Family Swap
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The Swap free porn video
The Swap
By Ewa Andersson
You are walking a street just outside the most central
parts of the city. To the left there is a large open space;
a park mainly consisting of a smooth and very green lawn,
practically empty just now. In a very, very short while you
are going to be nearly halfway down the part of the street,
which is parallel to the park.
You are sixteen years old and a girl. You are 5'4",with
blue eyes and long blond slightly curly, hair that reflects
beautifully in the sunlight. You are neither thin nor fat,
just fairly normal with a clearly visible waist and the
usual female shape. Most people, both young and old, men
and women, would not hesitate to use adjectives like
pretty, beautiful, or attractive if they were to describe
you. The ones knowing you better would also add words like
diligent, ambitious, intelligent, nice and kind, but all
this does not matter at all to the rest of the story, for
diagonally behind you, inside a tall building with a clear
view over the park and the stretch of street where you just
now are walking is a, for the moment, very severely
psychologically disturbed man watching you through the
telescopic sight of his precision firearm. His hand does
not tremble, and slowly the trigger is pulled closer to
himself and in nearly the same split second the bullet
penetrates, after having passed the green park, your head
exactly at the point where "rear", "upper" and "side" have
their joint locations, and only a fraction of a second
later leaves the scull at the right temple, just to stop
dead and totally deformed against the kerb. Some forensics
will, in a couple of hours' time, find the bullet there.
While on its course through your head, the bullet tears off
life's important functions in your brain, and a strong
shock wave travels through the tissue and makes you in
reality, dead. The brain stops processing impressions from
your senses when the bullet is a fourth of its deadly
sinister path through your head.
You don't even notice that you fall on the street and get a
nasty cut on your right lower arm. The last thing your
brain registers is a bit of a green grassy park, a grey,
somewhat uneven pavement in front of you and a dark yellow
parked Ford and a midnight blue Volvo which has just
passed, together with the waning sound from that car mixed
with the general noise from the town, and very, very
faintly in the background, from one of the few trees in the
park, a bird singing.
***
You are on the way to your work. You are pretty late. But
your work is of a kind that you can, to a certain degree,
self decide your working hours. You have a very good
education. Apart from an M. A., you have also read a lot of
other courses at different universities. Due to a lot of
travelling around the world you have collected an enormous
amount of knowledge and experience about many areas that
are related to mankind and its conditions. It is due to the
amount of depth and width in your knowledge that you can
have such free work hours as you have.
In the back of your mind you catch the sound of a siren but
you are walking very far in on the sidewalk, close to the
yellow stone wall of a building, and don't care much about
the sound which is coming closer. Instead your mind is
focussed on what you are going to deal with immediately
after you arrive at work, but while these thoughts are
being processed in your brain, a fire engine, which is the
vehicle the siren sound is coming from, collides with a
small lorry at the intersection just behind you. The lorry
is thrown by the impact across the sidewalk where it
squeezes and crushes the whole lower part of your body
against the yellow stonewall of the house you are passing.
You do not notice much, except for a very strong pain
during the tiny portion of time from when the small lorry
first touches you until you faint. Your body,for defence
reasons, effectively turns off its receiving system for
pain signals.
Someone with a cellular phone sees the girl falling on the
street, runs up to her, and sees that she looks dead. They
call an ambulance that quickly arrives and takes the girl
to one of the hospitals in town.
The driver of the fire engine isn't hurt, and after looking
over the accident scene, calls for suitable vehicles
himself, one of which brings the crushed man to the same
hospital as the girl.
You wake up in a hospital bed. You have no notion of what
you are doing there. You ask for the time and what date it
is, you are curious to find out why you are there, yet you
do not dare ask, afraid of what the answer might be. While
you are waking from your anaesthesia and its coherent
sleep, you become more and more aware of the pains in your
head. They are not strong, more like a heavy stinging. When
you regain enough strength that you can move your arms, you
feel you have a large bandage around your head. You are
urged by the nurse in charge to leave that alone, and she
asks you if you need a painkiller. The pain isn't great so
you answer no.
While your thoughts are becoming clearer as the anaesthesia
leaves your blood stream you become aware of another heavy
stinging from your right arm on which there is gauze and
some large bandages, but there is also a totally unfamiliar
pain in your stomach. You have your period.
The nurse says that you have woken up enough, and that
everything looks good, you can now be moved from the ICU to
an ordinary ward. Two assistant nurses kick the catches
that prevents the bed from moving when it is parked so the
bed is freed. Then they grab hold of the bed ends and pull
you, with your head first, out into the corridor, into an
elevator, out into another corridor and finally through a
door into a small yellow tinted room where you are left
alone for a little while with only your alarm button to
press, should there be any need.
After a while, perhaps a rather long time, you are still
very tired and drowsy after the surgery, and your
perception of time might not be totally valid, a couple
enters your room. They are about your age. They stop,
hesitate a short moment, and then the woman, with joy in
her voice calls a girl's name: Karen!
You actually think they are they are lost, or that they are
from the mental ward, or that they mean somebody else in
the room so you lift your aching head to see to whom she is
talking, but their eyes are still directed towards you and
you definitely can not detect a fourth person in the room.
Maybe it is wrong of the doctor in charge to let these
people in, but they are very persistent and demand to see
their daughter. What they get to see is the body of their
daughter, mainly unharmed, apart from the bandages on the
head and the right arm, lying in a hospital bed. For them,
the one lying in the bed really is their daughter, their
own flesh and blood. Why doesn't she recognise them
immediately, they think for a brief moment, before the
words of the doctor slowly begin to affect their
consciousnesses. Reality can really outdo the abstract.
They begin to understand what has really happened, and
leave filled with great sorrow. The hospital room and you
are now alone again.
Time passes, you still don't know how much, someone enters
the room. You recognise her as your wife. Her reactions are
completely the opposite of the couple. She stands
completely at a loss, seeming to believe that she has been
directed to the wrong room, by some jerk at the hospital
who can not ever discern a teen-aged girl from a middle-
aged man, and that this jerk, for the benefit and security
of the public, immediately should be replaced.
You now have the initiative and say your wife's name. She
has trouble believing, but by the sound of your voice she
arrives at the conclusion that here is somebody who knows
her, who is talking to her, so she carefully moves closer
to the bed where you are lying. You repeat her name again
in the same way and she approaches you further. In her
brain, there is an ongoing process in which she is trying
to grasp another doctor's words. What he told her was
really simple and obvious, but in this very moment these
words are transformed into a very concrete reality.
In the bed she sees the body of a sixteen-year-old, young
and probably very beautiful, girl. The amount of beauty is
hard to decide due to the bandages and the sickly yellow-
greenish facial colour, matching the covering blanket. This
young, girly bed creature talks to her in the same manner
her husband used to do, but with a totally different voice.
It is the voice of young girl, somewhat hoarse after having
had a rather large tube down the throat during the surgery.
The presence of your wife makes you stronger. You get more
and more aware of your body. The anaesthesia is leaving
your body and your body feels more and more alien.
Your wife leaves the room after a short conversation to go
home and brood. Who is she really married to? With you in
the bed? That seems totally ridiculous! A thirty-five year
old woman married to a sixteen-year-old girl. Still, It is
in that body that all your mutual experiences and memories
are. It is in that body that all your knowledge about your
children and friends are. It is from that body that
greetings to your relatives can come as before. It is just
the outer shape that has changed, radically. The mouth of
this body will still deliver the same thoughts, values and
opinions as earlier held by the man she used to live with.
There is something about that creature which is familiar,
luring and attractive, but not in a physical way.
You recover quickly after the surgery, which really was not
extensive. All that was done was that the skull of the
newly shot sixteen year old girl was opened and the brain
from the newly crushed man's body was installed instead, in
the same way a well functioning car could be made out of a
totally wrecked one and a car where the motor has broken
down. To join the nerve fibres to the spine was easy once
medical science found out how to do it.
You find your body very unfamiliar. The two persons of your
age that entered your sickroom on the first day, actually
visit you again. They still feel very strongly for you. A
big part of their daughter is still alive, and as you get
rid of more and more bandages, and regain more and more of
a healthy skin tone your appearance becomes exactly like
their daughter's, before that fateful day when she, for the
last time, experienced the city. They also meet your wife
and talk the situation through. She is still interested in
you because of your past together, while the couple really
wants to see you grow up, and to follow your development,
but still they have great difficulty understanding that you
can not recognise them, or know anything about their past,
their other children, their relatives, or about their
daughter's room or their house.
It is time for you to leave the hospital. The young body
has healed very quickly. The couple is there with some
clothes for you. Panties, bra, a bright red short skirt, a
white blouse with some lace and embroidery which is
buttoned the wrong way from what you are used to. You are
forced to get help from the woman to get the bra on
properly. That is also a new experience, as are the blue
shoes with a one-inch heel and straps.
You realise that, at your home, you do not have a single
item of clothing that fits you, so you decide to go with
the couple to their home to get suitable things out of the
girl's closet.
You hunch over as you walk through the corridors of the
hospital. Not because of the pains, but because you are
feeling very awkward, and even ashamed, of the clothes you
are wearing, even though they fit very well. The swinging
of the skirt around your legs feels totally weird, but when
you realise that people either don't notice you at all, or
that the ones doing so, seem to appreciate what they are
seeing, you straighten up.
At the doorway to the hospital there is a guy just under
twenty who turns his head and whistles. You perceive it in
the back of your mind in the same way that you did with the
sound of the fire engine. You believe that it doesn't have
anything to do with you, but somehow it bothers you. At the
couple's place, you pack up more panties, bras, pantyhose,
blouses, skirts, dresses, a swim suit, a couple of jeans,
slacks, shoes, some of which are high-heeled, some heavier
outer garments for colder weather, and also what was found
in a bottom of a drawer, a matching set of panties, bra and
suspender belt in Burgundy coloured delicate lace, which
she had bought in an attack of liberation from her mother
and home, but didn't have the courage to use except for
try-on sessions in her own room.
When leaving that house the woman raises a finger in the
air making you understand that there is one thing more, and
you wait. She goes away but shortly returns with a package
of maxi pads, which she hands you with a knowing and
sympathetic small smile.
You agree to come back to get more things should the need
arise. They want to assist and help you as much as they
can. They are very helpful and understanding, and also show
great thankfulness that at least, the body of their own
daughter, can exist, even if her good heart and
psychological identity no longer live.
You take the things in a taxi and get home to your own
apartment. Your wife does not know how to behave. Does she
hug you, kiss you welcome, what is she to do?
For a while you live with her, but realise that it can not
go on. Your body's hormones make themselves more and more
known. You are no longer as upset, and not so disgusted,
when you notice that young boys stare persistently at you.
Finally you move to your own small apartment.You still have
some contact with your wife. You have many mutual
experiences, and your conversations are very refreshing for
both of you. You also have contact with the couple, but
they occur more and more sporadically.
Pretty soon you can go back to work. Your subordinates find
it, at first, very hard to submit to your decisions. What
they see is a young girl, hardly dry behind her ears. They
have a hard time taking you seriously, but as time passes
your decisions are accepted because they are well grounded,
really thought through, and seem to come out of many years'
experience, which they are.
One night you decide to wear the most feminine items of
clothing you have in your closet. You have started getting
used to the feeling of, the otherwise foreign, soft slinky
materials. You have practised a little and can now make
your hair look not too bad, and you can put on discrete
make-up and to button a blouse is really child's play.
You go to a restaurant with a pub where you know there are
usually a lot of younger people. You have become a few
years older now, and entering the bar is not a problem. You
have some drinks, and as your weight is much lower than
before, the effect of the drinks becomes much more powerful
than you had anticipated.
After a while a young man steps up to you and starts
talking. The evening in the bar continues and finally you
follow him home. You are rather tipsy at the time, but you
really enjoy it, even though you are extremely frightened
of your own reactions in this new situation. You are still
a virgin, but the thing you are most afraid of is how you
think it feels to be kissed. But when held in his arms you
totally surrender and you feel like you have melted.
Some years later you marry a man, but not this one. You
have some children, and thanks to the new body you turned
eighty-seven, counted by the girl's age. Sadly you are
rather senile the last sixteen years.
Ewa Andersson
Jane
- 18.08.2020
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