Shift Happens Lionel
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The Great Shift: One Man's Opinion free porn video
GS: One Man's Opinion
By Tanto
Two fifty-five. Five more minutes to go, I thought, as I
glanced once again at the clock on the wall.
It was Friday. I was in my last period of the day, World
Geography, taught by the closest thing to a witch I'd ever met, a
fat, ugly old hag who loves to torment us by giving us bad grades
on the most spurious of grounds. To my left was Courtney Bitz, a
blonde sophomore, who's a good friend of mine. To my right was
the other Courtney, Courtney Coffey, a freshman- er, freshwoman-
who was the tallest girl in the school. And across from me,
smirking like a mad monkey, was John Hollins, my best bud, who
nonetheless always gets a kick out of needling me.
Me, I'm a freshman too. My teachers all think that I'm
smarter than most of the seniors, though. Other than my advanced
intellect, I'm pretty average. I shot another glimpse at the
clock. Two fifty-seven. The last period on Friday is always the
longest time of the week. Have you ever noticed that?
I was sitting there, trying not to fall asleep as the
teacher droned on and on- and on, and on- about the problems
Russia and the Eurasian Republics have been facing ever since the
collapse of the Soviet Union, and the racial backgrounds of the
Caucasians, and the nuclear disaster at Chernobyl, and a bunch of
other useless facts that adults never use but say that we'll need
someday.
Two fifty-nine. C'mon, clock, spare me! This madness must
end!
I don't know why the principal insists that the teachers
keep right on doing their thing up until the bell actually rings.
He's got a German background, I'm told. Maybe his father was a
Nazi. That would explain a hell of a lot. I mean, maybe playing
Game Boy in class isn't the best diversion to use during a
lecture, but I think that two weeks of detention is a little
unreasonable, don't you?
Three 'o' clock! Finally! I scooped up my backpack and
bolted, not even bothering to gather up the doodle I'd been
working on for the past half-hour.
After a short stop by my locker to grab the materials I'd
need to write the paper due Monday- which would no doubt be
completed approximately nine seconds before the teacher came
around to collect it- I was out of there, and not a moment too
soon. The human river that came bursting out of the school's
single pair of doors (who came up with that bright idea?)
swallowed me up almost before I could yell, "Stampede!"
I paused only slightly to glance at the small group of
cheerleaders who were heading to their last practice before the
big game tonight. The cheerleaders, as cliques go, were not as
powerful here as the clich?s would suggest. That is to say, they
weren't the centers of attention that they seemed to be in other
schools, and because of the small attendance of this school, they
weren't too numerous. Because of this, they weren't as spitefully
arrogant as they were reputed to be. In fact, they were rather
nice. Most of the guys in my grade don't really like the
cheerleaders at our school, but I did.
I raced home as fast as I could. I grabbed my usual snack
of Combos and a cup of Dr. Pepper, and hustled into the den,
where my video games were. I picked up my N64 controller and
immediately started up again on my newly acquired The Legend of
Zelda: Majora's Mask video game.
After about an hour of gaming, my snacks were gone and I
was stuck in a particular area. I decided to watch a little TV
before getting some dinner and going to the game.
*-*-*
Small-town high school football games are, in our town at
least, the social events of the school year, topped only by the
prom and homecoming dance. Virtually everyone in town attends,
because virtually everyone in town is related in some form or
another to one of the people involved. The home games are really
bad, because the bleachers are usually packed and the concession
stands need their own parking lot. I'm joking, but not by much.
I sought out one of my friends, Tommy Johnson, a couple
minutes before the game started. Tommy's about average height,
but he's blocky and well built and he's on the JV team. I didn't
have any classes with Tommy that semester, but we were still good
friends. He was involved in an argument with his dad about the
NFL at the moment, so I just said hi and leaned against the rail
to wait for the game's beginning.
We lost the flip and had to kick off. The band did a drum
roll while the kicker ran towards the ball. The ball went flying
in a graceful arc, an opposing player caught it, and ran straight
to the end zone with almost no interference from the home team.
Several fathers started cussing.
I love the subtleties of high school football, don't you?
At halftime, Tommy, I, and a couple of our friends met up
with Tommy's girlfriend, Meghan, and the rest of the JV
cheerleading squad after they got off from selling bulletins.
Meghan is this really short girl- I mean, we're talking less than
five feet here- with blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes. She's
got a relatively good figure- if she were full size, I'd guess
that she'd have a D-cup- and she's really sweet. I've secretly
had a crush on her for years, but the day I admit that is the day
they open a Popsicle stand in Hell.
When third quarter started up, the visitors immediately ran
in for another touchdown, but there was nothing new about that.
Our team sucks. I'm told that last season, they had more losses
than points.
I was getting kind of bored with watching the football team
get run into the ground, so I turned my head and looked at the
varsity cheerleaders instead. One of them in particular- a
Jennifer Donald- really caught my eye. She was the captain of the
cheerleading squad, and she was stunningly beautiful. She was a
brunette with icy blue eyes and this luscious figure, with a
flat, trim stomach, a tiny, sculptured waist, and wide, flowing
hips. Her breasts were medium sized D-cups, firm and full.
I was admiring her when it happened. I felt the wave hit
me. It was as if suddenly everything froze for a second, and I
felt a sudden jerking throughout my entire being, almost as if I
were caught in some kind of explosion. It hit me so suddenly, I
didn't know what happened, only that I felt this horrible
wrenching. Then I blanked out.
When I woke up, I could immediately feel that something was
different. It was nothing I could specifically put my finger on,
it was just that everything felt... wrong.
Then I looked at myself.
Two large, round mounds pressed out of my chest.
I was a girl.
I stood up, noting in passing how much smaller I was, and
looked around. I was standing in front of the bleachers. A row of
cheerleaders lay collapsed by my side. I counted them out and
found that one was missing. I began to get a sinking feeling that
I was that one.
Thoroughly depressed now, I began to mentally tag the
remaining cheerleaders, noticing absently that people were
beginning to wake up. When I had finished naming the cheerleaders
on the ground, I knew that I had the body of the very cheerleader
I had been admiring earlier. It always seems to work out that
way, doesn't it?
Picture this situation. You're at a football game, ignoring
the home team getting stomped, and admiring the perfect
attributes of the head cheerleader, just like you always do.
Then, boom, you black out, and when you wake up, you have those
attributes.
It's the kind of thing that tends to dishearten you.
I was snapped back to reality by the sound of screaming.
Coming from various places on the football field, people were
waking up, noticing their unusual circumstances, and bawling like
babies- as if that would fix things.
Mankind's first reaction to any disheartening situation is
to scream about it. This seems, to me, to indicate that our
society has becoming disgustingly infantile. It's my personal
opinion that when stuff like the cataclysmic swapping of the
bodies of just about all the people in the world happens, you
should start looking for answers instead of sitting around and
crying about it.
A short Hispanic cheerleader with boobs even bigger than
the ones I now had woke up and groggily looked at her hand, and
then at me. Inevitably, she started screaming, before getting up
and running over to where I was standing.
"Give me back my body!" she sobbed.
"I didn't take your body," I said harshly, roughly pushing
her away. I looked around, noticing my mahogany hair shift
positions. Jennifer wore her hair short, but it was still longer
than I was used to. "I think this happened to everyone."
"I'm Catalina Richards now!" she shrieked.
"And don't you want to find out why?" Over time, I've found
that a bit of asperity is the best cure for hysterics. She calmed
down and looked at me with confusion.
"What happened?" she asked, wiping tears from her eyes.
"I think that everybody in the football field- or maybe
even more wide-ranging than that- swapped bodies," I speculated.
"I'm guessing everyone will go home, try to reunite with their
families."
My guess appeared to be correct. The announcer- or whoever
was in his body- instructed everyone present to go home and try
to find their families while they ("they" meaning the government,
I assumed) attempted to find the cause of the swaps.
Incidentally, I'm told that since we were behind when the
game was called, the victory went to the visitors.
Some people are total fanatics.
As I headed to the exit, Jennifer stopped me. "Who... who
did you used to be?" she asked.
"Eric Wright," I muttered.
I went home on foot. The football field is a good mile away
from my home, and half of that is uphill. Strangely- or maybe not
so strangely- though, I didn't feel exhausted when I got there.
Probably because my new body was in better shape than my old one.
At my home, I found that- except for me- my family was more
or less unchanged. My mother had been swapped with a woman who
appeared to be about the same age as her, maybe a few years
younger. My sister had been reciprocated with one of her friends,
and my father, much to my surprise, was unchanged. I immediately
began to revise my theory. Allison teased me about my unexpected
gender change until mom told her shortly to shut up so we could
hear the emergency newscast.
We were told the facts, or what the government thought were
the facts. There had been an explosion somewhere in the southwest
United States that had caused some type of energy to encircle the
globe within minutes, swapping around about ninety-three percent
of the world's population. I did some quick math. "That's about
thirteen out of every fourteen people," I pointed out.
"Thirteen?" Mom asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Roughly," I said, shrugging my newly slender shoulders.
You probably already know about all of this- unless you've
been living on the moon. The chaos caused by the Great Shift-
people were already calling it that- was enormous, of course. As
well as the to-be-expected identity confusion, there were also
car accidents where children or infants had been shifted into the
bodies of drivers; airplane crashes where passengers had been
shifted into the bodies of pilots, and the total collapse of the
jailing system. Some of the worst incidents were when doctors got
swapped out of their bodies during surgery or something, leaving
behind someone with no clue what they were doing.
We were released from school, of course.
I went upstairs, feigning exhaustion. Though it was quite
late and I was quite tired, my bed wasn't the main reason I
wanted to be alone. I went into my room and locked the door. Then
I began taking off my clothes.
When I stripped out of Jennifer's cheerleading uniform, I
saw that I was wearing silky black panties and a black bra that
restrained my new breasts. After only a moment's hesitation, I
removed the bra as well.
My breasts were large, but not enormous. Even so, since I'd
never had any before, they seemed sort of huge to me. They were
soft and spongy, yet firm. Because of their large size, their
inner sides pressed warmly against each other, giving me- I
shuddered- cleavage. Their great weight pulling against my chest
and shoulders felt so weird that I couldn't imagine ever getting
used to them.
My nipples, formerly virtually nonexistent, were now much
larger, about the size of quarter dollars. They erected
immediately when I touched them with an exploratory finger,
sending strange feelings rippling through my brain as my boobs
jiggled wildly in reaction. I hefted my mammaries and sighed. My
supple breasts overflowed my small, girlish hands with a
smothering; yielding softness that mercilessly showed me just how
female I had become.
Almost totally naked, I sighed again as I beheld the body I
would probably own for the rest of my life. My body was
completely hairless, save for the well-trimmed bush that
surrounded my nether regions. Mine was girl's flesh, baby-like in
its softness and smoothness. I now possessed the voluptuous
curves of the young woman. I could even feel that I was smaller
and lighter than before, now five-foot-six and a mere one hundred
twelve pounds.
I tried to put the bra back on, but gave up after several
minutes. Truly exhausted now, I turned off the light and allowed
myself to fall backwards onto my bed, gathering the covers around
me as I closed my eyes. The last coherent thought I had before
drowsing off was amazement about how large my bed seemed now.
*-*-*
When I woke up the next morning, I saw that there was
someone standing over me. It was Jennifer, dressed in clothes
that looked a bit too big for her, eyeing me impatiently.
"You finally woke up," she said tartly.
At some time or another during the night, I had pushed the
covers down below my new breasts, exposing them painfully
obviously. I blushed furiously and instinctively tried to draw
the covers around me and restore some shred of my modesty.
"Eric," she said in a long-suffering tone, "twenty-four
hours ago I owned that body, and I've had it all my life. Don't
worry, you're not showing me anything I haven't seen before."
I knew she was right, now that I'd had time to think about
it, so I relaxed a bit. I did not, however, push the covers down
further again. "What time is it?"
"About ten in the morning," she said, walking over to the
windows and opening the blinds.
"What do you want?"
"I remembered that you were wearing my cheerleading uniform
when you left last night. I thought you might want some more
casual clothes." She picked up a bag and tossed it to me. Inside
were a fresh bra and panties, a tight blue T-shirt, and a tight
pair of denim jeans. Comfortable and not too revealing, but not
prudish.
I put on the clothes- with a little help from Jennifer in
putting on the bra. "What's it like out there?" I asked curiously
as I got dressed.
Her eyes grew haunted. "Total chaos," she said quietly in
the tone of someone trying to block out something from their
mind. "Murders, suicides, accidents. Looting. And rape. There're
fires everywhere, but no one seems to be able to put them out, so
it just keeps spreading. Lots of people are confused and
depressed. People are stabbing themselves in broad daylight. It's
terrible."
Despite all this, though, the world recovered in a
surprisingly short period of time. Someone extremely practical
suggested lie-detector tests to get rid of all the famous people
impersonators, and the governments of the world had the swaps of
their citizens pretty much mapped out in about seven months. I'm
not saying that there wasn't any fraud, but most of the important
people had been figured out. As it turned out, despite the eight
or ten people claiming to be the President of the United States,
he hadn't really been swapped at all- he was one of the seven
percent of unaffected people. Isn't that funny?
We were sent back to school about two months after the
Great Shift. Isn't that pathetic? You know something's wrong with
the education system when the students receive less time off due
to the most catastrophic disaster in the history of mankind than
they do for summer vacation.
The first day of school after the Great Shift was extremely
weird- not to mention awkward for most of the people involved.
Kids would walk into the room and we'd ask them if they were a
student or the teacher. The principal had gotten swapped into the
body of his thirteen-year-old granddaughter, and that made him a
little less imposing. I was often surprised about who sat where
and not a few times about the irony of the bodies some people had
received. I think I've even got a housecat in one of my classes.
Have you ever seen a cat attempt to wield a pencil? It's a
hysterical experience, but to our credit not one person laughed.
Quite a few classes were turned into study hall because
said classes needed to be "reworked" due to some things that some
swapped people weren't exactly prepared to deal with. Physical
education, for instance, was dropped temporarily because half the
people- myself included- didn't know which locker room would be
most suitable. Most of the material- English, math, and foreign
languages- remained intact. But some of it, like science and
world religions, had to be heavily rebuilt as a result of the
many theories the Great Shift had rebutted and the many new
religions that had sprung up because of it. Sex Ed, Health, and
Physical education had to be virtually dismantled and rebuilt due
to all the problems caused by gender and age swapping.
They eventually worked something out, though, and now they
have separate classes for people who have had their gender
changed. There are about ten people in my boys-turned-girls Sex
Ed class, and we're all close friends. That happens when unique
people get together, I've noticed. Despite all the instances of
people having their genders swapped all around the world, I doubt
that there are more than twenty gender-changed people in the
whole town. One of whom is Tommy, who did a one-for-one swap with
his girlfriend, Meghan. It seems that you had a much greater
chance of switching with someone if you were touching him or her
at the time of the Shift. I'm told Tommy and Meghan were making
out behind the bleachers during the Shift, so that really nailed
down the lid on their coffins.
The old Jennifer and I are friends now, too. She was nice
enough to give her entire wardrobe to me after the swap. I stayed
as close as I could to her the first couple of days because I was
very nervous about going out in public with her body.
She also helped in getting me set up with my current
boyfriend. There was a guy watching me for a couple of days. The
original owner of his body was on the football team, I think. I
didn't really want anything to do with him, because I thought I
would feel like a homosexual.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
Anyway, Jennifer hinted none-too-subtly that he had the
hots for me and that I should try to get hooked up with him.
After I refused initially to even talk to him, she badgered me
mercilessly about it for a few days until I finally gave in. As
it turned out, though, the guy, Alan DeGeris, was a girl-turned-
boy. He was originally Ellen DeGeris, an average girl who was no
knockout, but not a skank either- sort of like I had been. After
we got to know each other, we got along great, and our
relationship even feels sort of natural. We've been dating ever
since, and we went to the prom together earlier this year. There
hasn't been any sex yet- I've insisted that will wait until if
and when we get married- but there have been a few tender
moments.
I don't think I need to pursue that any further.
Oh yeah, that reminds me. Just about everyone who underwent
a gender change has changed his or her name to the more masculine
or feminine version, without being totally absurd. I mean, we
don't have any Edwinas or Jonnis or whatever. I'm now known as
Erica. Tommy couldn't find a colloquial version of his name, so
he decided that we should just call him Meghan, after the body he
now holds.
The sports system ground to a halt, but the school board is
going to re-institute them all next year (in fact, cheerleader
and football tryouts are this very afternoon; both of those teams
do most of their practicing during the summer) on the grounds
that your body is all that counts. If you were the star
quarterback for your team last year and you got shifted into the
body of a five-year old girl, tough. If, on the other hand, you
were a ninety-pound weakling who got shifted into the body of
that star quarterback, welcome aboard. As you would imagine, the
former jocks that are unable to play are whining about it, and
the people who can play are smirking it up. I'm told that a group
a geeks who became two football players and a cheerleader are
systematically seeking out and pounding everyone who ever beat
them up- and that's quite a long list.
What a shame, huh?
Everyone's pretty much adapted. They didn't really have
much of a choice, since the Shift seemed to be irreversible.
So now, though heavily changed, I'm back where I started.
I'm sitting here in World Geography class with only five minutes
to go. A young, buxom blonde is lecturing us about Japan's
economy, China's government, and the Korean War. A short Asian
girl sits to my right, and directly in front of me is a leering
nine-year old boy making perverted jokes about my gender. John
seems fully intent on playing that joke to the hilt.
Courtney Bitz, one of the few unchanged people, still sits
on my left. We've grown closer than ever since the Great Shift.
I unconsciously cross my legs in a very feminine manner.
I've changed a lot, but I'm still the same in some ways. I still
play video games, though not with the enthusiasm I used to. I've
still kept up with most of my other hobbies and I'm still on good
terms with most of my old friends. However, I've also become more
of a teenage girl. I can wear women's clothes, put on makeup, and
flirt with men, though I don't usually do that. It's kind of
embarrassing, and I'm already attached. I can still do it,
though.
Also, I get more of a kick out of doing things Jennifer
used to do, which seems to indicate that our likes and dislikes
are not totally dependant on the individual. I attend parties and
dances, talk on the phone for hours, and get a lot of pleasure
out of shopping, all of which I used to detest before. A couple
of my friends from Sex Ed and I go to the nearest city for some
serious shopping every few Saturdays, and I enjoy every minute of
it.
The bell rings and I'm out the door. I'm supposed to meet
Meghan and Jennifer at the gym. We're going to cheerleader
tryouts.
END
Rowan
- 26.03.2020
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