The Katy Nightmare - Part 4 free porn video

My dreams were like a montage of my life. A stroll down memory lane through all of the key events that had brought me to where I was today. I'd relived my very first memories, kicking a huge plastic football around in the back garden with my dad. Standing in my uniform for my first day of school while my mother snapped photos of me. The annual family holidays to exotic European destinations, and my playing on the beach with other children. Then there were my teenage years. My first kiss as a 15-year-old. My first taste of alcohol, and my first hangover. The wild celebrations when I'd received the A-level results that I needed, and spending the first week of University getting drunk every night. They were all happy memories, and I should have been able to have many more. At 21 years old and now an adult, having lived through my formative years, it was surely not going to be long until I found a girl, got married, and maybe even considered having children. I'd be graduating from University and moving out, starting a career, and getting on with my life. Or at least, I should have been able to look forward to doing all of that. For they were all memories of the life I had lived so far as Tony Bradley. Even in my sleep, my subconscious knew that I was in a predicament, and the final memory that it played over was a reminder of just how bad things could become. "Tony?" That fateful Friday night. The day that all of this had started. A young girl I'd never seen before in my life at my front door, interrupting my preparations for a night with my friends. "Cool, I'm Katy. You went to Lansley Secondary School, didn't you?" Why hadn't I just turned and closed the door on her? Or properly interrogated her on why she was there? Maybe it would have gotten me out of this nightmare before it had begun, this seeming conspiracy to take away my identity. "So you remember the uniform, then?" Even in my sleep, just reliving my first encounter with Katy was unnerving. Her questions about the school uniform, the fact she knew my name, how I'd been unable to not accept the bags she gave me, and what it had all been a precursor to. "Did you like it?" I couldn't fathom how I hadn't fought all of this more. Why had I let my parents refer to me as a school kid, and a female one at that? Why had I barely protested any of this until it was possibly too late? Was my lack of resolve to Katy and to them all a part of this? "Oh-kayyyy, this bag's got my skirts in." This whole situation felt like it should have been a bad dream, something that I'd wake up from and realise that life was continuing as normal. My mind instinctively started to scream at me to do so, to return to consciousness and escape the unwanted flashback playing in my head. Eventually, the flashback started to fade, and I felt myself beginning to come around. Just a few moments later, every bit of my being would have preferred to have stayed in the comparative bliss of sleep. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- As my senses came to me, I could tell through closed eyes that the room wasn't entirely dark, a tell-tale sign that most of the night had passed and that the late-year Sun had started to come up to begin the morning. That probably would have made it around 7AM, if not a little later, meaning that I'd slept right through the night despite having fallen asleep much earlier than I was used to. I stirred a little, still groggy and half-asleep, and let out a low, barely audible gurgle of discomfort under my breath, instinctively rolling over from my back and onto the right side of my body. "Urgggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh." It was then that my consciousness fully returned, and that I could tell that something was very, very different from how it had been the night before. I knew that I'd fallen asleep above the covers, lying on my back unable to move and fully clothed. Now though, that wasn't the case. Without thinking about it I'd just instinctively rolled my body over to my preferred sleeping position on my side, and I could feel that my current position was below, not above, the bed covers. The bed covers felt strange on me. It took a split second to register, but the material between them and my legs did not feel like my jeans. It felt like a softer material, perhaps cotton. As I'd shifted over to my side I'd felt a similar material covering the entire length of my arms, whereas I'd fallen asleep in a short-sleeved t-shirt. I was dressed differently now. More alarming, though, was how my body now felt alien and strange. My cheek didn't feel right on the pillow, as if the bones weren't where they usually were. My chest felt heavy and bloated compared to normal. My feet felt several sizes too small. As I realised all of these abnormalities, my eyes flew wide open. I found myself face to face with the radiator next to the bed, obstructed only by strands of brown hair in my face. Given my typically short hair, that was not normal for me, yet it wasn't the major concern at the time. 'What? Oh, shit', I thought to myself. Was I? Had I? No, this was impossible. I didn't dare move further in fear of discovering what I was dreading was true, instead just staring at the vertical stripes of the radiator and feeling how odd the placement of the muscles and parts of my body felt compared to when I'd fallen asleep. It was clear, more than clear, that I no longer had the body that I'd had nine or so hours ago. It was then that I started to notice the most worrying change of all. My crotch. It felt bare to this body, and I couldn't sense the presence of the usual equipment in my groin area at all. With my eyes still wide open and fixed on the bare radiator in front of me, I gulped and moved for the first time since I had awoken, lowering my hand down my body to around the top of the legs. I put my hand on my left thigh. I seemed to be wearing pyjama bottoms, or at least that's what they felt like. I knew the feeling now, as I'd worn them as a child. The pressure of my hand confirmed the lack of hair on the leg, and the hand itself felt dainty and small, and worst of all, feminine. 'Don't tell me this actually happened', I thought to myself panickedly. I slowly forced my hand inward toward the joint of my legs, hoping to feel hair and my left testicle as I had at any other time since I'd hit puberty as a boy. Instead, where that should have been, I felt nothing at all. A beam of sunlight suddenly filtered into the room as I reached the middle of my legs, and to my horror, I felt a very small and thin mass of light hair, and then through the pyjama bottoms my fingers reached the tip of something that only a female should have. "No!" I wailed. As the word came out of my mouth, a teenage, feminine voice echoed in my ears. It was as if Katy had just vocally freaked out at something, yet I knew all too well that it was me, in this body, that had said it. I shuddered for a moment, trying to comprehend what had happened, before turning over and bolting upright in the bed. As I did so, though the hair still obscured my view, I realised that it wasn't just me that had gone through a drastic change overnight. So had my room. I quickly raised my left hand from under the bed covers and, with my forearm brushing disconcertingly against a mound on my chest that I didn't dare explore, pushed the hair blocking my view to one side, and then again after it simply fell back into place in front of my face. My room had always been immaculately tidy for the past few years. I'd reached an age where I'd moved on from throwing clothes and rubbish all over the place, wanting it to be easier to find things, and maturely keeping a washing basket and rubbish bin in my bedroom. This room, though, was a tip. I looked around in the still dim light of the morning, and could see CDs and bits of paper all over the floor. Worse still, there were items of girl's clothing scattered around, including a denim skirt just beyond the bed that I could have sworn was the same one that Katy was wearing when I'd last seen her the night before. All of the furniture was also different. There was now some sort of dressing table instead of my desk, and the wardrobe was a focal point, painted in a light pink colour with curved feminine decorations, with a tall mirror on one of the doors and stickers all over it. The walls also seemed to have posters on them and I spotted a small portable television, but they didn't matter right now. I was too consumed with my own self, and while on any other occasion I'd have freaked out at being in what seemed like her bedroom, it just didn't seem to matter that much when I seemed to be in her body. I breathed heavily, still stunned, before looking down at myself, lowering the bed covers to confirm with my own eyes that what I had felt was true. As I had suspected, I was encased in a matching long-sleeved pyjama top and bottoms. The top had the number 23 on it in big red letters in an American college style, but the set was otherwise in a plain cream colour. It was still odd to be wearing pyjamas, but they weren't overly childish. I reached my hand inside of the bottoms, rubbing the top of my new leg and confirming that it was definitely now completely hairless. It crossed my mind to double-check my crotch again, but I couldn't bear to do so. I knew there was nothing masculine there. My eyes scanned up this foreign body. It was uncomfortable to see two breasts sticking out. It felt wrong for me to be looking at a teenage girl's breasts, even if I appeared to be that teenage girl. I felt the breast, squeezing it to see if it was real, and the discomfort instantly confirmed that it was. All through this exploration, the word 'fuck' played on an endless cycle in my head. I'd have been saying it out loud if it wasn't for the fact that I'd already learnt that I had a girl's voice. For the next few moments I just looked down at the body and around the room in a state of shock. I didn't want to move an inch and feel the muscles, or lack of muscles, shift on this body. I didn't even know if I was in my own house, although the shape of the walls of the bedroom suggested that I was. After a moment or two, I heard a stirring outside of the closed bedroom door, and heard the round handle rattle as if somebody was touching it on the other side. 'Shit! What do I do now?' I thought to myself, again in panic mode. I glanced over at the window, briefly entertaining the idea of an escape before realising how impossible that would be, not to mention it would mean being in public in this body. Yet, as the door started to creep open, I had a split second to do something before somebody would see me like this. It came back to me what day it was and what that meant. Monday. If the real Katy was right, I was going to be expected to go and attend a day of school as a girl. As a 14-year-old girl. There was no way I could handle that. I did the only thing I could think of doing, and darted back under the covers on to my right side, to try and look asleep, wincing as I felt the right breast of the body press into the mattress in a less than comfortable fashion. "Katy?" quizzed the woman who had entered the room. It was a woman. It was my mother. "Katy, are you awake yet?" It should perhaps have been of slight relief that it was my own mother's voice. After all, I could have woken up in Katy's house, and I wouldn't have known anything about her parents. At least I'd have a chance with my mother of worming out of this situation, or so I could hope. "It's nearly half-past seven, you'll be late for school", she continued. Even with my own mother, deep down I knew that I couldn't just get out of this by lying on the bed and not responding. If I pretended to be asleep, she'd only try to wake me up. All that I was certain of was that there was no way that I could handle doing anything in my current predicament, not least something as significant as a day of school as a different person. I heard the click of the bedroom dimmer switch, even though it was probably light enough to see already, and felt light fill the room through my closed eyes. I could hear my mother moving toward the bed. I was trapped. I started to part the lips of my new face to speak, but before I could, I felt the covers above me being tugged off the bed, leaving me fully exposed in the pair of pyjamas on the mattress. "Look, I know you're awake, you've got to get up", she said sternly. I could feel the cold air of the room on my new feet for the first time, but the real chill was from what my mother had just done. There was no doubt about it, I wasn't going to be allowed to just lie around doing nothing right now. I turned onto my back to face my mother, the presence of the breasts still almost too much for my brain to process, even if I was starting to notice that they were fairly modest in size. As I looked up to her, she seemed half ready for the day, her hair still frazzled but some of her make-up done. It was unusual for her to be getting ready at such an early time. I quickly tried to think up a clever retort to try to get her to go away, but in the end went for something a lot more blunt. "I don't want to gooooo." I cringed very visibly at the way the words came out of this new mouth of mine. I'd tried to make it a stern statement of intent, but instead it sounded just like any teenage girl who didn't want to go into school. My mother dropped the bed cover which she'd bundled into her hands on the floor of the bedroom, and walked around to the side of the bed. I tried to glance the other way, but it was obvious that she wasn't impressed with my statement. "Catherine Elizabeth, you get up off that bed and get ready now." I felt her grab my arm, and despite my immediate instinctive resistance, found myself pulled out of the bed and onto my feet. My mother would never have been able to overpower me in my own body, nor would she have tried to, but now she seemed so much stronger than me. As I stood there reluctantly, realising I was now a couple of inches smaller than my mother. I didn't think matters could get any worse, before I glanced over to the door and saw my father looking into the room. "Is there a problem here?" he asked, staring at me with serious eyes. I looked to my mother and then down to the feminine body that I had inherited. I had yet to have a chance to properly react to the change, never mind get used to it, and now I was on the verge of being forced to be this girl publicly. There were so many things I could have done right now. I could have plainly refused to do as I was being told, but based on how I'd just been dragged out of the bed, I knew that I'd probably end up being forced into clothes and out the door in the end. There was no way I could run away from the house. For a start, I'd be wearing pyjamas, and I was already getting chilly. It was obviously a cold day outside, even with the occasional glimpse of the autumn Sun. On top of that, Katy didn't look old enough to pass for a college student, so I'd only be picked up by truancy officers regardless. As my mother and father stood waiting for a reply, I realised that I really had no choice but to do as they said right now. I'd have to figure out my options later on. I couldn't bear to reply vocally, so I lowered my head in defeat and shook it from side to side. "Good. Are you dropping her off or am I?" he asked my mother, in such a passive way that it made me feel as if I wasn't in the room. "I'll take her in, she needs to go to the reception area anyway", my mother replied. Being referred to as 'her' and 'she' was just rubbing the current situation in even more. I didn't even try to correct them, forgetting momentarily that Katy had said I couldn't if I wanted to. There was no denying that, right now, I was in the body of a girl. No matter how hard I tried, nobody would ever mistake me for a guy while I looked like Katy. My father disappeared from the doorway without another word, while my mother walked over to the dresser across the room, rummaging around it a little bit with her back to me while I stood frozen, not knowing how to react or what to do. "It's your first day back, everything will turn out fine", she said, before turning to face me with two items from the dresser in her hand. I looked to both of her hands, noticing that she'd picked up the pair of white knickers and the bra that the real Katy had laid out on what was my desk the night before. 'Shit', I thought. "Ok, you obviously sorted your underwear out already last night, so stop stalling and go get ready", she stated. I glanced around for a moment not knowing what to do, while my mother simply looked impatient. Reluctantly I stepped toward her, the smaller surface area of my feet making my steps feel alien, and took the two items of clothing from her. I stood silently as I watched my mother leave the room, holding the underwear of a teenage girl while standing in a teenage girl's body. I looked at the dresser before me, the rest of the school clothes laid out in the same manner that Katy had done so in front of me the night before, the tights and tie dangling off the side and the skirt, blouse and jumper placed neatly amidst the clutter covering the rest of the dresser's surface. 'There is no way I am wearing that', I protested silently to myself, all too aware that my first attempts at protest had just failed miserably. I clenched my feminine fists in anger at everything. What was I going to do? For now, at least, I had been completely defeated. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- After a few moments spent stewing in my own annoyance, I decided to seek out the solace of the household bathroom, figuring that I could at least lock the door and try to collect my thoughts in there. As I made the short journey I could feel my forearm ache from being forced out of bed, reiterating just how weak this body was compared to my own. I was shivering a little, unsure if it was fear or because the house was genuinely quite cold and the pyjamas quite thin. After I reached the bathroom I immediately closed and locked the door, dumping the alien underwear that I had carried on to the floor and sitting on top of the closed toilet seat with my head in my hands. 'Fuck, why did I let this happen', I questioned myself. Less than twelve hours ago, I had been a 21-year-old guy with his life ahead of him. Sure, I'd been tormented for a couple of weeks and spoken to as if I were a school kid by my parents, and had found myself inexplicably not fighting that treatment much at all, but at least I'd always been me. Now, though, I wasn't me. I felt as far from myself as I could be. Despite the slight relief of seeing both of my parents a few moments ago, I was in the body of a child in the eyes of the world, and worse yet, the body of a member of the opposite sex. Even worse, I was in the body of Katy Campbell. 'I have got to get myself out of this', I told myself, referring to both the imposter body and the day that seemingly lay ahead. I replayed what I could remember of my encounter with the actual Katy the night before. She'd told me that she had wished to be someone else, and that that wish had somehow been granted in the form of swapping identities with me. More crushingly, though, I played over what she'd said about the aftermath of the swap. No going back, being unable to tell people what had happened. I think she had even said at one point that I couldn't contact her about it. Then, it dawned on me. What was my real body doing right now? If I was now a girl, did that mean that Katy was a guy? That she was now, well, me? Scared by that thought, I stretched out my new legs and looked down at the tiny feet that I had noticed on Katy the night before. Feet that were now mine, possibly forever. Reluctantly, I stood up of my own accord in her body for the first time, stepping toward the mirror in front of me. I'd looked in the same mirror everyday recently and been thankful to see me, solace that nothing physically had changed amidst the weird goings on. In the course of a night's sleep, though, it had gone from nothing to, well, everything. The girly face looking back at me was definitely that of Katy Campbell, although it didn't look as it had previously. The lack of make-up was making blemishes on her skin visible that I hadn't seen before, including the odd red mark that may have been a spot at some point. Her bed head hair was all over the place. The other thing that was different was the expression of shock on her face, but that was definitely just me, a reminder that at least my emotions were my own. Staring at her face in a mirror and having released this swap would work both ways, it scared me more than even being a girl to think that she'd have full control of my life, albeit presumably with her own parents. She could ruin me in a day. What if she decided to wear girl's clothes in public? Or remained attracted to guys? How would she cope with University work? How would she deal with my friends? For a few minutes I stared into Katy's eyes, all too aware they were now mine, trying to find a silver lining where there wasn't one and an escape from all of this. Was this it? Could I not find a way to get out of this ever? Was my life no longer my own? It wasn't something I was ready to accept, and so after a few moments of mentally going around in circles, I eventually found a new straw to clutch at. 'If I can't handle this, then how the hell can she handle being me?' There was no way that Katy was going to be able to cope with being me. From her lack of life experience to her girly mannerisms, she was simply never going to be happy as an adult guy. She'd want to change back. I was sure of it. Katy's experiences as me, I hastily decided, had to be my best hope now. She'd hate this and wish to be herself again, or do anything to have her own life back and stop me from being trapped in some sort of mundane, juvenile existence as a school girl. Somewhere amidst my thoughts was the idea that I might have to cope in such an existence until all of this reversed itself, but before I could truly contemplate that I heard an unwanted knock on the bathroom door and the unwelcome sound of my mother's voice. "It's quarter to eight Katy, get a move on", she said. I looked toward the door, an arm's length away from me but thankfully locked. "You've got half an hour to get ready, do you hear me?" A shiver ran down my spine as I realised again what was expected of me. No matter how much hope I could have of this all being reversed, how the hell could I ever be ready to appear in public looking like this? I looked around. I had no escape. I'd already realised earlier that I couldn't just climb out of a window or run out of the house, and I knew that the law dictated that any girl of this age would have to be in school on a school day. 'Fucking hell, I'm going to have to be this girl for a while', I bemoaned to myself. I looked at the mirror one last time before realising I'd have to hurry up, and begrudgingly I parted my new lips to reply to my mother. "Yes, mum", I stated, trying to sound as natural as possible but still proving to be completely freaked out by the sound of Katy's voice speaking my words. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- After I had gotten my mother away from the door, I realised for the first time that I particularly needed to pee. I'd been too occupied to notice it since waking up, but the last thing I needed right now was to proceed to soil myself in someone else's body. I stepped in front of the toilet and flipped up the toilet seat, lowering the pyjama bottoms down a little, still trying to keep my hands away from my new unwanted crotch. I then stood bemused for a couple of seconds, before realising the anatomical flaw to my intentions. 'Oh, fuck, do I have to', I pondered, yet again brushing the increasingly irritating strands of brown hair out of my face. With a basic knowledge of the female anatomy at my disposal, I knew that girls didn't just unzip their fly and let loose. I sighed again, swallowed my pride, and lowered the pyjama bottoms down to my ankles, trying not to catch a glimpse of my offending genitalia. Then, bringing the toilet seat back down and sitting down on it, I waited for something to happen. After a few moments of trying to push out and force a flow of urine to no avail, I felt a flow come gushing out from nowhere, an unnerving feeling that made me curl my toes a little at how unnatural it felt to be peeing like a girl. I was using muscles I didn't know existed, if they had ever even been part of my own body. I sat on the seat for a few seconds after the stream had finished, before standing up, wiping the moisture away with a piece off the toilet roll, and pulling the pyjama bottoms back on properly. 'I never want to have to do that ever again', I bluntly told myself. After that I proceeded to attempt a quick morning routine, acting in haste due to not wanting to learn what my mother and especially father would do to 'their daughter' didn't hurry up. I started simply, proceeding to brush my teeth. My teeth felt like the only thing on my body that hadn't changed, because like myself Katy's teeth had fully developed into an adult set. That didn't stop me from being reminded of my status by my new, sparkly blue toothbrush, however. In fact, it seemed that all of my old hygiene products and items in the bathroom had changed. My share of the products in the bathroom cabinet had dwindled down to a body lotion, a girl's razor, and an opened box of tampons, the latter of which I didn't even want to contemplate having to use. Next I washed my face, feeling uncomfortable at having to touch the softer, smaller and more delicate features that Katy possessed, and almost poking myself in the eye twice due to not expecting my eyes to be where they were. I'd faintly hoped that the cold water might bring me around from the bad dream, but sadly that didn't seem to be in my immediate future, and so I dried my face off and looking around to see what might be next. Eventually, I set my eyes on the items of clothing I had thrown on the floor. "Fuck", I muttered quietly, the word sounding less annoyed and more cutesy in Katy's stereotypically teenaged voice. I knelt down and picked up the two items that I'd been handed by my mother before heading to the bathroom. I figured that getting changed into her underwear for the day must be part of Katy's bathroom routine, and with my mother's out-of-character impatience, perhaps something that I should try to do before returning to the bedroom. I picked up the knickers first. The cotton material didn't feel too alien, especially as I'd worn cotton underwear myself as a child, but the slight feminine trim and 'Age 15-16' on the tag in the back was enough of a reminder of the person that these were normally worn by. I stood up, catching my new reflection once more in the bathroom mirror, before reluctantly stepping out of the pyjama bottoms and putting my left leg into the left leg hole of the knickers, followed by the right. I closed my eyes shut tightly to psych myself up, before yanking the knickers up my legs in one fell swoop, leaving them to rest around the top of my hips. I looked down, and realised that, in the space of about five seconds, I'd voluntarily put on an item of pre-worn, female underwear. I could feel the material digging into my skin a little, and perhaps in to my very soul as well. The fit of the knickers was clearly nothing like anything I'd felt before. Instead of the roomy and snug fit of my boxer shorts, these felt small and restricting. Looking down, I could see nothing but a flat white material and smooth, pale legs. Trying to detach myself from what I was doing, I decided to just get on with it, and took off the pyjama top, pulling each long sleeve out before dumping it on the floor and picking up the white bra. 'What now?' Putting the knickers on had been easy. After all, despite their different design, in essence they were just two legs holes as with my usual underwear. Clearly, however, the bra was going to be an altogether different challenge. I tried to recall what Katy had shown me while I was pretty much paralysed the night before, and facing the bra forwards I put my arms through the straps one after the other, both lying loosely over my shoulders. In terms of getting it on it was a case of so far, so good, I figured. I fumbled my left hand around my back a bit, trying to locate the clasp that I knew needed to be fastened to get the garment on correctly. Eventually I managed to grip a piece of material, and grabbed the other side with my right hand, feeling my new breasts disturbingly sticking out due to my arms being behind my back. After a moment or two of trying to catch them together, and almost getting it several times only for the bra to come loose again, I managed to get them to clasp and felt the material at the back tighten. 'Is this thing on me now?' I wondered rhetorically. Realising that it was, I lowered my hands, and began to notice how much it was digging into my back. Katy had said it was a tight fit the night before, and while it was thankfully reducing the movement of my breasts, the presence of the back strap was very quickly a constant reminder of the fact that I was wearing female clothing. I turned to the mirror again, finding myself looking at a teenage girl wearing a plain white bra, with a small but noticeable bow in the middle between the two cups. There was no doubt about it. To any onlooker that were to see me right now, I'd be wearing the appropriate underwear. 'This whole situation had better not last much longer', I told myself, looking away from the mirror. Sighing in defeat to the underwear, I unlocked the bathroom door and returned to my bedroom, keeping a brisk pace to try and avoid my parents seeing me in such feminine items, even if they'd today not find it at all unusual to do so. As I reached my new bedroom, I had a chance to get a better look at the alterations to it, and the possessions that I had now involuntarily inherited. In the full light of day, everything I had owned seemed to be gone, replaced with something more fitting for the day-to-day life of a teenage girl. I noticed that the top of the dresser was covered in all manner of hygiene products and make-up bottles, making up for the lack of products in the bathroom, along with a worn-looking portable stereo that had probably been bought over ten years ago. At the foot of the dresser lay a noticeably cheap laptop with a hot pink cover, as well as a pair of small fluffy cream slippers that I suspected Katy might usually wear for her morning bathroom routine. The poster that I had vaguely noticed earlier was probably the worst sight, though, since it was of a topless footballer. I hadn't even begun to consider the idea that I was now a girl at the age where they start to look at boys in a certain way, nor did I intend to anytime soon. Trying to block the poster out, I made my way to the dresser, and brushing the hair which had fallen in front of my face out of the way again, and trying to ignore the feeling of the bra on my chest and back, I looked down for the second time today at the remaining clothes that Katy had laid out for school. It was definitely all unchanged from last night, with a school jumper, a blouse, a school tie, a short skirt and a pair of tights all on the desk, all neatly laid out and ready for a teenage girl to wear to school. The problem, of course, was that I was now the teenage girl in question. I briefly pondered a u-turn or attempted escape from wearing the clothes in front of me again, but the sound of my mother in the background elsewhere in the house was a constant parental reminder of my current predicament, and that, no matter what I tried, I'd probably have little choice but to pull these clothes on to this body. It was at this point that I remembered an episode from my own teenage years, in my rightful body as Tony. I'd wanted the day off school once at around the age of 12, and after repeated warnings to get ready and my stubborn refusal, had been dressed by my dad and dragged out of the door to the car. Whether he'd do that to what he believed to be his daughter, I did not know, but I wasn't about to try and find out. 'Let's just, ugh, let's just do it', I told myself, hoping Katy was about to wake up as me and wish the world back to normal. Looking at the items, I decided that I should put the tights on first. My legs were starting to become frigid, not least because they were completely lacking of hair, and I figured that it was probably what a girl would usually do first. I picked them up off the desk, holding them in front of me. It was now that I noticed how small they looked when not worn, looking barely wide enough to fit around an underfed supermodel's legs, never mind the average legs that this body possessed. Examining the tights some more and stretching them a bit, I noticed that the toes seem to have the odd bobble, a reminder that this particular pair had been worn before. Somehow, the idea that the tights had seen at least a full day of Katy's life before, and been worn around school with the rest of this uniform as well, made things a whole lot worse. Not only were these girl's clothes, but they were the clothes of a real girl, who'd lived her all too real life in them before she'd forced it on to me. I sat down on the bed with the tights, and stretched the opening as best I could, trying to put my left foot in them as I would a pair of jeans. It didn't seem to work, my foot not sliding into them as I would typically expect. 'Right, that's not going to happen then." My concentration on trying to figure out how to get the tights on had led me to ignore the approach to my bedroom door of my mother, which I only noticed as I saw her come in to my eyeline and begin to speak. "Katy, I'm so-", she started to say, before noticing me holding the tights and stopping. She looked like she may have been a lot calmer than she had been when I'd first seen her this morning, but the sight of me, for reasons she was about to make clear, agitated her all over again. "God, Katy, are you deliberately being so slow this morning? Come on, get your uniform on!" she barked. Great. This was just what I needed, a hurry-up to keep me from taking this all at my own pace. My mother stood looking at me, so sighing inwardly I placed my left foot into the tights to avoid my fear of being forced into the clothes or worse. The stuff my foot in approach hadn't worked, so I tried to gradually work the material up my leg, bit by bit, eventually succeeding in getting the material halfway up my left leg to my left knee. As I did this, my mother started to glance around the floor at all of the items scattered around it, feeling no need to give me the privacy to get dressed that I'd got used to since my age had been in the single figures. Trying to ignore my mother, I worked the material over my right leg in the same way as the left, also reaching my knee before standing, as if I were going to pull a pair of jeans up. That turned out to be a mistake at best. As I stood, I found myself stumbling over the material not yet on my leg, only avoiding falling over by pressing my hand hard down onto the bed. "Katy, what are you doing?" my mother asked sharply, noticing what I had done. My resolve was starting to wear thin now. I had no idea how to do this, and if anything, I'd done quite well to just get the bra on, never mind the tights. It was an instinctive reaction, and probably one I'd come to regret, as I started to bite for the first time, sounding agitated and stressed out. "I don't know! I'm, I'm", I said, not sure what to say and trying to stop myself from making the situation worse. My mother sighed, as I sat back down onto the bed behind me, the tights still partly on and bunched up around my calves. "I'm sorry Katy, I know your first day back won't be easy. I just don't want you to hide in here forever and not go." I knew the 'first day back' wouldn't be easy without my oblivious mother telling me, although I strongly suspected she didn't mean because I was an adult guy that had become a teenage girl and was now trying to put on a pair of tights for the first time ever. "I'll leave you for a couple of minutes to get dressed and come and help you with your hair and stuff, if that'll be easier for today?" The idea of privacy sounded good to me. Well, the idea of being left alone until everything went back to normal sounded good to me, but that seemed like it would be impossible. Accepting that privacy and then getting help would be better than guesswork, I nodded slowly, allowing my mother to leave the room. Although she had seemingly relented, I still didn't especially want to cross her, and so I returned to the tights with a view to getting the unwanted clothes on before she returned. Returning to the tights, I opted not to stand this time, instead working them both up my legs bit by bit, taking around thirty seconds until they covered my thighs and the white underwear that Katy had laid out. I messed around with them while before managing to smooth each leg out as evenly as I could, disappointed that as I did the cold air of the house was barely cancelled out, still reaching my new skin through the material of the tights. 'Fucking hell, these don't stop the cold at all', I told myself, briefly ignoring the fact that my body temperature wasn't the most pressing of concerns right now. The shape of the knickers was clear through the tights, the white material clashing. Knowing how Katy had been teasing me, it wouldn't have surprised me for her to have deliberately chosen the underwear knowing that. Even now, she seemed to be messing with my head. I minced across the floor, finding the contact between the carpet and my feet unnerving and a little slippery. Reaching the dresser, I grabbed the blouse, and put it on like a shirt. It wasn't too difficult, although I instinctively tried to button it on the wrong side. Nonetheless, once it was on it almost felt like a boy's item, although the breasts that it seemed to accentuate were a reminder that I was no longer a male. Also, the blouse sleeves seemed to be a little longer, covering my elbows and leaving my upper arms looking more slender. Next I put the tie on the same way that I always had back in my own school days, followed by the navy blue school jumper. As I finished pulling down the school jumper, I found solace in the fact that, for a moment or two, albeit in the wrong body, I hadn't had to put anything embarrassing and female on. That was a relief that was short-lived, as I turned to the dresser, noticing the sole remaining item sitting there. The item that I'd dreaded the most. 'This is not going to be easy', I told myself, as if anything was right now. Katy had made a point of teasing me the most about the skirt the night before, even putting it on my lap at one point while talking about how the boys liked the style. It had given me a bit of a complex, clearly, because I'd resigned myself to wearing a bra and tights but saw this as infinitely worse. In my hands now, it looked shorter than ever, and the thoughts of my male dignity dying with it were all that echoed through my head. I looked down at the legs of this body. Even though the tights had barely warmed my legs up, and even though the knickers I had to wear were visible, it crossed my mind that I'd rather just stay like this, half-dressed, than put the skirt on at all. 'If only I could', I pondered, knowing I was pretty much trapped right now. I dropped the skirt to the floor, it forming something of a rectangular shape at my feet, waiting to be stepped in to. 'Why can't she just wear trousers?' I minced forward slowly, placing my tights-encased left foot into the skirt on the floor, following with my right. 'One, two, oh, fuck it', I told myself. I reached down, grabbing the material with both hands and pulling it upward so that it surrounded my legs. I started to draw it up my legs slowly, hearing my mother returning once more. I seemed to be legitimately scared of my mother shouting again, and so I started to draw it up my legs faster. Even as the skirt passed the top of my knees, it didn't seem too restricting, but as it reached my new thighs the tight feeling was becoming noticeable, forcing me to slide and tug it up the rest of the way. With my mother now in the room watching me, I hiked the skirt up to cover the knickers, at least getting my flat crotch out of my own view. Still holding it up in place, I looked for a button or a zip, eventually locating and pulling up a thin zip on my left side which only worked to make the skirt feel even tighter than it already was. As I released my hand from the zip, a big part of me wanted to scream or cry, as I realised all too well that I was now fully dressed in a girl's school uniform. The blouse and jumper were offering the only real warmth to the body, the two layers enough to cancel out the cold of the house. The skirt was tightly encasing my legs, and as I stepped forward I felt the material heavily limit the movement of my thighs. 'Fucking hell, why do girls choose to wear these things?' I dreaded to think how I actually looked right now from an external perspective, and made a point to not look in the nearby mirror as I turned to my mother, idly standing and hoping she would provide some guidance. Luckily, she read my facial expressions, and decided to tell me exactly what else Katy would do in this situation. "Ok, dear, I guess I'll do your hair for you and help you with your make-up, unless you want to do it yourself now?" "Umm, can you do it for me please?" I replied. I knew it was odd for a 14-year-old to have her mother help her get partly ready, but for some odd reason, it seemed that Katy had been off school for a while and her return was a big deal. I didn't care why she'd been off, of course, but if I could use it to make life easier for now, then I would do so. "Alright, sit down. Are you wearing a hair band today?" I sat down at the chair at the dresser, feeling the skirt at the back catch on the chair and ride up. I heard my mother giggle a bit. "I can tell you've not worn your uniform for a while, don't do that today!" she said light-heartedly. I looked up over my head to my mother, not entirely sure what she was talking about. "Do what?" I plainly asked. "Sit down like that, everyone will see your knickers", she told me. I could feel my face burn a little, meaning I was probably blushing at my mother referring to people seeing the underwear that I'd only had to put on a short time ago, and that stood out due to the colour clash. "So darling, hair band or not?" my mother asked again. I really had no interest in choosing a hairstyle, but it did cross my mind quickly that the hair had been a huge annoyance since I'd woken up in this body, constantly getting in the way of my eyes and in my mouth. I figured hair bands were designed partly to prevent that. Just as I was about to say yes, however, I remembered that I'd seen Katy in a hair band and felt it had made her look younger. The last thing I needed was to give people a reason to make life more difficult for me, and so I settled on an answer. "No", I quietly answered. "Well, alright then." My mother grabbed a brush and stood in front of me, and proceeded to start brushing the hair on my head around. She seemed to be brushing it in random directions at first, but after a moment or two I started to notice it appearing more in the corner of my left eye, and then the motions continuing more in that direction. After what seemed like an age of brushing, she eventually stood back. "Ok, does that feel alright to you?" For the first time the hair didn't feel as it were about to get in my eyes, and thankful for that at least, I nodded. I then watched as my mother picked up a tall, pink can and sprayed it all around my hair a little, leaving a feminine scent in the room that I'd smelled plenty of times before when my mother had used hair spray. I'd used hair spray before myself when I'd had hair of a medium length, but I'd also made sure to use a scentless one, and had bemoaned running out and having to use my mother's due to the horrible feminine smell it left in the air. It was probably supposed to be a nice, perfumed smell, but instead all it managed to do is offend my confused senses a little bit more. "Alright sweetie, now I'll just put a bit of foundation on and you should be ready for the day", she continued. The word 'sweetie' made me cringe pretty visibly, but didn't concern my mother at all. I suppose even the real Katy might have found that patronising at age 14, but then she seemed relatively feminine, as I was all too reminded by the tight skirt around my thighs and the feeling of the tights whenever I wriggled my toes. For the next few moments I found my face being touched and dabbed on with a large brush, and my eyelashes stroked with a small brush. It didn't seem like she was doing much, but I knew all too well of the no make-up policy at my old school, that I appeared to be condemned to attending for a spell unless I could think up a way out very soon. Eventually my mother finished with the brushes and stepped back, taking a look at me for a moment or two and smiling before standing up and towering over my seated body. "Ok, that's you all done. Get your shoes on and come downstairs, we'll have to dash off soon", she replied. At this point I realised that I hadn't eaten yet, but food wasn't really a key issue for me right now. After all, I'd just been told I was about to have to go outside. Outside. As a girl. Wearing this stuff. Was there going to be any last minute way to avoid this? I sat down in the chair for a few moments to collect my thoughts. Clearly my mother was in a rush for whatever reason, and she'd got ready herself during the time in which I'd been in the bathroom trying to figure a way out of the mess I was now in. Additionally, I was being parented a lot more strongly than I had been before the apparent swap, almost treated more like I had been as a primary school child in my own school years. Clearly my parents saw more of a need to be strict with a daughter than a son. I slowly stood up and glanced around the room, and knew that any resistance would be pointless, and that my fate, for now at least, was sealed. 'Just get through this Tony, this won't be forever', I attempted to convince myself. I glanced around the messy floor to try and spot a pair of shoes that resembled something a girl would wear to school. I knew that Katy had thrown them somewhere the night before, and eventually I spotted both of them below the bedroom window. I made my way over to them, partly wanting to get something onto my feet to remove the sensation of the tights on the carpet, but also realising it would unwelcomely complete the schoolgirl look that I was now undesirably rocking. I picked one of the shoes up, and examined it. I'd only ever worn loafers to school, some some girls had also done, albeit normally if they were a bit of a tomboy or a chav. Unfortunately for me, Katy wasn't either of those things, and I quickly noticed that Katy's school shoes of choice were a pair of especially girly black ballet flats, not too dissimilar to those that she'd worn on the first day that we had met. The shoes possessed a small, fake, fastended gold buckle on a strap across the front, seemingly present for aesthetic reasons than to actually be used. The shoes appeared to be quite cheaply-produced, and close-up looked to be well-worn, with the soles of the shoes heavily faded and the front a little bit scuffed. 'She's probably worn these for most of her time at the school', I told myself, just as uncomfortable with the idea as I had been with the tights earlier. I dumped the shoe that I had picked up back onto the floor, slipping my foot into it and finding that it slid in very easily due to the tights that I had no choice but to be wearing. The second shoe went on just as smoothly, my heel fitting snugly into the item and the shoe encasing the sides of my foot but leaving the top exposed to the world save for the black tights. At that point, I looked around and realised that I had done exactly what I'd said I'd try to not do. I'd just fully gotten ready for a day in the life of a teenage school girl. At this stage I needed to see how I looked, how the world would perceive me with this identity. I knew I looked like Katy from the bathroom mirror earlier, but I knew that the school uniform and my mother's efforts would have changed my appearance, probably for me for the worse. Walking in front of the mirror, I looked at myself and immediately wished that I'd stayed ignorant to my appearance. 'Fuck, it's, it's just like in the photo', I freaked out mentally. Before me stood the very picture of Katy in the photo she had teasingly tagged as me on Facebook early on in this whole debacle. Back when I had no reason to believe swapping places was even possible, and back when I had a chance to stop it from happening. The navy blue school jumper, with petite but noticeable breasts protruding out as two mounds, made my gender all too clear. A tight navy skirt that caused my steps to become mincing and had rode up the moment I had sat down, ended considerably above my new knees and showed off Katy's smooth legs. The tights, that made my legs an opaque black, just like any schoolgirl that chose to wear a skirt to school on a cold day. My feet, encased in a pair of worn school shoes, which had an annoyingly feminine look, outing Katy as the kind of girl that wanted to add something pretty to her otherwise regulation uniform. My face was made up just like hers normally was, and unlike in the bathroom mirror earlier, no blemishes were in sight. Instead was a slightly cute, yet relatively average-looking teenage girl, who looked every bit her fourteen years. Finally, my hair had been done in a standard style with a fringe, just like the majority of teenage girls I'd attended classes with several years ago. My examination left me, above all else, one question. 'How the hell can this be me?' Before I could answer myself, as if I could have done so I heard a call from my father to hurry up and get downstairs. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Seeing myself in a mirror all dressed up as a girl should have been the worst feeling of the morning, but as I slowly yet obediently walked downstairs, I noticed more signs of the situation that I was, as of right now, seemingly unable to escape. Our staircase and hallway had always been decorated with family photos, mainly of myself and my two parents, but also of my grandparents and extended family, dating back to my childhood and to before I had even been born. The presence of the photos hadn't changed, but as I looked at them, every single one that had formerly had me, Tony Bradley, in it had been replaced by the intruder in my life and the thief of my body, Katy Campbell. If the photos meant anything, the entire past had been altered so that Katy had always been a part of my family, and that I had never been. A photo from my final year of primary school, of me in my school uniform, had been replaced by a photo of a primary school girl, wearing her own school uniform of a grey pleated skirt and a white polo shirt. The photo was dated only a few years ago, a reminder of my new age. Our family holiday to Spain when I was a ten-year-old had gone from me standing with a beachball next to my dad in swim shorts to my dad cradling a female toddler in his arms. The holiday photo from five years before that didn't feature me at all or a replacement, no doubt because Katy hadn't even been born when I was a young child. 'Shit', I told myself, stating the obvious. I reached the bottom of the stairs wanting to cry, and not knowing why I hadn't yet during the awful past hour or so, considered turning around and running straight back upstairs. Before I had a chance, I was met by my mother, handing me a girl's black canvas school bag and a sandwich bun. "We've got to go so you'll have to have your breakfast on the way, sorry", my mother explained. I looked down at the sandwich I'd been given, but found myself being ushered towards the door, and my reluctance to move being met with disapproval. "I've got to get to work Katy! Let's go", my mother explained. "Do as your mother says, and have fun", my father chimed in, adding a sarcastic slant to the word 'fun." Annoyingly the staircase was not far from the front door, and before I'd had a chance to think of how to act I was nearing the doorstep, before my mother overtook me and finally let me maneuver of my own accord. 'Think, Tony, think', I demanded of myself. The front door was now wide open, the world going about its average Monday morning, while I was about to possibly experience the biggest living nightmare and the most unaverage day imaginable. My mother had already reached the car and opened the passenger door for me, as I realised that I was going to have to either fully resist or go ahead with a day in Katy's life. I looked around one last time to evaluate my options. My father was behind me, presumably to wave my mother and myself goodbye for the morning, but inadvertently preventing me from re-entering the house. I again couldn't just run away, especially not in a school uniform, because I'd only eventually get caught up to by my mother in a car or, worse yet, caught by a community support officer and brought back home to be scolded. "Katy! Come on!" my mother called, getting into the car on the driver's side. It was clear. Right now, there was no escape. I physically stamped my foot a little in frustration, unaware of if either of my parents had noticed, but finding the loud slap of the flats on my foot against the doorstep to not have the desired effect. I headed toward the passenger side of the car, getting flashbacks once more to the night that the real Katy had stood in the vicinity wearing jeans, handing me the much more feminine and undeniably teenage clothes of hers that I was wearing now. As I stepped into the car, I tried to block it all out and pretend that this somehow wasn't happening, that life would be back to normal soon. I made a crude effort to prevent the skirt riding up as it had earlier as I sat down, and proceeded to distract myself by closing my eyes and beginning to eat the sandwich. I heard the roar of an engine. I felt the motion of a car accelerating. Then, it clicked. This was the point of no return. I was clearly going to be driven straight to the grounds of my old school, at which point I'd not be able to get away from the place until the end of the school day, unless the hopeful happened and everything reverted back to normal before then. I would be expected to do all of the things that a school kid would do. Answer to the name Katy on the register, complete classwork, hand in homework, and be coerced into chatting about whatever juvenile things Katy talked about with her friends. That would have been bad enough without it being in a skirt, that I'd been told boys liked on a girl, or items of clothing like a bra and tights that only girls would justifiably wear outside of a fancy dress party or University bar crawl. I opened my eyes and turned to my mother, who was keeping her attention solely to the road and had not spoken to me, barely acknowledging my existence. As we continued along the road, my concerns only began to heighten, and my heart started to beat that little bit faster. At that point, I saw the final straw for my mental resolve to get through this. We were on the main road to the school by now, less than five minutes away in the car, and I started to spot navy blue clad individuals of varying shapes and sizes on both sides of the street, moving in the same direction as the much faster car. From groups of boys chatting away to girls texting on their mobile phones, to the odd kid on their own and the tall, leggy, final year female students, every one of them was casually making their way to school on a Monday morning. 'Fuck, fuck, I'm not one of these!' I fretted to myself. I turned to my mother, still ignoring me, and decided that it was time to stop trying. This was all a lie, and I had to let her know it now, because I couldn't do this. 'I need to tell her I'm her son, her 21-year-old son', I said to myself. I turned my head to her, and opened my mouth to demand we turn back because her son should not have to be in this situation. Instead, it turned out, I said nothing at all. I tried again. Then, it hit me. 'What, I can't say this? Oh, shit', I said to myself. I'd briefly forgotten all about Katy's statement the night before, that we'd be unable to speak of the switch at any time and tell anyone who we really were. I sat looking dumbfounded at my mother, before she noticed in the corner of her eye that I was looking at her. "Katy, do you want to say something?" I could feel a slight stinging in my eyes, as if I was about to break down in front of her. That would probably have been the best thing, but my masculine resolve was still clearly slightly intact, and so instead I lowered my head to look at my feet. "N-No, nothing", I meekly replied. A few moments later we pulled off the main road and onto the side road toward the school, eventually pulling up near to the gates, the paths around us even more swamped with school children and my mind in a complete panic. Pulling into the car park, the car eventually came to a halt immediately in front of the reception area, which had always been separate to the student entrances and so proved to be thankfully quieter than the rest of the surrounding locality. As the car stopped, it was clear what I was supposed to do, but my mother helpfully reminded me regardless. "Alright, you've got to go to reception remember, and Mr. Bailey will meet you there." I sighed, outwardly, my mother not noticing. "I've got to work until five today, so will you be alright walking home?" she continued. I responded by shrugging my shoulders, looking around out of the windows. "I'll take that as a yes. I'll see you at home, then." My mother hesitated for a moment before reaching over and kissing me on the cheek, something she'd never have done before when I had been of school age. Of course, to her right now, I wasn't a guy with macho pride. I was Katy, and I was now in the car park about to experience a day of school. Reluctantly I pulled down the car door handle, and swung my legs out of the car, being met by a cold gust of wind that acted to bring everything from the skirt downward right back to the chilly temperatures of earlier on. Grabbing the bag from the foot of the passenger seat, I took one last look at my mother in the hope I could say why this was wrong, before sighing inwardly and stepping away from the car. Immediately after I closed the door the car moved away. Just a few seconds later it had disappeared out of the gates and down the road, my mother heading toward her workplace and leaving what she thought to be her daughter for her big day back at school. I was on my own now. On my own with the identity of a teenage girl. I glanced around, and resigned to this horrible experience continuing for now, I stepped toward the reception area. I'd have dithered outside for longer, but the morning was very cold, and indoors seemed like a better idea right now. The automatic doors slid open as I approached, and I stepped inside. A couple of steps further forward and the doors shut behind me, the faint sound of their closure symbolic of my current predicament. I looked around. I'd not been in the reception area for a few years, but it hadn't changed. At my feet was a dark red carpet, and comfortable chairs lay to my left, a corridor to my right and a reception desk directly in front of me. I looked around nervously before noticing that the receptionist was looking straight toward me, no doubt awaiting the enquiry of a young girl that would normally have entered via the student gates, and not the reception area reserved for teachers and visiting adults. As I walked toward her in the hope that this would all end right now, only one question was on my mind. 'How the hell do I get out of this?' ----------------------------------------------------------------------- AUTHOR NOTES - A big thanks goes to Jaime Ehlers for proofreading this chapter. I also thank the readers that offered their feedback, and also those that e-mailed me recently to tell me to hurry up with this part!