The Ring

Whenever I look over and see a woman on her back, legs spread, skirt around her waist with some stranger taking his pleasure, I whisper "I'm sorry. " No one knows this is all my fault, they just see the posters of me, blouse ripped open, president cumming inside me, but I know.

It's so easy to blame men for the world we live in now, but I picked a side in the war of the sexes - I decided the magic I was given should serve femininity - a magic that should have given me the skills to hold both in sacred balance.

I don't know who has the ring now - but I hope you use it to understand. Not for power.

***

I was sixteen. A sophomore in high school. A member of band. I was going steady with Jeremy and expected to marry him one day, in the way of sixteen year old girls. It was late January, and we were all holding our breath for the first faint whispers of spring.

I got bored and headed up to the attic. Our house is old, multi generational, so that there are still some things we have from my great grandma up there. I guess that's what I was looking for. When I found a jewelry box I was in heaven, and when I found an unadorned gold ring sitting in it, nothing would do but to put it on.

I felt so badass as I walked down the stairs to the attic with that dope gold ring. I just had to show my best friend Jeremy. I called him up and invited him over. He came in, high fived me, and took a look.

"You look like a girl!" He said. I protested indignantly.

"No, man! It's like a gangster ring!"

"Girl!" he chanted, "girl!"

There was nothing to do but to take it off.

I was disoriented for a moment. How had I gotten into my room? Why was Jeremy in my room?! I'd only let him see it like three times and I'd cleaned it meticulously. A quick survey now showed, my god, a bra sticking out from under my bed.

But no, I had invited him over to look at my great grandma's ring I had just found, and he was admiring it.

"It looked good on you honey," he was saying.

"It's a little heavy," I told him, "here try."

"Rings are kinda a girl thing babe," he tried to protest, but I gave him that look and he took it and put it on.

My best friend Jessica, held up her hand admiring.

"It's beautiful! - but definitely heavy. How did they used to wear this kind of stuff!?"

"I don't know!" I exclaimed.

And so it went. I now know the ring not only changes the gender of the wearer, but changes the very nature of the world around you. Everything, from the relationships, memories, clothes, and personality - shifts when you put that ring on. Who knows how many things exist like it, constantly changing our world every moment. We would never know.

I liked that ring in both forms, but it fit a little less well as a guy than as a girl, and I got into the habit of slipping it on and off absently. On as a girl, off as a guy. I would play with it at the mall, or in school, or any number of public places, and maybe two years after I first found it, I decided to enter a beauty pageant, and not being bad to look at, I won. I was up there in my dress with my flowers, awaiting the speech I was supposed to give in front of hundreds of people, when I nervously slipped on my ring. I think the ring's magic got strained there. I've noticed that it never moves me from where I am, and has a hard time moving other people too, it just gives them different reasons for being there.

But what other reason would all these women and one guy be on stage? Why else would we all be arrayed as we were? I'd been at the pageant to look at the pretty girls and here I was on stage. Like a child casting out for a distraction, it shifted the scene and suddenly I was turning and kissing one of the girls beside me, and men were sprinting up on stage, and there was giggling and shrieking, as a huge free for all orgy exploded into being.

But even as I was reaching under Daisy Minahu's skirt while kissing her passionately, finger sliding between her legs to cup the heat I found there, my mind was crackling, snapping, the unreality was hitting it, memories were flashing in. I was buried cock deep in Daisy Minahu when I realized that I was a girl. I came in her, spasming my seed into her unprotected womb, reveling in the strength of my body, and the rightness of that act, while some small part of me was aware that this wasn't how I really was.

I slipped the ring off - and there was nothing for the ring to do - 100 people in compromising positions, but to continue as it had been. Brett Williams approached the two of us rolling about on the floor and took my skirts up, sliding into me, kissing me. It was all so sudden, returning to myself, but like this! I freaked out and slammed the ring back on. Then there was Daisy between us, I was in her from behind, and Brett was taking her from the front. I took the time to relax with Daisy sliding up and down my miraculously hard again cock. Brett came in her, but I was going slower now, distracted by the memories that came back to me in fits and bursts, and kept stroking in and out of her.

Then I started to feel Daisy tensing against me, breathing hard.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine, it's just - this is my first time, and I never imagined it would be like this... I don't know what came over me."

Don't worry about it honey I wanted to say as a male and keep going. But I had my female mind too, which understood, which knew that the right thing was to stop, so I did.

"I don't think anybody knows what came over them," I said. We can stop if you want to Daisy."

She breathed a sigh of thanks, and I slipped out of her, the male in me fighting against it with every instinct. I was about to score!

"Thank you," she breathed. Really looking around herself for the first time. "Oh my God, that's Mr Jackson with Clare!"

Indeed there was seventy year old Mr Jackson energetically pounding the cute eighteen year old. The girl part thought that was disgusting, the guy part thought it was kind of hot. I looked back at Daisy sitting there naked, with sperm dripping out of her, observing the rest of the room, and found myself growing really hard. Couldn't she just blow me or something?

I was turning towards her to ask when my female brain rebelled, and I took off the ring. I was still wet, but I could hold it, at least this way I didn't want to stick my dick in everything.

Unfortunately it meant that everything wanted to stick its dick into me.

I gave a yelp as I felt hands raise my hips, and then somebody thrust into me. Glancing over my shoulder I found it was just Tim, our resident nerdy loser who I would never give a second chance normally, but as I subtly struggled he easily held my hips in place. The ring had turned all the guys into fucking machines, and there was no telling him no, so I did my best to enjoy it.

What would happen if... I slipped off the ring and found myself in roughly the same position, his dick in a different hole instead. Ouch. I changed back. He came in me soon enough and I slipped quietly out of the auditorium, with the sounds of orgy echoing behind me. I was a man and a woman. Both lives existed at the same time, and I could remember each now.

How could I use this power?

***

After my experience at the highschool I should have stopped. I should have thrown away the ring. I knew that when the magic was strained it stepped over into sexual ridiculousness. The spontaneous orgy at my highschool had really happened, and the highschool itself continued to have a Laissez-faire attitude about sex - that fortunately didn't seem to spread beyond. For the year I spent in the highschool sex happened everywhere. Against lockers, in class rooms, but only with people who had been present at pagent. As we separated the weirdness dispersed with us.

And I had a magic ring. My use of it started with small things as I headed out into the world. I got jobs and salaries as a man and then made sure I slipped into my female form in a way that I would have had to have gotten those same jobs and same salaries.

A man bent on raping me found himself in an ally with a large man. In that form I beat him to pulp then went back to female where - me over him on the ground meant I'd done the same. I started to figure out I could accomplish things as a man and have accomplished them as a woman.

Where others might have explored the differences between men and women - I found a deep distrust of men, inherited from my mother, and only solidified by my experiences with a cock, and not the least challenged by an attempted rape. I wanted to decrease men's power in this world. I wanted to use this power to bring women's power on top.

That's when my plan hit me. It seemed so good. So perfect. I slipped on my ring, and set about trying to become the president of the united states.

It only took me thirty years. Just as I had hoped, sitting in the senator's seat as a man and slipping off my ring, meant I had won the seat as a woman. It was possible - I could be the first female president.

We campaigned and worked and finally - finally - hit the day. I won the vote. I stood on the podium to accept my place as president. The world watched on television. I slipped off my ring.

I don't know why it was too much. Somehow, something in the climate of the United States was such that a female president was an impossibility, an absurdity, and my ring did as it had done before. Thomas, my vice president, who stood next to me on the podium flipped up my skirt and pushed his hard cock into me. The surprise of the action made me fumble and the ring fell from my fingers through the metal grate at my feet.

What I now know is that the ring made Thomas president on a campaign of men's rights. He promised the united states that if he were voted in he would fuck a woman on the podium, and any man could take any woman anytime he wanted.

My senator's skirt around my waist, I pressed against the bulletproof glass as thousands of cameras panned in. President Thomas reached around and tore open my blouse in the iconic shot that I'm sure you've seen of man's victory over woman. My breasts spilled free and the land of the free cheered. The crowd turned into a giant orgy as my moment of victory turned into my moment of shock. I looked out at the cameras with wide eyes that I'm sure you've seen, with defeat not just in the knowledge that I was being fucked on stage, or that President Thomas was cumming in my unprotected pussy, or even that I knew this meant a bad turn for women's rights - but that this had stemmed out of my attempt to defeat patriarchy - and patriarchy had defeated me.

I spent the next few hours being passed around from aid to aid. Sometimes on camera, sometimes not. I had more cocks cum in me that day then I had in all my life before, TVs blared in the background announcing orgies across the nation. My highschool magnified to the national scale.

I remember distinctly lying over a couch an hour or two later. There was a man in me but I couldn't have told you who or even what he looked like. Behind me is the clinking of champaign glasses and the moaning of younger women. In front of me was a TV screen with me getting fucked by the president and male newscasters talking about the change as their female counterparts blew them.

It's toned down a little since then. I'm sure my readers have their own experiences with that day and know how endless sex can't last forever. As an older woman I probably don't get a cock in me more than once a week, and even the younger prettier girls aren't on their backs much more than five or six times a day. It's my hope that in another generation or two the political climate will shift, the magic will fade, and we will return to the normal I should never have meddled with.

***

I went back and looked for the ring of course, but it was long gone. As much as I distrusted that feeling when I had it, I miss being a man sometimes.

Being a man is a completely different experience than being a woman. Not having a male body. That's different, sure, but the real change is having a male soul.

And whenever a man takes me in the grocery store, pushing apart my legs, raising my skirt and slipping into me, I wonder where my ring is, and wish I could just have one try being as happy as a man in our brave new world.