Tales of The Great Shift Imprisoned
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Tales Of The Great Shift: Picking Up The Pieces free porn video
Tales of the Great Shift: Picking up the Pieces
By Caleb Jones
My doctor suggested I write down what happened to me.
Putting my troubles into perspective, he called it. Some
shrink technique to put you in touch with yourself, I
think. I don't mind, though. He's very good at his job. So
I do as he suggests. Where do I begin? I guess I should
start with an introduction.
My name is Bob Jacobson.
Or at least it was until the Great Switch. People call me
Barbara now. Or Barb.
I don't care. If it sounds enough like 'Bob' to my ears,
I'll answer to it.
We all know what happened. If you were very lucky and it
didn't happen to you, then it happened to many of the
people you know and love. Over 90% of the population of the
planet suddenly and permanently wound up occupying the
bodies of other people, usually strangers, and often
including gender and racial exchanges. They eventually
called it the Great Switch, but for most people, it was
hardly something 'Great'. I'm one of those people. I just
call it the Switch.
Some victims of the Switch think the poor souls who died
when the shift put them in suddenly deadly circumstances
were the lucky ones. Usually, they are people whose
fortunes made a turn for the worse, like the child star who
wound up in the body of quadriplegic Christopher Reeves. Or
a priest turned drunken whore. Then there were all the many
doctors and nurses who changed bodies with their sick,
sometimes dying patients.
Then there were the many who suffered more than just a
change in body. Like children who became their parents. Or
people in their youthful prime who were suddenly ready to
collect old age pensions. And even if you didn't lose your
youth, there were the many people who suddenly had to deal
with possessing bodies of a different gender. Many had
trouble handling that life-altering change.
I was one of those uprooted souls who changed genders
thanks to the Switch. I was quite comfortable living the
life of a thirty seven year old white male, five foot
eleven inches tall, with blond hair and green eyes. I was
reasonably good looking, women found me attractive enough
to date, if not to marry, and I enjoyed my life on the road
as a successful and popular trucker.
I remember the details of the day of the Switch as if it
happened today. Out of the blue, as I was driving my big
rig through a small California town, I improbably found
myself in the "Twilight Zone"! One moment I was falling
asleep at the wheel and the next, I was waking up on a
harsh sidewalk, inhabiting the body of a petite Asian woman
a foot shorter than I was used to being, and a decade
younger. At the time though, I had no idea of what had
happened to me or to most of the others around me.
I was lying on a rough sidewalk when my mind began to
function once more. I struggled to halt a sudden, strangely
powerful urge to cry. It was a foreign feeling for a burly
male trucker to experience. But the tears started anyway
when I saw the wreckage of the truck I had been driving
smashed into a tree. I could still make out my company logo
and hand-painted name on the crushed side door of the
truck. I wasn't aware of possessing a new body at that
moment. I was far too grateful to be alive!
I felt uninjured, but rather strange at the same time. I
assumed the clothing I felt constricted about my legs must
have been the result of damage from the car accident. I did
have trouble standing up, but I slowly, cautiously, made my
way slowly over to the badly crushed driver's side door.
There were no signs of fire so I looked inside to see if
any of my personal effects survived the crash.
I assumed I had somehow been miraculously thrown clear
during the crash until I looked through what was left of
the driver's side window.
I screamed, and the high-pitched sound of a horrified woman
came out of my throat!
What I saw made me ignore even the strange sound that had
come forth from my throat. You probably cannot even begin
to imagine my horror as I looked in through that window and
saw my own bloodied and lifeless body crumpled inside of
the totaled driver's compartment!
I stopped vomiting after a few minutes and the crying came
to the forefront of my emotions once again. I was unable to
stop the tears for several minutes. I was nearly unable to
think! I was dead. DEAD! But somehow, I was still alive! I
couldn't cope with two impossible, yet concurrent
realities.
Finally, I began to run out of tears and began to function
again. From the emotional turmoil I still felt, I hadn't
died. Despite the evidence from my eyes, I was no ghost! My
body was clearly dead, but I was still alive! I wiped away
the last, salty tears from my eyes. My hand was smeared
with makeup. Women's make-up!
I also realized it wasn't my hand I was waving in front of
my eyes. Unless I had taken to painting my fingernails with
red polish without realizing it. And the fingers were
thinner than mine. My hand was clearly the hand of a woman.
Finally aware I had changed, I surveyed my body to see what
the hell I now was if my body was dead and I wasn't inside
of it!
I'll spare you the details of how I discovered the intimate
intricacies of my new body and gender. Similar reports
appeared throughout the media, and much of the world went
through much the same experience that I did. They even made
movies about it with actors and actresses that actually had
exchanged bodies with each other! If you want the prurient
details, rent a DVD of one of those films or go read one of
the many books published on the great Switch. There are
literally hundreds, which present the stories of what
happened to people in the hours after the Switch occurred.
The first and best of the bunch was written by an author
named Morpheus. It was on top of the New York Times
Bestseller's list for ten weeks and is now the standard by
which other authors hope to aspire to.
Suffice it to say that, between the horror of seeing my own
dead and bloody body, and the further shock of realizing I
was no longer the man I had been, or even a man at all any
more, my mind shut down and I became little more than a
human robot, walking randomly with no destination in mind.
The details of the next few days are rather hazy, but I'll
fill in what I can...
I must have wandered the streets for days. I vaguely recall
eventually being led by two strangers off the unsafe
streets. More strangers cared for me as I slept on the
floor of a makeshift shelter with other victims of the
Switch. I only began to come to terms with my new body
after being placed in the women's sleeping quarters at the
shelter.
At first, being surrounded by women reminded my shattered
mind far too much of what had happened to me after my
'death'. Seeing other women who like myself had been men
until the Switch, listening to those men turned female
begin to cope, and being helped by volunteer women who were
born female to take care of my unfamiliar new body finally
helped me shake off my shock. I slowly began to rejoin the
human race.
As I became more aware of my surroundings once more, I knew
I needed help to adjust. You don't turn into a member of
the opposite sex overnight without some major trauma.
Especially when you can't forget the horrible sight of your
dead and bloody body on top of the pile of problems the
switch had given me! It took several sessions with a
volunteer psychologist to enable me to fight off the
depression and confusion I felt from losing my identity,
but I started to begin the process of acceptance of my
fate.
I was fortunate that the psychiatrist helping me come to my
senses was a woman born. On top of everything that had
happened to me, my body decided during a session that it
was a good time to begin menstruation. Dr. Meadows helped
me to identify the foreign symptoms as something natural to
my new body, and taught me how to take care of the
biological process I would have to undergo every month for
several more decades. I think he gloated just a little,
knowing I was going through something he would not have to
suffer anymore. He was a bit too pleased when he offered to
give me the feminine hygiene products he kept in his office
bathroom. I wished for a second great switch that might
free me from my feminine prison of flesh, but to no avail.
I am grateful for Doctor Meadow's help though. Despite what
happened to me after the Switch, I wanted to continue
living, and he helped me to get past the depression I felt
after regaining my mind and sanity. Dr. Meadows is a good
woman turned man, and a caring doctor. I have been a
regular patient of his ever since.
Even while educating me on necessary feminine hygiene
techniques, Dr. Meadows kept trying to get me to see the
positives of becoming a woman. I never said he was perfect!
I was not very receptive to that line of therapeutic
treatment since my body was bleeding by that time, and I
had felt strong cramping in my new gut for too long before
admitting it to him. The medication he gave me helped, but
I was still in a bad frame of mind. I hardly found his
arguments reasonable.
"Your new age of twenty five years might be adequate
compensation for the loss of your manhood and lifestyle."
the doctor suggested. Gaining twelve more potential years
of life, as a woman wasn't as thrilling to me as the
concept seemed to him. "Women have been having periods
since the first woman stood upright at the dawn of time.
It's a simple fact of life, so learn to live with it like
the rest of us did when we matured from girls into women."
Easy for him to say. He had no more periods to deal with. I
did! I was a man and it's just not natural for a man to
bleed like that!
I was angry when he said, "I almost wish I'd been one of
the ones who swapped bodies with someone more than a decade
younger instead of exchanging bodies with my husband who's
about the same age as me."
I could barely keep from thrashing him! Not that I could
have really have hurt him anyway. He towered over me by
almost a half foot and probably could have squeezed the
life out of my thin female body if he had wanted to...
He said, "Being a woman is a privilege. You've been blessed
with the opportunity to learn new perspectives. Try and
enjoy it!"
I said, "Easy for you to say now that you are a tall,
strong man."
Which was just one of the other problems I had with my new
body. Besides the more obvious gender change, of course,
there was the racial change from Caucasian to Asian, which
actually seemed negligible to me in comparison to the sex
change. I only really perceived a racial change when I
looked in the mirror.
What I noticed more than the color of my skin was my new
height, or rather my lack of height! I felt like a child
whenever I was around any other grown up person. No body
should stop growing at under five feet tall. It just isn't
natural. At least it wasn't natural for me! But it was
indeed natural for my new body. I quickly learned to look
up at almost every adult I talked to. I didn't like doing
so but you do what you have to if you want to be "normal".
As if I could ever really be normal while I looked like a
woman, I thought to myself more than once during those
early sessions with Doctor Meadows.
I had to make many adjustments other after losing my former
body, some big, some small. I had to give up my former job
as a truck driver. My small, female frame just didn't have
what it takes to do the job. My feet didn't even reach the
brakes or the accelerator any more. I also found it next to
impossible to shift gears with the weak arms I was forced
to use after the Switch. I reluctantly traded in the
replacement truck I got from the insurance company for a
down payment on a two bedroom condominium. If I wasn't
going to be on the road anymore, I had nowhere to go, and I
couldn't stay in the shelter forever, even if it felt more
like a home to me in the lonely weeks after the Switch.
I had also lost a lot of friends as I found out while
trying to get back into the trucking business before giving
it up as an impossibility due to my height challenged
physique. By simply possessing a reasonably attractive
woman's body, I had to deal with the annoyance of my fellow
truckers who remained unswitched, many of whom kept hitting
on me even after learning who I used to be. It didn't
matter to them that I had been a man as long as I now had
the body parts they preferred to get close to. The problem
was that I was unable to accept those body parts as my own
despite their permanent nature. And I certainly did not
prefer to come in contact with their ugly male body parts!
I might appear to be a woman to them but inside my head I
was still a man! The only male body I wanted was my own,
and that body was dead.
Even after nearly a year of weekly sessions with Doctor
Meadows, I refuse to wear dresses or skirts. The woman
whose body I occupied never came forth to claim it or her
belongings, and it was finally assumed she had swapped into
my former body and died in the car crash in my place. A
judge eventually granted me custody of my own belongings as
well as hers since she had no heirs. I gave all her
clothing away to charity except for a few winter jackets
and a dozen shirts and jeans that would fit my shrunken
appearance. I replaced even those few garments as soon as
possible since the belonged to the dead woman I had become
and it felt weird wearing her clothes.
The only concession to femininity that I found myself
willing to make is to wear panties and sports bras. I wore
the former since none of my own male underwear fit anymore,
and there wasn't too much to adjust to in the old fashioned
underwear I bought to cover up as much down there as
possible. Hanes Her Way panties actually resemble their
male counterparts slightly. Which was fine with me. The
less strange my new anatomy seemed to me, the better, as
far as I was concerned. I was reminded of what I had lost
every single time I had to sit down to go to the bathroom
as it was.
I had inherited no feminine desires to wear any of the g-
string type underwear younger women seemed so fond of
before the Great Switch. Of course, I could hardly ignore
my feminine chest when it came to the matter of underwear.
It wasn't really huge, though it often seemed so to me.
Everything seemed a lot bigger once I became a foot shorter
after the Switch.
I found C cup bras among the possessions of the former
occupant of my body which fit me, but I felt too
uncomfortable to wear them. Not only did they belong to a
dead woman, but the constriction around my upper body was a
reminder of what I had become. I found sports bras
performed the same job of containing the movement of my
chest and they were far more comfortable to wear than a
regular bra. Although finding one to fit my otherwise small
chest usually meant shopping in the young women's or teen
girls department in the mall.
For my new size and height of just under five feet tall, my
inherited breasts were rather noticeable, although I had
never considered C cup breasts as too big until I got a
pair of my own. At least they were real and not
artificially enlarged with silicone. A fellow trucker of
mine who had been at a strip joint when the switch happened
found himself inside the body of one of the strippers he
had been watching.
Dr. Meadows thought I might benefit from talking to old
friends with the same gender adjustment problems I had, but
Robert, my trucker friend, enjoyed his new feminine
physique a bit too much. He kept comparing his chest to
mine and boasting about his superior boobs and great legs.
One night after dinner, he tried to get me to compare
ourselves in the nude. I had to ask him to leave after he
tried to take off my bra!
He might have been a woman I would have been attracted to
in my old life, but I had no desire to see another woman
naked when I could barely stand to see myself that way.
That was when I realized that women no longer interested me
as a man. But then, I was no longer a man. That was my
problem! I had been turned into a woman who had no interest
in either gender anymore.
Dr. Meadows says I am repressing my sexuality when I broach
the subject of sex.
I suppose he is right, but the problem is more complicated.
Sexually, I am still a man, but my body doesn't fit that
definition anymore. I no longer like looking at women since
they remind me of what I have become, and needless to say,
I have developed no interest in dating men. My body may
occasionally express feminine signs of interest in either a
handsome young man or a beautiful girl, but my mind refuses
to have any interest in following through with either
gender.
After I lost my truck driving job, I found work with a temp
agency as a temporary assistant to businesses that needed
an extra pair of hands after the Switch. I primarily worked
with medical offices flooded with patients needing exams to
learn about their new bodies. There was a need for people
to assist nurses with filling out and filing forms for the
rush of new patients.
I even helped Doctor Meadows for a while as an assistant in
his office as his patient base tripled soon after he
returned to her office as a man. He ended his emergency
volunteer work to help victims like myself after things
settled down a few weeks after that horrible day. I don't
know what I would have done if he hadn't found me in that
shelter and talked some sense into me. When he had to hire
more experienced office help, he referred me back to the
temp offices with a good recommendation. I got work
consistently afterwards.
I was quite lucky to have been treated by Dr. Meadows. He
really cares about his patients. They aren't just a way to
make money. He introduced me to his visiting sister a week
ago. She also swapped bodies with a man just as her sister
Doctor Meadows had done. His sister Francesca now goes by
the name Frank. She's a stockbroker, and well off
financially. Frank asked me out, and for some reason I
don't understand, I accepted. I guess she reminded me of
her brother. She liked to talk, and I was rather lonely.
Of course the two sisters turned brothers look nothing
alike now that they are no longer genetically related.
Frank is rather handsome and as young as I am physically.
He towers over me at six feet tall, but for the first time,
I don't seem to mind the height difference. I surprised
myself by stopping off at a shop in the mall and buying a
skirt to go with a shirt I planned to wear. I could hardly
wear a pair of jeans to a fancy restaurant. I even bought a
real bra for the occasion. But I bought nothing else.
I haven't tried that new bra yet though. I still wear the
usual sports bra and flat heeled shoes I've worn to work
each day since I lost my job as a trucker. One small step
at a time, I guess, and I wasn't ready for a high-heeled
step just yet. I doubt I ever will be. Dr. Meadows believes
I am finally ready to move into the next phase of my life
as a woman, though.
He could be right. After my fourth date with Frank, he
leaned down and kissed me. I hate to say it but I enjoyed
it. I hadn't been kissed for a long time and somehow it
felt right to be kissed by Frank. He told me he could kiss
me better if I would wear higher heels on my shoes. I know
height won't really make that kind of difference, but I
nonetheless picked up a pair of two inch heels on my way to
work the next day. I got used to them over the next two
days until we went out again.
The kisses were indeed better that night!
Doctor Meadows has ended our sessions. He says I have had a
breakthrough, and am capable of getting on with my new life
now. After well over a year, I actually miss our weekly
sessions. But I realize it means I am getting better. I
know now that I am going to be a woman for the rest of my
life and I have come to accept that fate as something other
than a burden or a cruel twist of fate. I can finally look
forward to a new day again. Except when it is 'that time of
the month', of course. But the doctor said that feeling was
not uncommon among women. It helps that Frank understands
me so well, having been a woman for so many years, himself!
Thanks to Doctor Meadows, I am capable once more of
accepting who I am, and who I have become. I don't know how
far I can take this male-female relationship thing I have
going with Frank, but I intend to see it through! I am
beginning to suspect that the next phase of my life might
not be too bad after all with Frankie around!
The end, and the beginning...
Copyrighted to the Caleb Jones
2003AD all rights reserved.
(The Shift concept is borrowed with permission courtesy of
Morpheus' kind heart and brilliant mind.)
Libbie
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