Chapter 10: Day 21

Peter sat up in bed and stretched as the irritating bleat from the clock radio continued to sound. It was still dark outside but it was time to get up if he was going to jog before going to work. He reached over and turned off the alarm, pulled back the sheet, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Standing up, he looked at the prone form still curled up on the other side of the bed. Reaching down, he pulled the sheet back over the girl, and then gently tucked it around her neck and shoulders. He went to the dresser and got out a clean pair of sweats and socks, put them on along with his running shoes, and grabbed his apartment key.

Before heading out, he bent over the girl in his bed and kissed her on the side of her face. "Be back after my run, sweetheart."

Then he left the condo and took the elevator to the lobby. Crossing the street to Central Park, he stopped inside the entrance just long enough to stretch and warm up before starting his easy lope to the running track that ran around the small lake. He had just started this practice several days ago, but people recognized Peter's body and waved to him each morning. Kara had never gone in much for exercise, but now, as Peter, had discovered new thrills from pushing this body to its limits. Its strength had surprised her from the start and she wanted to keep it fit. Kara, formerly Peter, had raised the notion that they might not be able to switch back when the year was up.

Originally, he had thought of this as an opportunity to collect material for a book, perhaps it could even be a best seller, and since the first night he had hopped into bed with any female who batted her eyes at him. Having lusted only after women since Kara had reached her teens, the number of female bodies available to her now was intoxicating. Even in these enlightened times, the number of gay lovers paled when compared to the number of 'straights'. And Peter's 6 and a half feet of tanned muscle, black wavy hair, and rugged, handsome features had women falling all over him.

But for the past 10 days, he had started to become more selective. If it was true that they might not be able to switch back, then he had to be careful not to catch any diseases, or make any babies. Prior to this change of thinking, he hadn't cared what happened to Peter's body. Reasoning that in less than a year she would be back into her own, why should she care if Peter contracted AIDS, or if he suddenly had a dozen brats to support for the next 18 years. That would be his problem. It would serve him right for getting her into this fix. If he hadn't insisted on driving down that awful road, and then dragged her up that hill and into that cave, she would still be Kara. So why should she care what happened to him? He was, after all, only a MALE.

Peter slowed his running to a jog, and cooled down as he headed for the exit. Entering his condo, he stripped off his clothes and dropped them on the floor of the bedroom. As he headed into the bathroom, he glanced at the figure still lying exactly where he had left her an hour ago. He turned on the shower and stepped into the steaming water. It relaxed his now tense body, and made him anxious to start the new day. After washing his body, and shampooing his hair, he stepped from the shower and rubbed himself dry with a large bath towel. Then he stepped to the toilet and raised the lid. Loosing a stream of pale yellow urine, he smiled. He got a charge out of peeing while standing up. It was one of the male perks. As the stream slowed to a trickle, he took a piece of toilet tissue and dabbed at the end of his penis to catch the remaining drops. Then he went to the sink and lathered up his face. As he scraped his face with the razor, he frowned. This was the worst part of being a man. Every morning he scraped his face raw, and by noon, it was dark with stubble again. He hated the sandpaper feel of his afternoon face. In fact, he hated all the hair on his body, except for that on the top of his head. While many women may like to sleep with a hairy body, few would like to sleep IN a hairy body. And Peter's body was hairy. He had nearly as much hair on his chest and back, as on his head. In fact, when seen naked, he resembled an ape. She thought briefly about shaving parts of it. Or perhaps electrolysis. Peter wouldn't miss the hair on his back when they switched again. And maybe the hair on his stomach and sides, too. After all, she had to live in this body for almost another year.

Completing the shaving, he washed the rest of the shaving gel from his face. He opened a bottle of after-shave, splashed some on his face, and reeled from the pain as the alcohol came into contact with the raw skin and exposed nerve endings. As the pain subsided, Peter re-entered the bedroom and donned a clean pair of shorts and a tee shirt.

He walked to the bed and said, "Time to get up, sleepyhead. You can't sleep all day." He pulled the sheet off to fully expose her naked body. Then reached down and untied the rope that kept her legs bent back almost to her hands. She groaned as he pulled her legs straight, and he saw tears forming at her eyes. As she started to stir, he removed the tape that covered the lower part of her face, and then the ball gag.

"Bloody hell. You didn't have to leave that thing in all night", she said.

"You know that I don't like that kind of language. Would you like this put back in?" he asked as he held up the gag.

"No, Master Peter," she said quickly, "I'm sorry. It was just a slip of the tongue. Please don't put that on me again. I'll be quiet."

"Very well. I'll forgive you this time."

She groaned again as Peter pushed her onto her stomach and untied her wrists and arms, before going to his closet to get out a suit and shirt. When he had completed getting ready for work, she had not even managed to untie her knees yet. Peter shook his head. She would never be half the submissive that his beloved Carol is, but she was the best that he had found so far.

He had met her in a 'dungeon club' a week ago. Her name is Kirsten, and she is blond, compliant, and twenty-four. She told him that she was healthy, and that her former Master had insisted that she have her tubes tied. He had even taken her for the operation to make sure that it was done. Last week, Peter had taken her to a doctor for a full check-up. She had passed all the tests, and was declared healthy. Peter had submitted to a full exam also. He wanted to make sure that he had not contracted any disease while he was 'whoring' around. He had also received a clean bill of health. The doctor that Peter had taken Kirsten to was one that shared his fetishes, so he didn't question the bondage marks on her body, nor the slave collar that was still locked onto her neck.

Peter hailed a cab as he stepped from the building. Arriving downtown, he took the elevator to his floor, and after dropping his bags in the corner of his office, and his briefcase on his desk, he walked to the small refreshment room and poured a cup of fresh coffee. As Kara, he had only drank water or fruit juice, but he found that this body had a craving for the jolt that coffee offered. As he took his first sip, Kara came in to get a cup of tea. He greeted her and made a comment about how hot she looked.

She smiled at him and said, "Thank you, Peter. You're looking pretty good yourself. I see that you're doing better with shaving." She had stepped in closer and rubbed her hand gently across his face. He reached down and squeezed her bum. She took a step back and said, "Easy tiger, we're at work."

He grinned and said, "Okay, doll. How's Carol doing?"

"She's recovered from your visit. You frightened her badly. She thought that you meant to do us harm."

"I'm sorry. I really miss her, you know. I've found another playmate, but I still miss my pretty Carol."

"I'm taking good care of her", Kara said.

"I know. By the way, congratulations on the promotion. I guess that we'll be working together a lot from now on. Lucky for me. I still have a lot to learn from the old master."

"What is this 'old' nonsense. I'm only 35. Carol referred to me as an 'old man' the first day that I met her."

"Hey, chill. At our age, anybody over 30 is old."

"Yeah, well, don't look in the mirror, old man."

"Very funny. Save some of that humor for Herb Lungreen. You're going to need it", Peter said.

"Herb's an OK guy. He just likes to make passes. If anybody takes him up on them, he runs the other way. I fixed him up with a pro last year. She told me that all he wanted to do was sit and talk about his wife for two hours. On the other hand, I hear that you're going after Claire Desmond's new book. Don't forget to bring along a case of condoms. If the rumors about her sexual appetite are correct, you'll need them."

"I've heard. I'm actually looking forward to it. I'll be leaving in an hour. I'll think about you as I lie on the beach in Fiji. That's where she's been working."

"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically as Peter smiled. "Good luck anyway."

Peter took his coffee and returned to his office. He looked over his flight schedule and then checked his 'to do' list to make sure that he had taken care of everything. Satisfied that he was ready, he gulped down the rest of his coffee, picked up his bags and headed for the elevator. Once outside the building, he hailed a cab and arrived at Kennedy Airport a full two hours before the flight. After checking in, he went to the Commodore's Club Lounge. As he killed time waiting to board his plane, he checked out the women who entered the lounge. He added at least two phone numbers to his little black book before it was time to leave. On the trip to Fiji, he made several more contacts. Peter thought to himself that he might have to get a bigger, little black book pretty soon. So much for curbing his sex activities, he thought. But this was different. Since he traveled so much, this would help to alleviate boredom while he was in strange cities.