X-Change: Spring Break!

Note: All of the characters in this story are over the age of eighteen. This story does not represent any real people or groups. Any errors or omissions are my own. Speaking of which: I did include some Spanish dialogue in this. I am not a fluent Spanish speaker by any means. I did ask some Spanish speaking coworkers for some input, but any errors with it are mine. It does contain some references to drugs, but I don't glamorize it. Also, some of the behaviors and actions of certain people are not condoned. Ultimately, this is a fantasy. It does contain a seemingly magical transformation. I didn't create X-change or the concept. I'm just a fan of the original gifs online. Google them. Also, there are some great X-Change stories here on the website. Check those stories out and give those writers some love. I dedicate this story to my sister. She didn't write the words, but definitely had plenty of input. As always: check the story tags. If you don't want that, then maybe leave this one be. Enjoy.              

The overhead sun beat down on everyone at the beach. It was oppressive—at least it was for me. I don't think that the others cared. They danced, they drank, and did crazy things that they didn't do anywhere else. At least that was my understanding while traveling back and forth from my hotel room to the lobby—and only venturing outside to get a taste of the heat before retreating. This was my only vacation of the year.

I wanted to go home.

That wasn't an option though. My friends and I had pooled our money together and the agreement was that everyone got their share of fun. No backing out. We were supposed to have fun. I just wasn't made for it apparently.

I did venture out onto the balcony of the hotel room. The scene down below looked like one giant party, but in reality, it was a blending of several organized and spontaneous events that had bled into each other. This made it all the more impressive for both the News outlets that needed footage of young people being young people for the D-block portion on the evening News or the streamers who were hoping to get any free content that wasn't quite porn, but could satisfy perverts somewhere. My friend Craig was a champion of that activity. He was always the entrepreneur looking to sell anything. Spring break always promised lots of boob footage and girls making poor choices.

Craig was blowing up my phone with texts: "Get down here, dude. This is unreal. Chicks are getting naked everywhere. People are fucking. Not kidding!"

It was tempting, but I'd become such a creature of comfort.

"Maybe when the heat goes down," I responded.

I wanted to join them. I did. The nice thing about the hotel room during a trip like this was that most everyone spent their time outside. I had it completely to myself. A comfy room, that I would have never been able to afford by myself, with the air conditioner blasting was my idea of heaven. Why would I want to leave? There had been one moment though. Not long after we'd first arrived, we hit the beach in the morning, because everyone from out of town does that. A local photographer was plying their trade and offered to take our picture. We did it, and the professionally done print was sitting on the desk in the hotel room. It showed the five of us on the beach having the time of our lives. Even I looked happy in it. Yet I was happiest in the room.

Hours later—following an off and on nap and mindlessly watching unfamiliar local T.V channels, I was finally moved by some force to take a cold shower and dress for a night out. A very nice pair of khaki shorts and a fancier Hawaiian shirt that I'd originally bought for a wedding. Some people would probably call me a dork or that I dressed like an "old man", but I thought that I looked cool, and confidence was the X-factor in picking up the ladies—or so I had read on-line.

My friends met up with me down in the lobby. They pounded Red Bulls and water to keep going with their long day. A couple of them went up to the room to change. This included Chad, of course, who always dressed up to play the role of a walking meme. When Chad came back down, he tossed Craig a crisp white polo shirt that Craig quickly pulled over his sunburnt chest. It sort of went with his swim trunks and flip flops. Some generous people said that Craig looked like a cheap American version of Ed Sheeran, and for some reason once he got into online-streaming he decided that his thing was going to be wearing a scarf all the time. Even when the sun was melting people on Miami beach. We were rounded out by Tanner and Kyle. Tanner was actually taller than Chad, but had a broad and thin swimmer's body. Kyle was just Kyle. I mean: you know what a Kyle looks like.

Craig said, "We can take an Uber down the beach to the Fontainebleau hotel. People are saying that real celebrities will be there and the desperate chicks will be turning up in hordes. So, I need all of you to draw 'em in and I'll film it. We gotta get that good footage."

"Can't we just have fun?" I asked.

"We are. And we're trying to get some views. People are demanding us to record and represent this shit. Be happy to be a part of it. Maybe you'll even get your dick wet."

I wasn't sure how I felt about all it, but we were there. I had to embrace it on some level.

I said, "Well, I'm off for the next several days. Why not? What's the worst that could happen?"

I had no idea the fate that I was tempting when I said that shit. It just wasn't fair. And so it was that my friends and I summoned and Uber Plus that drove the five of us down the busy street that lined the beach. When we got out of the car we were in front of a much larger hotel. My friends piled out of the minivan and I reluctantly joined them.

Craig asked, "What's wrong, bro?"

"Nothing."

"I know this isn't normally your thing," he said. "But we put this together to change our lives, bro."

"Okay. I'm going along with it."

"I want more than that. I want you to cut loose. Party. Get laid. You're a miserable introvert, Hunter. You need to fix that."

I couldn't deny Craig's assessment. Sometimes it was difficult to imagine how I ended up with this group of friends. Yes, I was an athlete in college and high school: wrestling, but a whole bunch of people in athletics are also kind nerdy in my experience. Yes, the "jock" stereotype has some truth to it, but the world of school athletics has a complex spectrum. My friends turned out to be fairly douchey bros and I was usually right there with them. Guilty by association.

Craig continued, "As always, I got a plan." He held up a nylon bag. "I know a dealer back home who was moving. He sold me a grab bag of all his party favors at a discount."

"You bought drugs?"

Craig smacked me on the chest—hard. "You want to say that louder, bro? Jesus! Just go with it, okay? Anyways, I got us covered. We got xtacy, Special K , and mollies. I got uppers and downers. Things that will make chicks super horny, and pills that will give you the greatest errection in the history of man. I even got some weird experimental shit that I've only heard rumors about. A party in a bag."

"This doesn't sound safe."

"Not with that attitude. Be positive. I'm sure that I got something in this bag to help you with that."

The Uber pulled away and left us to our fate. What a fate it was! The Fontainebleau hotel was a massive curved edifice joined by an equally large expansion building to its right. To me it was big on a new scale. It was recognized as a historical landmark. So big that part of it was able to be leased out as a series of condos. Back home, the biggest building in our city was the court house. I could've just stayed outside and taken in the grandeur of it all, but Crag would not be deterred.

"I know it's fancy," he said. "Don't get distracted. We have a mission, my bros."

We entered the hotel grounds and through it an amazing galaxy of competing sounds. There were staccato beats of techno music from multiple angles and I also heard some of the local rappers of Miami dropping their music while throngs of partygoers danced. There were garish flashing lights. Smoke. Several stations that had misters set up because the heat was lingering well into the night. All of these things combined to create a strange visceral atmosphere around the grand edifice. Like it was some giant living thing. A lustful heart beating with energy and life on the shore of Miami beach. As I entered, I couldn't help but fear crossing some unknown threshold. A forbidden barrier. An I willingly stepped inside.

A set of giant chandeliers hung inside the lobby. The interior was a dream of blues and golds. We followed Craig to the back of the building toward the lobby bar. The area was awash with people coming and going. Many were only semi-dressed beach or party goers, but there were other people who were dolled up for an evening on the town. Some of them thumbed their noses at the young party guests. These were the normal hotel guests that had money and swank, but had no tolerance for our kind. I understood them totally. I suddenly missed the quiet and the comfort of our own hotel room. I wondered if I could sneak away, but Craig and the others would never let me. They had a grand vision.

Not long after we stood in our own little circle. Each with a drink in his hand. I had to admit that it was one of the fanciest short bar glasses that I'd ever seen, but the liquid inside of it was something that I hated.

Craig led the toast. He said, "Nothing says we ballin' like some Hennessy. To us, gentlemen."

Everyone drank. I tried to do it, but there had always been something off about cognac and brandy to me. More power to the people who like it. I feel the same way about Jägermeister.

It was Chad who noticed my hesitation, and slapped my shoulder. "C'mon, bro. Turn that glass up."

There was no arguing with Chad. He more than lived up to his name. Chad always kept track of how much he could dead-lift or bench-press. If you didn't know how much you could lift, he needed to know what was wrong with you. When you got close to him you learned that he used a lot of powerful cologne and that he shaved his chest and most everything else except his head and his chin beard. Chad was very proud of his grooming habits and for some reason wore a gold ankle bracelet. Chad was well...Chad.

I finished my drink at his urging. "Good," he said. "You gotta support your bros, bruh."

There was little arguing with that logic. No one argued with Chad.

Craig laid out the plan, and then the game was on. We went back outside toward the pool areas. It was larger than anything that I'd seen before. Something out of a movie. There were multiple pools with adjoining bars and on the outskirts were a series of cabanas that could be reserved. Someone had once described a cabana as a party tent, but they were bigger than any tent I'd ever been in.

"The real crazy shit happens in those," said Craig. "We'll get in eventually. For now, get to work, boys."

So much about that night was transformed into a blur. We bought so many drinks for people and then sometimes they bought ours. I'd finish one and tell myself that I needed to stop. Then another drink would mysteriously appear. To my shame I drank them all. I should've known better, but being embedded with my bros...that was always the danger of being so close.

Things got hazy.

We ended up in one of the notorious cabanas. It had emptied out a bit, but still had some wild stuff going on. I remembered watching two girls taking turns sucking on Chad's uncircumcised cock. I didn't know that he was uncut, and seeing it for the first time was something else. Then I remembered waking up during one of the quieter moments.

Kyle was talking to the Craig and the others. He said, "We don't have it, bro. We don't have the money to roll with some of these people. My card is tapped."

"We can't be out-gamed," said Chad. "We need something good."

I mumbled something in my drunken stupor. I don't know what and no one responded anyway. I realized that they were all looking at me and I laughed.

Craig took charge. "I got this, my bros. Desperate times and desperate measures. The good news is that we have options." He pulled up his nylon bag. "You dudes don't mind cheating a little bit, do you?"

The dudes had no problem with that.

"Order us some Jägermeister," he said.

"That's my drink," I blurted out.

"Yeah, bro."

I wasn't in a position to understand things like nuance and subtlety. My bros escorted me to a more isolated area. I thought that it was weird, but was too drunk to wonder why. For those who don't know what drinking is like: it's hard to explain. You're existing in reality but then not. You really should get drunk at least once and see how it works. The experience will be educational. The drinks arrived. I don't recall seeing Craig putting the pill in my drink. Should I have suspected? Jaeger is a dark drink and a strong flavor. Probably not.

I drank my shot of Jägermeister without question. The others applauded me for it. Why would I suspect something was wrong? I was fine for a time. Drunk, stupid, and happy. The primary reason that people drink. Then it hit me like a sudden food poisoning. I'd eventually learn that it usually doesn't, but then everyone is different. We also can't discount the fact that the pill came from a drug slinger's closeout inventory. It may have been a knockoff or contaminated.

Entire portions of my body were trying to drift like the continents in the time of Pangea. It was primordial and intense. Painful. And very frightening. The alcohol daze that I had left me slightly more subdued than I may have otherwise been. At least I hoped that it was that.

My bones cracked and shifted. I felt my khaki shorts get tight as my hips reformed and my ass became something that was much plumper. I watched in utter disbelief as two large lumps sprung forth from my chest like volcanoes arising during the primordial earth that happened to be covered by my Hawaiian shirt.

Kyle was looking at my transformation awestruck. He said, "That's fucking unreal, man."

Craig was laughing. "Yeah," he said. "Miguel told me about these things. The general public don't know about them too much, but I guess the pills are on the dark web and a couple of big pharma companies sell them on the down-low for the rich perverts."

Chad couldn't help himself. He reached over and groped my left breast as it was finalizing its creation. "Real enough for me," said Chad.

"It's all real," said Craig. "She's going to be real for everybody."

Finally, I composed myself enough to ask: "What's happening to me?" Then the pain and bizarre nature of the change seized my voice along with any control that I still had.

Craig said, "Well, my bro, the boys and I discussed it, and we feel that you would be the best person to take one for the team."

"It's not like it's going to be hard," said Chad, then he looked to Craig. "Are these pills going to make her dumb?"

"Not exactly," said Craig. "Normally these pills change a person to the opposite sex. Pink to make guys into girls and blue to make girls into guys. If they keep taking the pills too much they start to become more like the new person every time and the drug builds up in their body. There are other types that are more intense. Xtra-Strength lasts longer and includes a chance to get pregnant. I even have a pack of X-Change Plus pills that makes this shit permanent."

"Permanent?" asked Tanner.

"Yeah. Fucking nuts. Not sure what I'll do with those. Anyway, these particular pills are something that was altered after the original run. 'Spiked' or so Miguel said. Our bro Hunter, or should I say 'babe' will be much more open to suggestion and be naturally sluttier. She may be the 'THOT' that we need."

I clutched at my cock and balls as they retreated into my body and reformed into a very different reproductive system. I cried out in shock—then caught my voice in my throat as I realized that it was no longer my own. After much effort, I managed to sit up in the booth. When I did so, locks of dark brown hair fell over my eyes. I brushed them aside and struggled to take stock of my new world.

I said, "What just happened?"

Craig said, "We're getting wild tonight, Hunter. You told me to give you one of those X-change pills."

"I did?"

"Yeah, bro. It worked. Here, look."

Craig took a picture of me with his phone and showed it to me. I saw a rather bewildered-looking brunette staring back at me. Her big chest straining obscenely against a Hawaiian shirt.

"Why would I do this?"

I was crying suddenly.

"No, no," said Craig, touching my shoulder tenderly. "Don't cry, honey. It's all good. Right, bros?"

"Yeah," they all agreed.

"You did this because you wanted to help us get some good footage and have a good time. You said that you wanted us to call you 'Hailey'."

"Hailey?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

It was difficult for me to process certain things. I still knew that I was 'Hunter', but there was something so intriguing about 'Hailey'. Despite how uncomfortable I was in the clothes that I was wearing, there was no denying the fact that I felt fantastic. In the back of my mind was a little voice trying to explain something to me. It wasn't getting through though. A new part—the great feeling part was loud and spreading its influence throughout my being.

I looked around at the guys and realized that they were all staring at me.

"What?"

Craig relaxed. "You all good, Hailey?"

I smiled. "Can I get some better clothes? These look like something a dork would wear."

They all laughed. Longer than I would've expected, and I nervously joined in as I wasn't sure what else to do. Eventually it settled down. They all agreed with me and that made me feel so good. The next day the game began.

The guy with the bullhorn was too loud. I understood why he needed to be heard. I mean: I had a contest to win, but the asshole didn't need to be aiming right into my ear.

"And now, contestant number two," he blared out for all close by to wince at.

I stepped out into the center of the small platform and shook my big tits beneath the cheap white t-shirt. A few guys with large water pistols began spraying me with cold water. I did my part and tried to catch as much of the water as I could. Even though they were aiming for my breasts, it was hard to gauge the audience reaction and that was what mattered. I smiled. Did my little dance that I'd come up with on the fly, and pretty soon the cold water had been sprayed enough so people could see my breasts and my hard nipples.

The people all around me cheered louder. That was cool, but some assholes shook up their beers and sprayed me with sticky, semi-warm low carb beer. I did my best to avoid them, and retreated from the stage when I had the chance.

I came in second place, but that was fine. The prize was the same thing that it had been for the last game we played: another drink and more cheers. I'd lost track of how many drinks I'd had. I told myself that it was fine. I was having fun. I was on vacation after all. There had to be some relaxation.

Chad met me at the base of the platform. A couple of would-be creeps skittered away from me when they saw Chad approach. He was out in proper form. All six and a half feet of him with his bronze skin, six pack abs, and a chin that could hammer lesser men into the ground like nails. More than one girl was jealous when they saw him take my hand and lead me away.

Chad said, "You did good, cutie. A little competition goes a long way."

Craig and the boys had a plan. I was the "plant" and they were clear about that with me. I was there to be seen and set the example. If a girl like me was willing to do crazy things, then surely other girls would follow suit. Everything was being filmed by Craig, of course, and in the worst-case scenario they had plenty of footage of me getting wild. The boys seemed happy with the arrangement and no small part of me definitely felt that. I could remember who I was before as "Hunter": uncomfortable and mostly unhappy, but as "Hailey" I was actually pretty happy. People really liked me.