Changeday: Five Years free porn video

CHANGEDAY: FIVE YEARS by BobH (c) 2009 Changeday was upon us again, four Mondays after the last one, and just like on every other Changeday there was a palpable tension in the air. It was 6.50pm - ten minutes to go, ten minutes before we switched from the alpha phase to the beta. "Daddy, I don't want Bryan wearing my yellow dress!" said Sophie my six year-old daughter. "Daddy bought it for both of us!" protested her twin brother. "It's not just for you!" "He's right, sweetie," I said, looking up from the laptop I was tapping away on, "you know that." "Why can't I have my own girl and boy clothes?" said Sophie, folding her arms across her chest and pouting. "All the other children in my class do." "Probably not all of them," I smiled. "And you know it's because we want you and Bryan to learn how to share. That's what Changeday is about, after all." "You don't know that, for sure, no-one does." This was Adam, our fourteen year-old. Tall and skinny with long, lank hair and acne, he was slouched in an armchair, a leg dangling carelessly over one of the arms, looking as sullen and moody as most teens his age. "No, I don't," I said, sighing as I closed the laptop - it looked like I wouldn't be making those last minute revisions to the script for tonight's show after all, "but everyone is trying to find what meaning we can in it, and that's how your mother and I have decided to treat it." "Your father's right," said Susan, my wife, entering the living room, "and it's almost time now so you should all go to your rooms and get ready." "Yeah, c'mon kids," said Adam, lurching to his feet and taking his siblings' hands. "It's magic time." He led them out of the room, still squabbling over the yellow dress. "Another typical Changeday in the Addison home," chuckled Susan. Smiling, she came over to me, put her arms around my neck and we kissed. Married sixteen years, we were still very much in love, but we were adult enough to make allowances for each other in these extraordinary circumstances, circumstances that after five years we were now all more or less used to. "I love you, you know," I said running a hand through her short blonde hair and smiling down into that pretty face, "and I always have." "I know," she said, smiling wistfully, "I know." We had been childhood sweethearts and I had never looked at another woman, not until the first Changeday. "Time for us to go too, Frank," she said. Taking my hand, she led me upstairs to our bedroom. We stopped outside the door for a final, loving kiss, before she broke our clinch and went inside, closing the door behind her. I stared at it for a few seconds, then sighed and made my way across the landing to the guest room. Once inside, I quickly stripped all my clothes off and stood in front of the full-height mirrored doors of the wardrobe. Only a minute to go. I suppose I looked about average for a man in his mid-thirties. My brown hair was beginning to noticably thin, and I had an undeniable beer-belly where my once-trim waist had been. I was five-ten tall, blue-eyed, and white. All that was about to change. It started, as it always did, with the tingling, a slight prickling of the nerve endings. Then the changes began. Why you don't feel anything worse than that tingling I'll never understand. What was about to happen should *hurt* but, for whatever reason, it doesn't. And after the tingle started, there was the miracle of the transformation. It was a familiar sight to me after five years, something I'd experienced more than sixty times already, but watching my body shift and change never got old. I smiled as my hair grew darker, thicker, longer, as my skin darkened, my beer belly shrank away, breasts sprouted from my chest, and my fairly bland white-guy features morphed into those of a stunningly beautiful black woman. The change took fifteen minutes to complete, but when it was done, when the tingling had stopped I ran my slender fingers over my firm round breasts, my tiny waist, and my shapely buttocks laughing appreciatively. Until the next Changeday, four weeks from now, Francesca was back! Sliding back the door of the wardrobe, I surveyed the outfits it contained. My wife and I shared our male clothing because as Sam she was the same size I was as Frank and our taste in men's clothes was pretty similar. Things were different when it came to female attire. Not only were we not the same size or shape as women - I had bigger breasts, a smaller waist, and was two inches taller than Susan - but we had very different tastes. I went in more for the glamorous look and for designer clothing than she did, hence my needing a separate wardrobe of my own. Choosing a grey Dolce & Gabbana skirt suit, I hung this on the hook on the guest room door, then moved to the dressing table. Seating myself in front of the mirror I turned on the small radio I kept in the room to listen to while doing my face. It was tuned to a news station, of course, and I listened as the newsreader recounted the usual litany of criminal activity you always got on Changeday. This was inevitable. There are obvious advantages to committing a crime and being able to totally change your appearance before police can even get out a description of you. I began the familiar, enjoyable task of applying my make-up. Hard to believe this had once seemed strange to me given how much I loved cosmetics now. I would no more leave the house without make-up on as Francesca than I would without my trousers as Frank. As soon as I was happy with my face, I lit a cigarette - my first in four weeks - and turned my attention to my underwear. Rolling stockings up my legs and attaching them to my garter belt was second nature by now, as was hooking a bra strap behind my back and adjusting my breasts in the cups. After I'd slipped my feet into my Christian Louboutin three inch heels I stood up and examined my reflection from all sides in the full length mirror. I looked fabulous. Francesca was five-foot eight, but with heels on I gained back all Frank's lost height and another inch as well. Smiling, I retrieved my cigarette from the crystal ashtray on the dressing table, took a long drag, then turned my attention to the rest of my clothing. A cream silk blouse, some tasteful jewellery, and I was ready for the skirt suit. When I was fully dressed, I took a final drag on my cigarette before stubbing it out. Time to face the world. Dropping my lighter, cigarettes, credit cards, cheque book, phone, and keys into the handbag I'd selected, I checked to make sure it contained the standard items I kept in all my bags - tampons, cosmetics, cash, etc. - then headed out. On the landing I ran into my daughter Eve, dressed in a halter bra, a skirt so short it was barely there, four inch heels, a lot of junk jewellery, and too much make-up. "You're not leaving the house dressed like that, young lady!" I told her, sternly. "Awww, Muuuuum!!!!" she protested. "Don't you 'Aww, Mum' me. Now go back to your room and change." Protesting about the unfairness of life, she stormed back to her room and slammed the door behind her. I felt a little guilty, but only a little. Adam might be skinny and cursed with acne, but as Eve she was a knockout, with clear skin, long blonde hair, and curves that any woman would envy. She was also still only 14 years old. Downstairs I found the twins watching a Disney cartoon on TV. Brianna was wearing the hotly disputed yellow dress and looking smug, while her brother Simon glowered at her. "I'm going to have trouble with those two," said Sam ruefully, coming up behind me and sliding his arms around my waist. "Better you than me," I said, diengaging from his arms and turning around to face him, just as the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell. "That's my ride," I said, staring into that pale, bearded face. "OK," he said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Go break a leg." "Will you and Anna be watching the show?" I asked as I scooped up the laptop and some mail that needed my attention. "You bet we will," he said, "along with most of Britain. Now go; your driver's waiting. I'll see you in four weeks." The car the TV studio had sent was parked at the kerb outside our house, the driver holding the door open for me. "Evenin', Ms Addison," she said, touching her peaked cap as she did so. "Good evening," I said, turning to take a last look at our family home here in this quiet street in the Chiswick area of west London. Having done so I sighed and climbed into the rear, clicking my seatbelt into place as my driver got behind the wheel and smoothly pulled away. Looking at her, I was puzzled by something. "The time it takes to get here from the studio..." I said, "That means you went through the change while driving here." "That's right," she chuckled, "but male or female I'm pretty much the same size and, as you can see, got no breasts to speak of so I don't need to change clothes. And we've all been through it so many times now that I've got kinda bored of watching it happen in a mirror. I mean there's the tingling and feeling things moving around, but it's not enough to distract me when I'm driving, so why not just ignore it and carry on as usual if you can?" "Why not, indeed?" I said, though I didn't agree. I don't think this was something I'd ever be able to do. Among other things I was one of those who preferred to go through the change in private whenever possible, and so far there had only been one time when it hadn't been. That was two years ago on a transatlantic flight. We'd all known beforehand we'd going through it over the Atlantic of course, and the airline had advised us all to wear loose-fitting, unisex clothing if possible. So like quite a lot of those on the flight, I'd worn a kaftan. Not the sort of thing I'd usually wear as either Frank or Francesca, but it served its purpose. I found myself sitting next to a guy who looked like an All-American jock - square-jawed, heavily muscled, and about six-and-a-half feet tall. He was polite, courteous, and good company. When the change came, midway through our flight to London, I think we were both surprised by the change the other went though. I doubt he expected to see the attractive black woman he was talking to turn into a somewhat pasty-faced and average looking white guy, while I was stunned to see that enormous jock shrink down into an almost anorexically thin young woman who was barely five feet tall. It's still the biggest change in mass I've ever personally witnessed. I also found it a little embarrassing. Maybe I'm a prude, but I've always regarded the change as such an intensely personal thing and I would never undergo it in public by choice. I know others don't have that hang-up, but lots do. I wondered what it would be like if I was American? The change happens simultaneously right across the world, so with America being several hours behind us that means that when we're on summer time it happens 2pm on the east coast and 11am on the west coast. I know some US employers have allowed people to alter their working hours so that they can be at home when it happens, but not everyone has. As for US schools, I gather most have rearranged their hours and moved the Changeday lunch break to coincide with the change so that it doesn't disrupt classes. We're lucky it occurs at 7pm in the UK so most of us are at home anyway and have a choice, but maybe those countries where it occurs during the night have it best. That way you go to sleep in one gender and wake up in the other. Shaking myself out of my reverie, I turned my attention to my mail. It mostly consisted of bills, so I fished my cheque book out of my handbag and filled out several to cover the amounts required. My cheques were in the name of 'F. Addison', as were the address labels on all the envelopes. No one used full names or 'Mr/Mrs/Ms/Miss' on such things any more, only initials. When you had only one legal identity but could be either male or female depending on which phase we were in, this made sense. It was also why most of us kept the same initial when choosing a name in our other gender, some of us going so far as to use the other gender version of our original name, like I did. Not everyone followed this convention, of course. My son Adam chose Eve as his female name, for fairly obvious reasons, so on official documents he was 'A.E.Addison', the initial of the alpha phase name always coming first since for those of us born before the first Changeday that was our name in our birth-gender. "So, do you think we'll learn anything new on your show tonight?" asked my driver. "Perhaps," I said, "but it's more of an overview of what we've learned in the five years since the first Changeday. It would be great if one of my guests had a new revelation for us, but I'm not expecting anything like that." "Do you think it was God who did this to us?" "I'm a Christian so, yes, I do," I replied. "You?" "I know there's those who think it was aliens," she replied, "but I lean towards it being some sort of unexplained natural phenomenon. I mean if it was aliens or God I ask myself 'Why?'. Why do this?" "We can't know God's purpose," I said, "not unless He chooses to reveal it to us, but I think this is a test. We're all of us now seeing what being one of the other half is like, and I think that's going to make better people of us all. You have to agree that most people are a lot less judgemental about others in matters of gender and sexuality now." "Well, yeah, maybe," she said, dubiously, as we arrived at the entrance gates for the studio. Recognizing me, the guard on the gate waved us through and within minutes I was entering the production office for 'The Francesca Addison Show'. Even now, I still got a buzz from seeing that sign on the door. As Frank Addison I wasn't considered telegenic enough to front a show, but the camera loved me as Francesca. The fact that my female voice was considered 'sexy' didn't hurt either, particularly as it had led to some lucrative voiceover work. Yes, I was definitely more marketable as Francesca and my income had made a serious leap as a consequence. "Hi, Francesca," said Dave O'Connor, my producer, "glad you made it OK." Since the show was live and aired at 9pm, Dave would much prefer it if I got to the studio earlier, and on every other day I did, but not on Changeday. No, on Changeday I wanted to be at home, with my family, for the big event. "There are a few messages for you," said Fiona, my personal assistant, handing me a small sheaf of notes. Sweet, pretty, and very feminine, she was dressed in a blouse, short skirt, and heels, and despite having gone through the change today like everyone else on the planet, looked pretty much the same as she had yesterday. Fiona was a rejectionist, someone who rejected the transformations of Changeday and who insisted on continuing in her birth-gender. So in the beta-phase she took estrogen to give her her female curves, had had electrolysis to remove all trace of facial hair, and dressed in her regular female clothing. She now had a penis beneath her skirt of course, and would for the next four weeks, but this was how she chose to deal with things and everyone respected her choice. Unlike me, she was one of those who didn't look too different in her male and female forms so she could pull this off. There were others who chose rejectionism, either for personal or religious reasons, who did so a lot less convincingly. Interestingly, Fiona had a boyfriend in this phase - Larry, who during the alpha phase was her best friend Larissa. I sometimes wondered how Larry felt about having a she-male girlfriend, and whether or not they ever had sex but, really, it was none of my business. I quickly scanned the notes Fiona had handed me but there was nothing there needing my immediate attention so I laid them aside and turned back to Dave. "So," I asked, "are all the guests in the green room?" "Yes," said Dave, consulting his clipboard. "Reverend Collins got here early and sat through the change quite happily in the green room. Professor Singh and Doctor Campbell arrived shortly before you did. They've all been briefed and they're raring to go." I glanced at the office clock. "Eight-thirty," I said, opening my laptop. "They'll be wanting us on the studio floor soon for the sound check. We've only got about fifteen minutes to go over the script so let's get stuck in." Twenty five minutes later, as the sound boys had us check out our mics, and hair and make-up people fussed over me doing the final touch-up, I looked my three guests over appraisingly. They represented religion, science, and medicine. All three were in their forties and old hands at TV by now, in both their male and female forms. Despite being pale and as thin as a rake in her male form, Heather Collins was plump and ruddy- faced. Seeing Aishwarya Singh looking demure and pretty in her brightly- coloured sari, the red dot of a tilaka on her forehead, it was difficult to imagine her as the stern-faced and patrician Hardeep Singh, while tall and handsome Hamish Campbell bore little resemblance to bubbly little Helen Campbell. When the floor manager hustled everyone who wouldn't be on-screen off the studio floor, I sat up straight, checked the laptop on the table to my side was displaying my questions and notes, smoothed my skirt, and composed myself for the cameras. We were about to go on air. "We're live in 10..." announced Dave, "...9...8...7...6... 5...4...3...2...1...and run titles!" I was as tense as ever during the title sequence, but as the title music faded, I looked directly into camera 3 and smiled. "Good evening," I said, "I'm Francesca Addison and my guests tonight are the Reverend Heather Collins, vicar of St. Martin's, Colchester; Aishwarya Singh, Professor of Physics at University College, London; and Doctor Hamish Campbell, a consultant neurologist at Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital. Five years ago, on the first Monday in June, our world changed forever. At 7pm local time, everyone in the world started to transform, turning into members of the opposite sex who in many cases looked quite different from their usual self. Those of us who experienced that first Changeday will never forget it, nor will we forget the panic and confusion that followed. At first, we thought the transformation was permanent, but four weeks later we all reverted to our original genders. We allowed ourselves to believe that was it, that our strange experience was over, then four weeks later we switched genders again. And so it has continued. Every four weeks, at 7pm on Monday evening in the summer - 6pm when we're on winter time - we go through that same amazing transformation. It's a testament to the resilience of the human spirit that we've adapted to our new situation, that it has even come to seem normal, but we're no nearer to understanding it now than we were on day one. Or are we? That's the question I'll be asking my guests tonight as we review what we've learned about this phenomenon over the past five years. I'd like to start if I may with Professor Singh. So, Professor, a phenonmenon like this which strikes everyone on Earth simultaneously and seems in many ways impossible in the world of science as we thought we knew it. Are we any closer to explaining it?" "I wish I could say we were, Francesca, but we still have more questions than we do answers. The most troubling remains the problem of mass. When they undergo their transformation almost everyone gains or loses mass in the process. In some cases quite a lot of mass. Since we know, or at least believed we knew, that mass could neither be created or destroyed, that it could only change its state by becoming energy, this appears on the face of it to be impossible. Our current working hypothesis is that the total mass in the system remains constant, that it just gets redistributed via some mechanism we don't yet understand. Tests on volunteers who undergo large weight gains or losses when they transform are ongoing but as yet have not produced significant results." "Have you considered that you may never find the answers you're looking for?" asked Reverend Collins, "That what happened was not a result of processes that science can understand but of the hand of God? We're witness to an ongoing miracle, and as proofs of His power go I'd say this one was pretty impressive. Instead of asking how this happened we should be asking ourselves why? Why did the Lord do this, and what lessons does He want us to take from it?" "What's your view of this as a medical man, Doctor Campbell?" I asked him. "Well," he said, pausing to clear his throat, "from a medical point of view what's most fascinating is that we seem almost to be switching between two entirely different bodies. Get tattoed in one gender and those tattoos vanish when you switch back, reappear when you switch again. The same thing with piercings and drug addiction. You can be a addicted to a substance in one form and clean in the other." I knew this to be true from my own experience. I'd never smoked as Frank, but Amy had got me hooked on cigarettes as Francesca. "Then there's physical damage," continued Doctor Campbell. "Lose a limb in one form and it's still lost in the other, but smaller scale damage does not carry across. There are even those with neurological damage that has left them blind who regain their sight when they switch. More commonly, you can be scarred in one form, unscarred in the other; have lost a finger or two in one, and have a full set in the other. This is particularly fortunate for transsexuals since the genital surgery they underwent in their original form does not prevent them from acquiring the fully functional organs of their chosen gender when they switch. Speaking of which, my own sister is a transwoman but she's conflicted about the change because as a transwoman she's tall, thin, and quite beautiful, but when the change makes her a ciswoman she's short, dumpy, and rather plain-looking. But then as we all know, how you look in one gender is no indication at all of how you'll look in the other when you switch." "That's true," I said. "In my male form I'm white, so you can imagine how surprised I was that first Changeday when I came out looking like this." "Ah yes, the genetic lottery," he chuckled. "It's almost as if someone reached back into our family gene-pools and pulled out characteristics at random. Do you know where your black ancestry comes from?" he asked. "My father's paternal grandmother was black," I said, "and from the few photos we have of her I'd say I've come out as dark-skinned as she was." "I'd like to ask you all you opinion on how we're handling the change socially," I said. "Should our institutions adapt to accomodate the change? Do they need to? Professor, what are your thoughts on marriage in this regard?" "Well, when I'm Aishwarya I'm a traditional and dutiful Indian wife. I've taught myself to cook so I can prepare our meals and I defer to my husband's authority in family matters. Traditional values are important to us so it was our choice to follow this course and it works very well for us, but I would never seek to impose it on others. We each have to find our own paths, to adapt to the change in ways that make sense to us as individuals." "Do you agree with that, Reverend Collins?" I asked. "There are plenty of people who live entirely different lives in each gender, with different jobs, different sets of friends, and even different partners, but what about those who are married? Is the sanctity of marriage paramount, or has the change altered the equation? Should we be more flexible in this area?" "That's a difficult one," she replied. "As we've discovered, just because you are attracted to your spouse in one gender doesn't mean you still find each other attractive when you switch. Should that mean then that you should enter into relationships with people other than your spouse when you're in your other form? Should you even be able to wed, to be in one marriage as a woman and another as a man? There are people already doing this on an informal basis but so far the government has resisted calls from those who want to legalise such dual marriages and, naturally, the Church hopes they will continue to do so. But the situation remains troubling. Legally, the state only recognises us as a single individual, and we certainly have continuity of memory and sense of self, so it's troubling that when it comes to attraction most of us go from being a heterosexual of one gender to a heterosexual of the other. Yes, we believe it right that this should be so, but on the other hand that's a mental switch and so inevitably has an effect on our sense of who exactly we are. So is there a case to be made for recognising us as two different individuals in certain circumstances, even though we're not?" "You brought up the point that most switch from being a heterosexual of one gender to a heterosexual of the other," I said, "just as most gay people switch from being a gay person of one gender to a gay person of the other but, of course, most isn't all. It's estimated that as many as ten percent of people go from being a straight person of one gender to a gay person of the other and that a similar proportion of gays go from being a gay person of one gender to a straight person of the other. Should those people be expected to remain with their partner when in their beta gender? What do you think, Doctor?" "I'm all for people choosing the course that keeps them happiest and thus healthiest," he replied. "I have to say however, that I'm a little disturbed by the idea of treating our male and female selves as if they're different people. They're not, and treating them as if they are can lead to real problems." "Are you thinking of Mary Bolton?" I asked "It's difficult not to. Who could've known that in her case the change would cause an actual split personality, or that a kindly village librarian and Sunday school teacher could have a male self who was a cold-blooded serial killer? No, she was an extreme case, but allowing people to start thinking of their other selves as a separate personality is the start of a very slippery slope. We're all single individuals, change or no change." "Moving on," I said, "it was soon after we knew that we were going to change every four weeks, as regular as clockwork, that we realised we needed a new way of designating ourselves. It no longer mattered whether or not you were male or female so much as *when* you were. So now we refer to the alpha phase or the beta phase, and every four weeks we switch from one to the other. We also now refer to each other as alphas or betas, with alphas being those who are male during the alpha phase and betas those who are male during the beta phase. The alpha phase also corresponds with our birth-genders for those of us born before the first Changeday. Recently, the male and female designation has been dropped entirely from birth certificates to be replaced by alpha and beta. Is this just bowing to the inevitable or are we making a mistake? Reverend?" "I think it's just facing reality," she said. "To choose the most obvious example, dating services could not operate if we hadn't devised this system. It's interesting, too, how the young have embraced it. Our generation still see ourselves as men and women who acquired an alternate, other-gendered self on that first Changeday, but to anyone under the age of eight or nine and who doesn't remember the world as it used to be, these regular switches in gender seem perfectly normal and the alpha and beta system the most useful way of describing themselves." "I agree," said Doctor Campbell. "And, of course, a lot of other institutions have embraced the system, too. Most sports clubs now have an alpha and a beta team who take it in turns to play in the male and female leagues of their particular game. It's a shame we'll never get to see the best male alpha teams play the best male beta teams due to their being male in different phases, however." "Unless they all get pregnant," I said. "Yes," he chuckled, "there is always that." One thing we quickly discovered was that if you got pregnant you stayed female for the full term of that pregnancy. This could be a bit hard on your partner, who would continue to change gender every four weeks, but it turned out there was also another twist. The average human pregnancy is 280 days or 40 weeks, give or take a few days, and as soon as you give birth you are ready to switch genders the next Changeday. Unfortunately, the length of our gestation period means that in most cases you start your pregnancy in one phase and end it in the other. Basically you phase shift, going from being an alpha to a beta or vice versa. As soon as the problem was identifed, doctors took to leaving it as late as possible then inducing labour immediately before the Changeday prior to the one you would normally come out of labour to. Of course, if you *wanted* to phase-shift then pregnancy was the only method we knew of doing so. Via my earpiece, Dave told me it was time to go over to one of our pre- recorded segments. Turning to camera, I said: "Not every culture has reacted to Changeday in the same way. Every day this week we will be looking at a different culture. The following is a report compiled by Diane O'Connor - the Changeday and Islam." Diane had put this together over the past few weeks and now, as Dave, she was acting as my show's producer. Funny how both of us only got to be on-air talent as women. The report opened with some library shots of the Middle East, Saudi Arabia, and Mecca "Five years ago, on the first Changeday," said Diane in a voiceover, "news blackouts were put into effect in Iran, Saudi Arabia, and Burma/Myanmar. This was cause for concern, particularly in the case of Saudi Arabia. Widespread violence and unrest had been seen in other countries so having these ones 'go dark' made many of us fear the worst. Spy satellite overflights by Western intelligence agencies were reassuring when it came to unrest in Iran and Saudi Arabia - they were actually remarkably quiet, with very few people out on the streets. What the satellites couldn't shed any light on was what was happening behind closed doors. Then, a few days later, Saudi Arabia rejoined the world, announcing that the religious authorities had ruled that any male who had already achieved the age of majority at the time of the gender switch should be accorded permanent male status." The image now switched to an office somewhere in which an Arab-looking man in his mid fifties was sitting behind a desk. The text at the bottom of the screen identified him as Doctor Ibrahim Habbibi, Lecturer in Islamic Studies at Bradford University. "This announcement caused a great deal of debate among scholars such as yourself, Doctor Habbibi," said Diane from out of frame. "Can you tell us why?" "For the Imams, Mullahs, and Ayatollahs, who had become women to declare that women could have status as men created a contradiction because Islam doesn't allow for female Imams or Mullahs. The Koran, the Hadiths, and the Sunna would have to be changed to allow it. Since that's not going to happen, why should the women's authority to speak in these matters be accepted? And the answer is the same one for why the Catholic Church immediately accepted the Pope and her Cardinals, her Archbishops and Bishops and all her priests being female and did not call for their replacement." "And that reason is?" "The Changeday itself," he said. "If you accept it was an act of God, as religious people across the world have done, then you accept Him leaving these people in place and continue to accept their authority. However, there was a problem with this view." "Which is?" "The problem is this. If the Changeday is indeed the will of Allah, what exactly did it mean? How were we meant to interpret it? Did it constitute new revelation, a judgment that women should now occupy those positions, or should the fact of their transformation be taken as a sign they were in fact unworthy and should be removed? Needless to say, those in power favoured the first interpretation, and that's the one they were pushing. Initially, their populaces, who were still dealing with the shock of their own transformations, seemed to accept this. Then four weeks later, the second Changeday happened, we all reverted to how we'd been before the first one, and we assumed that was an end to it. Until the third Changeday, four weeks after that. That's when we got our first inkling this might be the pattern of our lives from now on. Subsequently, the religious authorities in these countries appear to have borrowed an idea from Catholicism, of all places, though they would never acknowledge this." "How so?" "I believe you yourself are a Catholic, Miss O'Connor, and as such you are familiar with Communion and the idea of transubstantiation, correct?" "Yes, of course I am." "Then you will be aware that what appears to be ritual cannibalism - the wine and wafer symbolising the blood and body of Jesus - is held to be real cannibalism thanks to these being transformed into his actual blood and flesh via the miracle of transubstantiation." "I'm not sure I'd characterise it as cannibalism," said Diane, affronted. "Perhaps not," said Doctor Habbibi, "but despite the fact that scientific analysis of the contents of your stomach after Communion would show the wine was still wine and the wafers still wafers, the Church would maintain that, no, these were now Christ's body and blood. They explain aware the discrepancy by claiming that though these still have the 'accidents' or appearance of wafer and wine, they now have the 'substance' of Christ's body and blood. The Imams, Mullahs, and Ayatollahs took this idea and inverted it, declaring that regardless of how you appeared in what we call the beta phase, your true gender remained what it was in the alpha phase. In other words, they don't cease being men in the beta phase, they just *appear* to. They have the 'accidents' of women but retain the 'substance' of men. This gets around the problem of Islam not allowing female Imams or Mullahs, and makes it unnecessary for any potentially divisive reinterpretations of the Koran, the Hadiths, and the Sunna." "Did they arrive at this view because they didn't want to give up their male privelege?" asked Diane. "While I'm sure that played a part in their reasoning, it was a view I think the more hardline parts of the Islamic world had to come to. Consider Sharia law, for example. It holds that the testimony of a woman is worth only half that of a man. It's hard to claim continuity of authority if the amount your testimony is worth goes up and down every four weeks. Still, this decision has led to the odd sight during the beta phase of women in business suits and men in burkhas. I know we're supposed to see the men of these countries as women and the women as men during that time, but I confess to being one of those who finds it difficult. The more liberal Islamic countries did not follow this line and, as in the West, accepted the change for what it was. It's also clear that young Iranians are not happy with the ruling, and the recent rioting we've seen there is at least in part a response to this." The insert then cut to a series of brief 'man-in-the-street' interviews with people from various Islamic countries, terminating in a short interview with the Saudi oil minister, who was dressed in a male business suit tailored to de-emphasise the female curves it covered. After this, they cut back to the studio. "That was the first in a series we'll be running all week on how various religions have adapted to Changeday," I said to camera. "Tomorrow we'll be looking at the Changeday and Mormonism. Now, turning back to my guests, Professor Singh...." And so it went. The show was a good one, I think, but as the studio driver took me home that night, after we'd wrapped, all I could think of was seeing Amy again. "Here we are. Ms Addison," said the driver as we pulled up outside a mews flat in Kensington. "Have a good night!" "You, too," I said as I got out of the car. Then the door beside the garage that led up to the flat, my home for the next four weeks, was opening and there she was: Amy. "Hi, honey," she said, taking me in her arms and kissing me. "It's sooooo good to see you again." We barely managed to get to the top of the stairs before we were tearing each others clothes off, kissing hungrily as we staggered into the bedroom and tumbled onto the bed. Sex between us was as mind-blowing as usual, a total contrast to that between Susan and Frank, which over time had become merely a pleasurable routine rather than the thing of raw, animal passion it had once been. Afterwards, lying there with Amy asleep in my arms, her light brown skin contrasting with the darker shade of my own, I couldn't help but reflect on the circumstances that had brought us to this place. She was black in her alpha state, and a gay man, whereas I was one of that ten percent whose orientation remained unchanged. Male or female, I had only ever been attracted to women. Amy and I had never sought each other out during the alpha phase, nor would we ever do so. Our male selves had other lives, other partners, so it was easier this way. In this were were not unusual, though as always there were different strokes for different folks. Back in our house in Chiswick, Sam and Anna were probably asleep in our bed. When I wasn't there they were a couple. Growing up, Frank Addison, Sue Smith, and Alan Danson had been the best of friends, so much so that Alan was best man at our wedding. He had never married, but what we didn't realise until years later is this was because he was also in love with Sue. So it was both strange and somewhat appropriate that when they were in the beta phase as Sam and Anna both were seriously attracted to the other. And I was glad. Alan was my best friend, and if he could find happiness with Sam as Anna then they had my blessing. Changeday had wrought huge upheavals in the world and most of us were still feeling our way and making it up as we went along. We will make mistakes, of course, but I think most of us are doing OK. So how about you? How do *you* handle Changeday? The End. ******************************** Notes: Changeday is an 'open universe' that anyone may set non-professional stories in. It's designed to be more user-friendly and less rigid than my Genderwave universe, but shares many characteristics with it. This tale is designed to be the bible for the universe and, I hope, covers most of the points someone wanting to set a story in it might need. (The thing about most pregnancies causing a 'phase-shift' came about when I did the math, and was a surprise. It was not part of my original plan but has obvious story potential.) Some additional points: 1) Though everyone has a theory about the cause of Changeday - God, aliens, natural phenomena, etc -the cause remains unknown. It should stay that way. If there ever is an explanation given, that will be my story to tell. 2) The first Changeday occurred on the first Monday in June. No exact date or year should be given. By keeping it non-specific we avoid the problem of the Genderwave universe in which the big event happened on a specific day in 2004, a date which is slipping ever-further into the past. By all means set stories on the first or early Changedays if you want. This particular one is only set five years later because that best served my purposes. 3) Changeday is an event that recurs on a Monday every four weeks around the world *simultaneously*. In the UK it happens at 7pm when we're on Summer Time, 6pm on Winter Time. When setting a story elsewhere please check a time-zone map to determine the equivalent time in that location. 4) Please name your story thus - 'Changeday: (insert your title here)'. Since there isn't a search tag for Changeday stories this should make them easier to search for. And that's it. Like I say, I think I've covered most queries in the text but if you have further questions I'll try to answer them. I think this particular playground has more potential for a wide range of stories than any other I've come up with so far. Have fun!