Switched Ch. 03

This is a work of erotic fiction. All characters engaged in sexual activity are at least eighteen years old.

Many thanks to icedragonmo3 for editing and expert advice. Any mistakes herein are because the author didn't listen.

* * *

Switched

Chapter 3

Jessica

I awoke as usual when her alarm went off. The events of last night came back in a rush.

Had we really done that? Had I? I'd been avoiding the vagina all this time. It was like touching and using it would make it more real. But all it took was one teasing roomie, and I was all over myself. I smelled my fingers. Yes, it had been real.

I heard footsteps approaching, then Tawney, dressed in only a towel and shower cap, appeared in front of the shower. She glanced at me with a faint smile, then removed the towel and stepped in.

"Tawney?"

"What up?"

"Are we okay?"

"We sure are, Sugar!"

I felt such relief. "Oh good. Thank you for the lesson last night."

"You're welcome." She was so breezy and bright that I couldn't help but get swept up a little.

Encouraged, I said, "I'm going to do some practice now."

She sang, "I've created a monster!"

When she came out, I was lying there uncovered, my hands working busily. I'd discovered that, if I brought my arms a little farther forward and held them just so, I could push my tits together and make them look so much more big and cleavage-y. Why didn't women do this? I should tell someone.

Her look was so unreadable that I stopped. "Sorry."

After a moment she just repeated, "I've created a monster," and started drying off.

I gasped. The vigorous toweling was making her body jiggle in every possible direction. I sped up, plunging a finger into myself repeatedly. I was starting to get that feeling...

I imagined I was that towel as she efficiently rubbed herself down with it. My hips bucked, and that made me feel so dirty, as did the squishy little noises I was making.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and turned toward her wardrobe.

"Wait!" I called and she stopped.

"Please dry off some more."

Her eyes widened, but she raised the towel anyway. She was watching me. My hands, my sex, my face and my breasts. Oh what I would give for her to touch my breasts right now.

Facing me, my sexy roommate toweled her backside and jiggled gloriously.

I humped the air and plunged my depths and swirled my clit. She was watching me and that sent me over the edge.

She laughed and turned away as I howled with ecstasy, giving her own bare ass a playful slap.

I lay there all morning and touched the girl-body, closing my eyes and seeing Tawney's. I sucked my fingers and imagined what she'd taste like.

It occurred to me that there was a laundry basket with plenty of her underwear in it. I could just hop on over and get one and smash it to my face and...

Okay, okay. Let's just calm down. That was over the top.

I rose, nude, and went to the laundry basket, lifting it until it bumped against my breasts.

Before I could lose my conviction, I ran downstairs and dumped it in the washer.

Temptation successfully removed.

*

Burner

Jessica

I braided my hair and got dressed, with a bra and everything. I made a few tentative efforts with the lipstick and eyeliner, and though doing so made me feel an odd, stomach-rumbling feeling of wrongness, I found the end result to be satisfactory-looking.

I went downstairs and wheeled the dirt bike out the door.

I had to hurl myself bodily and kick as hard as I could to start the bike, but once it was running, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

It was sixty degrees and breezy. While Winter bumbled around trying to find Georgia, we were enjoying some nice weather. I cracked the throttle and kicked first gear, and we leapt forward. Wind tore at my clothes as I ran up through the gears, just to do it, because now I was downshifting and leaning into a turn, parallel to the road.

Space opened up before me and I grabbed the next gear. The front wheel lifted and I shot forward.

I was free. Free! I ate up mile after mile, just for the sheer joy of it.

I'd heard rumors about motorcycles and female anatomy and took a few minutes to try them out. Meh, pretty overblown, or maybe I needed a four-stroke.

Enough silliness. I was far enough, I judged. I'd been riding for an hour and taking careful note of every turn so I wouldn't get lost.

I pulled off the road and into the woods a short distance, then pulled out the burner phone. Taking a deep breath, I punched in the number and pressed 'send'.

It rang, then went to the phone company's recording of 'we're sorry, you've reached a number that has been disconnected,' which in this case was just protective camouflage. I spoke my security code clearly and firmly: "McKenna, Chase, Alpha Penis One Five Three Niner, Blackfoot Fart-Knocker."

They'd let me make up my own code phrase. I'd been fourteen.

A gnomic array of clicking and static greeted my proclamation as the call was picked up, shunted, encrypted, and proxied. The line took on a live, almost hissing background, the noise of several thousand miles of fiber-optic cabling, I assumed.

There was nothing but that hum, then a hard click that made me flinch, and a voice.

"Who am I speaking to?" He knew who. I'd used my code.

"What's the matter, Senator? Don't you recognize your own son?"

"My son is in intensive care after a terrorist attack."

"So that's what you're telling them. I've been avoiding the news."

He sighed, "You can't run from reality."

"I've had a far more difficult reality to deal with, Father."

"If you're my son, you'd be able to tell me what your mother gave you on your fifth birthday."

"You would use that one."

"What was it?"

"Bastard."

Silence, then Father said, "I'm waiting."

I took a deep breath. "She gave me a turtle. And I went outside to play with it and dropped it off the footbridge into the water, but it landed on a rock."

"What was the first car you ever asked me for?"

"A snowspeeder."

"The first real car."

Now I sighed. "It was a Lamborghini Countach, which maybe doesn't count as a real car either. Are you satisfied now?"

"It is you," he said, his voice matter-of-fact. I strained to hear any kind of warmth or relief, but heard only thousands of miles of noisy fiber-optics.

"Yep," I said. "All my life."

"Why did you run, Chase?"

"I was freaking out, Father. Your goons were going to stick me with needles."

"That's no way to talk about our family's loyal retainers."

I glowered at the phone. He always did like them better. "Needles," I growled.

"As unfortunate as it is, protocol must—"

I interrupted. "Did you get stuck with a needle, Father? Because you were exposed to the Variants, too, weren't you? They were using their powers all over the place. They could have put a mojo on you without you ever knowing it. Where were your fucking paper clothes, huh?"

"There's no reason to get upset."

"There is every reason! You pissed off the Variants and they turned me into a girl! Do you even comprehend what that's been like for me? Do you? Do you?"

"It must have been very difficult. Come back. We'll take care of you."

"You'll put me on house arrest until you can cure me, but you can't, can you? Because that would require the cooperation of people with Variant Abilities, wouldn't it?"

"Calm down."

"And you'll never get that! Because you treat them like dirt."

"You can't be sympathizing—"

"I'm not getting sentimental, Father, merely explaining the reality that you seem to have been avoiding."

There was a long, hissing silence on the line, then he asked, "Why did you call?"

Now it was my turn to be silent. A bird whooped in the trees nearby, traffic making a distant shushing sound. "Just checking in," I said. When had being flippant become a habit when I talked to him? Probably when I figured out it pissed him off.

Why had I called? What was the point to this guy?

I rubbed my face. "If you find a cure for this transformation that your shitty politics brought down on my head, or if you can find some way to guarantee you won't treat me like dirt, I'll come back."

As I said the words, I realized they weren't true. I'd come back for a cure, sure. I'd try to get my life back, my friends, especially Bryan. But live at home? Do the suit and tie tour as the loyal son with good academic prospects and blow-dried hair? Spend the weekend flying around the country being seen and not heard at speech after speech, while my friends partied and lived their lives? That life seemed so far away.

"We won't treat you like dirt. You're my s-," he hesitated.

"Say it," I seethed. "Say the word."

He said nothing.

"Say it!" I roared, hearing my words echo back to me.

"You'll always be my son."

My eyes melted into stinging lava and began to drip. "Why are you like this?" I asked, my throat about to go the same way as my eyes.

"Come home. I would never mistreat you." Oh, he was using that voice. The one on all the ads, the one that could convince millions of his sincerity. His bread and butter.

"Are they making demands?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"The Supers. Are they offering to change me back? Tell me, Father."

"They've made no offers. We've covered it up, in fact. Officially, you're in intensive care after being assaulted by Variant terrorists." He sounded pleased with himself.

"Wouldn't want me embarrassing you."

"We have worked too hard for this... this obscenity... to stop us now. I would think you'd be able to understand that."

"If you're lying, I will destroy you."

"I'm not, but I like your fighting spirit. Come home."

I opened my mouth to tell him yes. I wanted so badly for this to be over. But then I remembered his face, and that look of disgust, in the SUV.

That was the real Cal McKenna.

I said, "I'm going to need a guarantee. Like you said, your career is more important than my well-being."

I hung up and cried. Every time I heard a bird call, I gave it the finger. Fucking happy-ass birds.

*

I got the map and oriented myself, then rode another thirty or forty miles, stopping for gas and paying cash, keeping my helmet and sunglasses on. Again I found a nice spot in the woods and pulled out the phone.

Bryan picked up. "Aunt Verna! How good of you to call."

I tried out a scratchy old maid voice. "It's time for your enema, Boy!"

I snickered, hearing him try to hold in a laugh. "Of course it is! Just give me one moment, Sweetie."

"Uncle Henry's been real hard on my poor beaver lately," I croaked.

Now he did laugh.

I waited for a moment, then he came back on. "That was not cool."

I giggled, "I've been cooped up a lot lately."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry! You're a huge help, Dude."

"We don't have a lot of time, these burner phones shouldn't be used for more than ten minutes at a time."

I explained about calling my dad, and the security precautions I'd taken, and he seemed pretty satisfied.

"Okay, this guy I know is having a party this weekend. Go to it and I'll meet you there. Try not to be recognizable. I've got some information for you."

Damn, the conversation was already almost over. He gave me the time and address and started to sign off when I interrupted. "Bryan, you're a true friend. I miss you, man."

"Hang in there, Chase."

I smiled at the sound of that name. He always knew what to say to me. For the millionth time, I promised to be as good a friend to him as he was to me. Better, if I could. He surely deserved it.

*

Dream

Jessica

It was late when I got home, but Tawney was still up.

"How'd she run?" she asked as she helped me push the bike inside.

"A little lean."

"I did that on purpose so you wouldn't hot-dog it too bad," she grinned. Eyeing the pegs and forks for scrapes, she said, "You didn't drop it, did you?"

"No!"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I didn't!" I knew she was teasing, but I couldn't resist the bait.

"Where'd you go?"

"Contacted the outside world. Couldn't do that before, but this baby," I patted the saddle of the bike, "was perfect. Cell towers, you see. Probably traceable, so I can't call from the same place."

"Did you call your boyfriend?"

"Yeah... Dammit!"

She cackled triumphantly.

"He's not my boyfriend!" I grumbled.

"How is he?"

"We're going to have a secret spy meeting at a party this weekend. I have to buy some clothes. Will you come with?"

"I'll take you Saturday after work," she chirped.

"You guys are so nice," I said, suddenly feeling tears coming on. She wrapped her arms around me and I let her hold me. It was shamefully submissive, but I didn't have it in me to push her away. In fact, I'd be an ass if I did.

No choice but to be held. I laid my head on her shoulder. Tears burst forth and had no choice but to cry, didn't I?

I said, "I called my family today. It's like I'm not even a priority."

Tawney shushed me gently and rubbed my back.

"I'm nobody. I have nobody." I ground my teeth, "And this fucking thing happened to me."

"Shh," she consoled me. Her hand rubbing circles between my shoulder blades was holding back my hiccuping cries for now.

"You're going through a tough time," she sympathized, and I nodded miserably in agreement. "But you're gonna be proud of yourself later, when you look back. You're a tough lady."

At that I bawled uncontrollably.

She led me over to sit on her bed and she held me, and the harder she squeezed, the harder I cried.

She brought me water, then noodles. At my insistence, she ate the noodles and I drank the broth. When I felt better, I took a long shower.

I was going to be tough, and I was going to get through this.

I kept asking myself the question: What will I want to look back on, after this? What would make future me proud?

I thought about the church I grew up in, of all things. Not so weird I guess; Thinking about the end of their lives was kind of their thing. Too much their thing. I always pitied them a little, because they didn't get it. Their Creator had put them on this mortal plane, and it made no sense whatsoever for them to show their devotion to Him by spending their time here doing nothing but thinking about their reward when they got to leave.

In a very real way, I was doing the same thing. I had to do better.

I stepped out of the shower and did a double-take. The overheads were off and there was just the warm glow of white Christmas lights, speckled with orange here and there, criss-crossing the wall. Soft music played, and the faint allure of Tawney's perfume hung in the air.

She stepped into view. She was in her robe, holding my towel before her. She hit me with a look from those incredible eyes, but couldn't hold it. She dropped her gaze.

Now she was focused on my body. She lingered a bit and then looked back up at my face, avoiding my eyes now. She put on a strained smile. "Let..." She coughed, and her voice came out low. "Let's dry you off."

My whole body tingled.

She put the towel on either side of my face, her eyes everywhere, and gently dried it. Her lips hovered inches from mine and she wanted me to know she was aware of that.

I felt the towel on my neck and holy shit my breasts! Forgot about those. They were sensitive after my shower. Another queasy feeling of wrongness twisted my stomach, but I breathed through it.

This was the life I had been given. I would work to get back to my old self, but in the meantime, I would live the life I had.

I gasped at the rough cloth going over my nipples. Tawney smiled.

She dried the rest of me, then gently dried my hair before wrapping it up and tucking the towel atop my head. It was intimate and felt really good, and although she didn't avoid the more sensitive parts of me, she didn't linger.

My skin was alive with sensation and the need for more. I began to feel that familiar dampness between my legs. She moved behind me and not being able to see her made me feel so vulnerable.

"You have beautiful skin," she said, her accent stronger. "But you have to put on lotion." Her breath faintly tickled my ear and I longed for more.

As if she was reading my mind, she leaned in close and whispered, "May I?"

A wild, jagged shiver worked its way down my body and I twitched so hard she made a noise in surprise.

I said, "Oh, please."

I heard the lotion squirt, then her hands on my shoulders. She spread the cool lotion across my shoulders and arms, then worked her way down my back.

She went for more lotion and I felt it on the top of my butt. She must have been dripping it straight on. Imagining what that had looked like for her made me tingle more.

Her hands spread the lotion, my butt warming dramatically in response to her touch, and she worked her strong, clever fingers over every square centimeter of my ass, but never the same place twice.

I was gushing now, I had to be. She avoided my slit but did encroach along my labia for a delightful, head-spinning moment.

She did my thighs then, which had more erogenous zones than I'd thought, and my calves and finally my feet.

She remained crouching and tugged on my arm to turn around.

I turned to see her kneeling before me. The sight nearly made me moan. Was I about to have an orgasm?

Now she went up the front of my legs, every touch sending jolts of pleasure up to my core. She got above my knees and my legs began to tremble.

I felt so much moisture building in my pussy. Horrifyingly, a drop rolled down my thigh. Her thumb swept over it while she worked but she made no sign she'd noticed. I tried to control it somehow. Stop the flow by clenching my... my cookie.

Oh, god, I had a cookie. A wet, needy little cookie. I'd never seen a woman so hot in the flesh, and I am her! She was going to be touching my breasts.

I was rapidly figuring out that there was no way in hell I could control the hot, wet, womanly feelings raging down there, much less the flow of moisture.

She pushed her hands slowly up the front of my thighs, thumbs gliding over my mound. I let out a sob of desire, making her giggle but not look up from her work.

She stopped for more lotion. On my tummy now, making me lightheaded, and then oh my Christ oh yes fingertips brushing the underside of my breasts, lightly gliding upwards and her warm palms filled with the weight of them. I tried to breathe in again without exhaling the breath I already held.

Her fingers closed on my breasts. My bare, hypersensitive breasts.

I'm going to die. Right now.

She squeezed them, just a little, and rubbed the lotion in circles, with her slick palms grinding my erect nubbins.

Tingles were shooting straight down to the leaking dam.

I saw her draw in a sharp breath, and her pupils dilated. She got a little smile on her face and risked a glance up at me.

Our eyes met. She quirked her mouth and lifted a shoulder as if to say 'Yeah, I did that. Why not?'

She did my arms quickly, then my neck and finally my face, hers inches away, carefully covering me with the last of the lotion.

I was breathing heavily by this point. There were already things going on in my pussy that I hadn't felt until I'd put a finger in there last night. Strangely, I could feel that finger now, the memory of it.

She was so close that her foot brushed mine, and I noticed the texture. She was wearing hose, but patterned, not the drugstore kind.

My gaze flew up to her face. I saw now that there was a flush creeping up her neck. She was biting her bottom lip and she looked so sexy it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself.

She'd been giving me mixed signals. She'd teased me mercilessly last night and given up very little. I could assume nothing.