that they were unusual, not quite normal, even downright weird. Boys had few such thoughts, even Kevin, fat Kevin, fat, wobbly Kevin, was happy to strip off and put on the sports gear even though the sports teacher was horrible to him. But in the changing room everyone was equal.
“So, having fun?” asked Janey after school.
“Yes, I think so. Still can’t believe this is happening, but well...”
“I suppose you enjoyed PE? I heard a couple of girls saying they thought you’d gone du-lalley. You dribbled the ball in netball and tried to hi-five someone for scoring. You’ll have to take it easy, you aren’t one of the sporty ones, remember? You are one of the ones who would claim a period every week to get off PE if you could”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Netball is the stupidest game I’ve ever seen. Still, giving Tracey a hug for scoring was fun”
“Terry! I don’t want my body back with a reputation for being a lesa okay? Or I’ll ask Rupert for a kiss”
“You wouldn’t!? Oh, yeah, you would wouldn’t you. But Rupert? I mean come on”
“Then behave. What have you learnt – not whether Melinda wears falsies, I mean what have you learnt about girls”
“Does she? I didn’t know. Well I could hardly stare at her tits could I?”
“Call them boobs. Girls don’t call them tits much. It’s a bit pejorative”
“Ok, and boys don’t use words like pejorative. I’ve learnt that walking in heels teaches you balance, and that looking good takes ages. I’ve also learnt that teachers treat boys and girls differently”
“How? I’m not disagreeing”
“Well, Linda hadn’t done her homework, she cried and got an extra day to do it. Mick hadn’t done his homework and got detention”
“Yeah, well Mick is always trying it on”
“I know. But it’s interesting though. I suppose if a boy cried he’d get let off too. And beaten up by the hard-ens of course”
Day two started chaotically. Terry took too long putting his makeup on and couldn’t make the time up by running because of the heels. He arrived late, ignored the deputy head because she was calling “Miss Lockstaffe!” eventually she shouted “Janey!! Come here” and Terry suddenly twigged
“Sorry Mrs Brown, I was rushing so much, I didn’t hear you” He thought of trying the tears, but suspected it worked less well on a woman.
“Janey Lockstaffe. If I thought you were trying to miss the sex ed. I’d put you on detention” Sex Ed! He’d forgotten that. The Danish teacher with her open and modern methods!
“No Miss, honest I didn’t!”
“Honestly you didn’t! Go on. Get to the class, I’ll add you to the register”
So he arrived late; the class had been split by gender for a frank exploration of the opposite body parts. Terry realised he was going to miss seeing a 5 times life size vagina. The big plastic penis on the teacher’s desk looked quite intimidating. Even though he didn’t have one at the moment he felt diminished by the massive cock.
“Come in Miss Lockstaffe, Janey isn’t it? Yes, I was just explaining, in case anybody hasn’t seen a real one, that this isn’t life size.”
“Wish it was” a girl piped up at the back; everybody, including the teacher, laughed.
“Well, if you think you could accommodated this then you’ll be very disappointed in the real thing. Most online porn that boys read, oh, do you read it too? Hands up who looks at porn online? Come on, it’s just us girls here, no boys making silly comments. Yes, that’s better. So, is it girl on girl or boy on girl?” One of the girls said that the boy on girl was entirely unreal. “Of course it is. So is Star Trek, or cowboy films. They are fantasies. Unfortunately some of your boyfriends think it’s the way sex is meant to be. We’ll come back to that. Girl on girl is pretty unconvincing too. I don’t know any girl who goes down on another girl on their first date, you want to be sure she doesn’t have herpes at least!” The girls, as one, went ‘euughh’ “Oh yes, you can say that, but you need to think about it. Anyway ... this is a penis, we can take it apart to see how it works. But first... “she pressed a little pump at the bottom and it rose from an impressive but soft penis to a very impressive erection. “You see? It is all done by fluid pressure. Water here, but blood in your boyfriend’s case. The term ‘boner’ is so inaccurate it is unbelievable.
The penis is really a very clever tool” She pulled the skin off to reveal the inner workings of this accurate model. Terry involuntarily crossed her legs and then forced herself to uncross. They went through a blow by blow (sniggering of some girls) description of the physiological changes as the erection occurred. Actually he found it interesting, he thought the boys should know this too. He put his hand up.
“You can call me Uta, no, Linda, not Hooter, Uta! Or Ms Devaraka, I am not a Miss because that denotes a status in relation to marriage and I don’t see that as important to who I am”