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Macula
by Princess Pervette
They were in a locked chest in my parents' attic. The chest had belonged
to my eccentric Uncle Doug. He had been a distinguished classical scholar
until he mysteriously disappeared years ago when I had been a boy. I was
home visiting my folks and had gone up to the attic to look for something
I had left with them. It had been years since I had been up there, so I
spent some time just looking around at all the old stuff, and that's how
I discovered the chest.
I'm reasonably good at picking locks, having learned the hard way once
when I had managed to lock myself out of my apartment. So I set to work
on the chest. The lock turned out to be simple, and in a minute or two
the chest was open.
It was full of women's clothes. Had Uncle Doug been a crossdresser, too?
Betty, my girlfriend, had talked me into dressing a few times, and I had
decided I liked it. And here was a veritable treasure trove of drag.
Nice stuff, too: lots of underwear and a few dresses. The dresses were a
good twenty years out of style, but I figured I could use the underwear.
It would be easier to sneak the underwear out past my parents' eyes, too.
I was in the process of sorting out the lingerie when I saw the sealed
package. Written in big letters on the package was the word "CAVE!"
Cave? What cave?
Naturally I broke the seal and opened the package. Inside were a bra and
panties, a pair of jockey shorts, and a note. The note was in Latin.
Aha! "Cave!"--"Beware!"
Uncle Doug, bless him, had pushed me into taking Latin in high school, but
that had been ten years ago and I had forgotten everything but the opening
sentence of Caesar's commentaries. Nevertheless, the note was a challenge
and I set myself to doping it out. It was tough going, but as I began to
grasp the meaning I got excited. These were apparently some kind of
magical garments. Put on the bra and panties and you changed into
"femina"--a girl. Put on the jockey shorts and you changed back into
"vir"--a man. Wow! Wait until Betty saw these! The explanation had the
word "proxima"; I think that meant something like nearby or nearest; I'd
have to look that up. There was one sentence in the note that I couldn't
figure out at all; it began with the word "cave"--"beware," again--and
had something to do with "macula"--a stain.
I stuffed the undies and the note into my pocket, put everything else back
into the chest, and locked it again.
****
Betty was a neat girl. The first time I went home with her was memorable;
I'm bisexual, myself, but she had no problem with that and her skills in
bed would be enough to enchant any guy. It wasn't until the second time
we made love that she told me she wanted to dress me up. I had never worn
girls' clothes before, but it sounded kinky and I was keen to try it. It
was fun, and after that she always dressed me up before we went to bed and
insisted that I make love to her wearing a bra and panties. So I wondered
whether these things of Uncle Doug's were for real and, if so, how she
would take to the idea of sex with a man who had temporarily turned into a
girl.
When I got home from my folks' place, I decided I'd better try the magic
undies out. I'd look pretty foolish if I put them on for Betty and nothing
happened. I stripped down that evening and pulled on the panties.
It was the most eerie thing I've ever experienced. No pain, no discomfort
of any kind; just an abrupt transformation. A man one minute; a girl the
next. I just felt strangely different down there, and--sure enough, none
of the usual hardware. I felt myself and, alarmed, drew my hand back.
I was still flat-chested. I supposed it took the bra to give me boobs.
But I was worried: those jockeys had better work, too, or I was in deep
trouble. I pulled off the panties--no change; I was still a girl. I got
the jockeys and, as I drew them on, noticed a faint stain in the crotch.
"Macula!"...a stain! What in hell did that untranslatable warning mean?
Well--no time for that now; I pulled the jockeys up to my pussy, and, to
my immense relief, felt my male hardware coming back.
This was fun! I put the panties back and felt myself turning into a girl
down there. I put on the bra and, sure enough, a pretty pair of perky
breasts adorned my chest. I tentatively tried to talk: would I have a
girl's voice, too? Yes: I said, "My goodness, how nice this is!" and the
words came out in a natural, high-pitched girl's voice. Then I thought of
something else and felt my face. No beard! And I realized that something
was tickling my shoulders: long hair. I looked in the mirror. Holy shit!
--I looked like the girl next door.
So that's how it all started. I wanted to go to bed as a girl that night,
but decided I'd better not. These magic garments were still largely an
unknown quantity, and I thought it might not be a good idea to stay
transformed for too long. Besides, I'd have to go to work in the morning
and didn't want to have to change back in a hurry. So I reluctantly took
off the bra and panties and put on the jockeys again. Back to manhood.
Betty and I were getting together that Friday night and I looked forward to
surprising her. I wondered how she would respond to the transformation.
If she didn't want a lesbian encounter, she could always use the jockeys
and make love to me as a man. The more I thought of this, the better I
liked it. Even when I had sex with guys, I liked playing the girl in bed;
with Betty, if she was cooperative, I could be a real girl for a real guy.
This was getting more and more interesting.
****
Betty loved the idea. I showed her the undies and the note. She didn't
know any Latin, and she was mighty impressed that Uncle Doug had written
the note and that I had been able to dope most of it out.
"Well, come on, Girl!" she exclaimed. "Let's see you!"
We stripped down. I put on the bra and panties and Betty stared at me.
"You're ME!" she cried. "You've turned into an exact copy of me!"
We stood next to each other and looked in the mirror. She was right: we
could have been twins. What happened to that girl-next-door look I had
had? Then I remembered that word, "proxima"; did that mean you turned
into a copy of the *nearest* girl? I'll bet it did.
"Well, go on, honey," I said. "Put on the jockeys. I want to see what you
turn into." She drew them on and...my God! She had turned into me! The
nearest guy. I reached into her jockeys and started fondling her, and she
started feeling my breasts.
We were in bed in moments. Fortunately, the sex changes persisted even
after you had taken off the underwear. I'll skip the sexy details; let me
just say that, as much as I had enjoyed sex with other guys in the past, I
had never enjoyed giving any guy a blow job as much as I enjoyed it with
Betty. And, after she had recovered from the experience, she fucked me
divinely. I'll tell you a secret: having a guy up your butt is a
marvellous experience, but it simply can't compare with having him up
your pussy.
We slept together in our new sexes that night. The next morning, we
decided we had better make sure we could still change back. No problem.
We had planned to go hiking the next day, but after the previous night's
experiences, we ditched that plan. That whole weekend was one long orgy.
Sometimes I was the man and she the woman, but more often we swapped.
****
Monday, at work, I was still coming down from the weekend. And then I
thought of something. Betty and I had a mutual friend, a big, handsome
guy named Steve. Steve had the hots for Betty and I had the hots for
Steve. But Steve was straight and hated queers, and Betty wasn't
interested in Steve.
You've guessed it, haven't you? What a neat solution to everything if I
could turn into Betty and lure Steve into the sack! Steve would get what
he wanted and I would get what I wanted. And Betty...? Well...I'd make it
up to her somehow.
The first stage in the plan was to get Betty used to the idea of going out
in public in our reversed sexes. That was no trouble at all; as soon as I
mentioned the possibility, she wanted to try it. The next Saturday, she
came over to my place, and we swapped sexes and clothes. We went outdoors;
it was a nice day, and we walked around a bit. I felt a little funny
holding hands with a man in public, but then I realized that it would look
perfectly natural: a guy and a girl walking together and holding hands.
As luck would have it, we bumped into Steve. Betty had gone off to the
men's room, and so I was alone when Steve came into view. He gave me a big
smile.
"Betty! My favorite chick!"
I could see why Betty was turned off; Steve didn't know the meaning of
the word "subtle." But that didn't bother me; even turned into Betty's
lookalike, I found Steve a hot guy and wanted him as badly as ever. I
gave him a big smile.
"Steve! My favorite hunk!"
God, how often I had wished I could talk to him like that! Steve was
astonished. He was used to Betty's bored dismissals and never expected a
reply like that.
I had to work fast. Betty would be back any minute. Fortunately, Steve's
lack of finesse helped. Within seconds he had asked me for a date and I
had accepted. He would pick me up next Saturday. No; that wouldn't work;
he would go to Betty's and...no, wait!...if I played my cards right, he
would find me as Betty when he went there. Fine. Now all I had to do was
talk Betty into it.
He was gone by the time Betty came back. She had taken longer than she
expected.
"I had to wait for a booth, and it wasn't until I was inside and sitting
down that I remembered that I was a guy and could have used a urinal.
Boy, you guys sure have it easy when you pee!"
****
It was a good thing the date was nearly a full week off. It took nearly
the whole week to talk Betty into cooperating.
"But you *won't* be dating Steve!" I protested. "You don't have to do a
thing. I'll be a girl--I'll be you, and when he's pawing you, he'll really
be pawing me. You don't have to do a thing!"
"Yeah, I don't have to do a thing except spend a perfectly good Saturday
night all alone. Thanks a lot."
But in the end, she agreed, reluctantly. "Just so all this doesn't get
me preggers," she said.
"It isn't as if we had swapped bodies," I objected. "I'm just a clone.
You'll be safe."
"We hope," she said.
The big day came. Betty and I had swapped the night before and had our
usual fun in bed. Then Saturday evening I started to dress up. But I ran
into an unexpected problem.
I had started having my period.
Shit! That meant no sex with Steve. I had planned to let him go "all the
way," and now this!
"I should have warned you," Betty said. "I figured it was due pretty soon,
but I didn't think it would be until Monday. Well, you'll just have to
live with it--unless you want to call him and cancel the date."
I couldn't see doing that. I never heard of a girl cancelling for that
reason, and certainly not on a first date. Betty got out a box of tampons
and showed me how to insert one. What a mess. But what a relief.
With that problem, the date was sort of an anticlimax. Steve started
getting amorous the moment I got into his car, and when I explained my
problem and apologized, he was disappointed. But I offered to give him a
blow job. I didn't know whether Betty would let me do this again, and I
had to make the most of this opportunity while it lasted. Well...I had
always wanted to get Steve's cock into my mouth, and I did.
Just to make my frustration complete, Steve turned out to be a lousy lover.
At least, he was a lousy blow job. He was one of those guys who won't
touch you while you make love to him; just stared off into space as if he
didn't want to have anything to do with what was going on between his legs.
Nevertheless, I had had my experience with Steve, and I guess it was just
as well that he was such a let-down; I probably wouldn't get another chance
with him, and after seeing what he was like, I didn't particularly want
another chance.
****
When he dropped me off at Betty's place, disaster struck. I got up to
Betty's room, undressed, and we swapped underwear & sexes. Yikes! Agony!
Unspeakable pain! I cried out.
"Jim! What's the matter?"
"My balls! They're killing me!" I tore the jockeys back off and Betty
bent down to examine me.
"Jim, my God!--that tampon--it's inside your scrotum!"
"What?"
"Well...you know, it figures. In the embryo, the scrotum is formed from
the same tissue that forms the vaginal lips in a woman."
"Spare me the biology, Betty. Oooooh! This is killing me! Get me the
panties, quick."
She got them and kept talking. "And when you changed back to a man, that
tampon had to go somewhere, and...."
"Why the hell couldn't it have gone up my ass?" I groaned. "I'm used to
having...."
"That's enough of *that*! Here." She handed me the panties.
I could hardly get the panties on fast enough. And when I bent over to get
my foot in, I thought I was going to die from the pain. Betty finally put
them on me as I sat in agony on the bed.
She drew them up. Blessed relief! I was a woman again, and the pain was
gone.
Now what to do? I had to pull the tampon out.
"Not in here, dummy!" Betty said. "In the bathroom"!
I went into the bathroom and came right out again. "I need the jockeys."
I took the jockeys back with me. I sat down on the toilet and pulled the
string on the tampon. I had always accepted that having a period was a
nuisance for a girl, but I didn't realize it fully until now. I was clumsy
and got blood all over the place. And as I drew on the jockeys, I dripped
on them. Right next to the old, faded stain that had been on them when I
first saw them.
I pulled them up.
Nothing happened.
They weren't working.
I yelled to Betty. She came in and saw me--a girl in a pair of jockeys
that were getting soaked with menstrual blood. She started to laugh; then
when she saw the look on my face, she stopped. Without a word, she reached
me a tampon. That at least stopped the flow. I got into the tub and
washed off. And I threw the jockeys into the sink and hastily washed them
off.
"Where's that note?"
"What note?"
"The note in Latin that came with these damned things. I left it here."
She rummaged around while I fumed. "Here."
Now I had to figure out what the note said. I sat down at her desk and
began to write out a translation, slowly and carefully. I beat my brains
out over the mystery sentence and finally unraveled it:
Beware of any stain from your own body fluids on the garments;
such a stain renders the garments ineffective for the owner.
Oh, my God. "Macula." Was that what had happened to Uncle Doug? Was
that why he had mysteriously disappeared? I remembered the faded stain on the
jockeys. I looked at them now, dripping dry over the tub. There were two
faded stains on them now.
Betty was looking over my shoulder. "Jim! Does that mean what I think it
means?"
"Shit, I hope not. If it does, I'm you for good. What a disaster that
will be!"
"Thank you very much, Dear," she said. "I've managed being me for a
quarter of a century."
"You know what I mean. You're supposed to be you. I'm not. I'm supposed
to be me. I mean, I'm supposed to be Jim."
"But if they stopped working for your uncle, why did they work for you?"
"It says, `ineffective *for the owner*,'" I pointed out. I explained
about Uncle Doug and his mysterious disappearence.
"You mean, once you were the owner--well, they were in your possession, on
your body--they worked for you even though they had stopped working for
him"
"Something like that, I guess."
"Hmm. I wonder whether they still work for me."
"What good will that do me?" I asked.
"I don't know, but the more we know about this business, the more likely we
will be to fix you. I mean, to fix your problem."
She got the sodden jockeys off the hook, wrung them out in a bath towel
until they were only damp, and slipped them on.
She was me.
I sat there and looked at her. We both sat there and looked at each other.
And Betty got a look on her face.
"You and Steve had your fun, and I've been sitting here all evening with
nothing to do but watch TV. I think it's my turn. You gave Steve a blow
job, didn't you? Don't deny it."
I nodded.
"Well, you can jolly well give me one now. Come on, Girl. Give." She
pulled the damp jockeys down and my erection--I mean, her erection--sprang
up.
What the hell, I thought. Maybe a little more cock will be a consolation
while I figure out what to do about this predicament.
I knelt before her, still in my bra and panties, and satisfied her.
She came in buckets, it seemed. That wasn't fair! I rarely came so
powerfully when I was in my own body. Her come filled my mouth.
You read porn stories about cum overflowing someone's mouth? Let me tell
you, that doesn't happen in real life; one can always swallow fast enough.
At least, it doesn't ordinarily happen. But when you're taken by surprise
as I was, and not when you've just been through a bunch of monumentally
unsettling experiences as I had that evening.... In spite of everything,
her cum got all over me.
All over my bra and all over my panties.
You saw that coming, too, didn't you? When Betty put them on to change
back, they were stained with *her* body fluids, and--that's right--they
didn't work.
****
It has been pretty interesting, living my life as Betty. Betty says it's
pretty interesting being Jim, too.
And I just learned that Steve has knocked me up.
Princess Pervette,
September, 1997
Hester
- 06.06.2021
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