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TRANSFORMATION By Annie James Prologue, Allan's voice seemed to come out of a fog. The words, "It's a boy!" registered on my confused senses. Slowly the mist began to clear. A man's face, fuzzy at first, began to take shape. My eyes struggled to focus as the face moved closer. Lips touched mine, ---- gently, as a man kisses a new mother. The faint pressure of lips ceased and as the head drew back a second person spoke, crisply and clearly. "You will have to leave now, Mr. Hartley. She needs her rest. She'll be ready to talk tomorrow." I wanted to protest, but the fog seemed to be rolling over my mind again. The scene faded, to be recalled vaguely next afternoon, as I slowly sorted my memories while nursing seven pounds six ounces of new baby. CHAPTER 1 Joan and I were married two weeks after my promotion to full professor. She was a doctoral student whose thesis was being written on the role of the husband in a patriarchal (i.e. Victorian Age) society. She was also a dark-eyed beauty who, while well aware of her attraction for men, usually rejected their advances. She seemed self-sufficient and not overly interested in people, but when she chose to turn on the charm, others, both male and female, rushed to do her bidding. I was physically attracted to her at first sight. Early in the term she requested a private consultation on the paper she was preparing for my course. Our conversation was pleasant and relaxed and led to further meetings over coffee between classes. I was surprised when she accepted my invitation to join an informal student discussion group which met regularly on Thursday evenings in my quarters. By mid-term she had become my regular date for attending university affairs ranging from Shakespearian plays to Hockey games. Our relationship was relaxed but correct, never physical, probably because I feared to offend her. At the graduation ball we progressed to dancing cheek to cheek. Afterwards we discussed for the first time our dreams for the future. Hers were simple. She wished to marry and settle down. Obtaining a doctorate in Sociology was just a means of putting in time until the right man came along. He would have to be someone she could look up to and respect. That I might be that man slowly dawned on me over the next week. We spent all our free time together. By Friday evening I had popped the question and she had said yes. The following week we were married in a simple ceremony with only her father and my sister for witnesses. Our transformation into a traditional family unit was completed six months later with the purchase of a house in the suburbs. Joan expressed no regret at having abandoned her career and rapidly adapted herself to looking out for my welfare. For the first time since childhood I was reminded when to wear a hat and when to carry a raincoat. Taking out the garbage was a minor price to pay for the privilege of being greeted daily by a smiling wife on my return from work. CHAPTER 2 The announcement that Allan's research project was proving practical caught me by surprise. We had often discussed his 'infernal machine', but I had never believed that he would succeed in transferring consciousness from one being to another. I watched while he demonstrated that learned behaviour in two laboratory rats could be interchanged so that each reacted as the other had been trained to do. Furthermore he was able to repeat the process, thus restoring each rat to its original behaviour. As if that were not enough he proceeded to repeat the demonstration using two laboratory monkeys. At my questioning he admitted that he had been conducting such tests daily for over a month, always with successful results. "When do you intend to publish your findings?" I asked. "Not for a long while yet." "Why not? It's the discovery of the century! It will revolutionize Psychology." "There's no hurry. I want to do much more testing. I haven't tried it out with human beings yet." "Human beings! Where will you find two persons willing to try such an experiment?" "That shouldn't be difficult. I want to try it myself so there is only one to find." Such was Allan's enthusiasm, and confidence in his machine, that within an hour he had persuaded me to participate with him that very afternoon. He hastened to complete his preparations before I could change my mind. The procedure was simple. Each of us stood beside the machine under a device which looked like a large television tube. The controlling switch at the side of the room was operated by a timer. Thirty seconds seemed like an eternity as we waited for the machine to be activated. After the click I first thought that nothing had happened. Then I noticed that my perspective had changed. "Can I move now?" I asked, surprised at the sound of my own voice. "Certainly, old chap," answered another strange voice. We looked at each other, each startled to see his own body standing three feet away. "Well, it works." "Did you ever have any doubt?" "Now what do we do?" "Nothing much, I suppose. We've proved it works. I suppose we should also prove that it works in reverse. Within five minutes we had again experienced that change in perspective and found ourselves back in our own bodies. CHAPTER 3 When I confessed to Joan at supper that Allan had persuaded me to participate in the first trial of his machine, I was surprised at the intense interest she showed. She questioned me minutely on the details of my experience and had me repeat my description of the few moments during which we were in each other's bodies. I was unable to answer her questions about Allan's plans for further tests and wondered why she asked. It was then I learned she had once discussed the project with Allan back in her days as a graduate student. Allan had been a member of the faculty committee to which her thesis was submitted. Their conversation followed one of her consultations with that committee and specifically related to the application of Allan's project to sociological research. She remembered having volunteered herself as a subject if the project succeeded. Needless to say, she had never expected that it would. During the evening she continued to ask questions and to speculate on uses of the machine. Were any memories lost in the transfer? Is it possible that either person retained memories from the other? Her questions tended to frighten me, but her conclusion was novel though logical. The first subjects should be very close to each other, a married couple for instance. She and I perhaps! In the end Joan insisted that I should offer Allan our services. When Allan and I met for lunch the following day he was pondering just that question, who to use for subjects? He jumped at Joan's suggestion, which I reluctantly relayed, and an appointment was made immediately for the three of us to meet that very afternoon to discuss the details. At that meeting Allan's tentative plan to spend the following Saturday afternoon with us in his laboratory was decisively rejected by Joan. She insisted that we must have a period of orientation first and she was determined that it would last longer than a half day. "We'll change on Friday afternoon and John and I will drive over to the city right after the switch is made. I've got tickets for the opera that night and I'll phone for hotel reservations. We'll come back Sunday evening. After that you can arrange for tests." "I'll agree provided that John is willing and provided that we can carry out my tests next Saturday," responded Allan. . . . . . Thus it was that Joan brought our car to the university on Friday afternoon with the two weekend bags she had packed in the trunk. At precisely three P.M. she walked into the lab where I sat watching Allan check his apparatus. At precisely three twenty-three we stood in our places looking at each other while the switch was thrown, and thirty seconds later I experienced that sudden change of perspective for the third time. This was for me the most dramatic. From looking down at the face of a woman, I was suddenly looking up at the face of a man. I stood still for a further moment, savouring the experience. My counterpart also made no move. "You can step down now." I turned and looked around the room, then tentatively stepped off the low platform, feeling somewhat unsure of my balance. Joan tripped as she (or he?) stepped forward toward me, but managed to regain her balance quickly. "Walk around a bit until you get used to the difference in weight," suggested Allan, "It may take some practice." His advice proved sound and after a little experimentation we both learned the nuances of balancing a strange body. As my confidence increased I became more aware of the strangeness of the situation. The weight of the protrusions in my chest area, held firmly in place by the twin cups of my bra, affected the way I stood. Glancing downward past the flowered silk blouse which covered my upper body, it was strange to see nylon clad legs extending from a dark skirt and terminating in stylish black pumps. The flash of red fingernails caught my eye as I raised one hand to feel a pendant earring which brushed the side of my neck when I turned my head. My hand encountered the loose curls which now framed my head, in contrast to the close cropped hair to which I was accustomed. That voice which I had only heard once before spoke to Allan and then addressed me. "It does feel a bit strange, but no doubt I'll get used to it. How about you, John?" The voice with which I answered sounded even stranger to me. "I guess I can manage all right. The high heels don't seem to bother me." "In that case perhaps we should get started. Where did you put your suitcoat?" Allan retrieved it for her from behind the door and brought Joan's brief silk velvet jacket over to me. He held it as I slipped my arms into place. Flanked by the two men and very conscious of the clicking of my heels, I walked from the lab out through the building to the parking lot. Here I was guided to the passenger door of our car, had it opened for me, and closed behind me. It was assumed without debate that Joan as the male would be in charge of the driving. CHAPTER 4 As we drove along the highway I slid over to the centre of the front seat. "You aught to keep the seatbelt done up," said Joan in that strange sounding low-pitched voice. "After all I am not a very experienced driver." "If it makes you feel more secure, O.K." Joan always sat in the right hand seat, securely belted and with shoulder harness in place. After a bit of fumbling my hands found the centre belt and snapped it around my hips. One hand crept carefully over and began softly to brush the inside of her thigh. Within moments the cloth of her trousers began to tauten. "What are you doing?" ventured Joan. "Just testing. Keep your eyes on the road. Don't be distracted." "That's not easy," she replied as I continued to make my presence felt. Strangely, I felt no reaction inside except a delight that I was able to distract Joan. I continued to do so until traffic near the city required my attention to help point out the way. In spite of her nervousness as a driver Joan managed to follow directions successfully until we came in sight of the hotel. While still a block away she pulled up to the curb and demanded exact instructions about checking in. Just as she showed that she was satisfied with me explanations by reaching for the ignition to restart the car, I leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. At the same time my hand strayed again to her thigh. For a moment she hesitated before firmly rejecting my advance. Within minutes we arrived at the hotel door and began carefully to play our new roles for an unknowing audience of hotel guests and employees. How strange it seemed to have the door held open for me as I carefully turned on the seat with knees together before stepping to the curb! I, too, had received instructions in advance. Strange too to have Joan take my arm as we entered the hotel! Stranger still to stand aside while Joan signed the register! In the midst of my concern with the niceties of playing this novel role, I realized with pleasure that Joan was insisting on a room with a double bed. After our elevator ride to the twelfth floor we were able to squeeze hands in mutual congratulations as we followed the bellhop down the long corridor to our room. More interminable seconds ticked by while he checked the room and received his tip. At long last the door closed behind him! This time it was Joan's turn to take the initiative. My head bent back to receive a light kiss, more insistent as two arms reached around to hold me close. Her tongue tried to slip between my lips as one hand held my shoulders close and the other held my buttocks. With our bodies squeezed together I was conscious of something pressing against me from her groin. I began to breathe deeper and felt strange stirrings in my breast area. Somewhat desperately I tried to push her away. "We're due at the theatre by eight o'clock and it must be a quarter to seven now," I hissed, "and we haven't eaten." "I'm not sure I want to go out," was the reply. "But I promised to take you to the theatre tonight, and I always keep my promises. Besides, you're crushing you good velvet dress. Help me to tidy up so we can have time for supper." It took several tissues to remove the signs of lipstick from Joan's mouth. With her help my hair was patted in place and my lipstick freshened. Touches of rouge, some additional mascara, and more powder were also necessary. It was a genuine thrill to look at my reflection as I turned in front of the full length mirror. How difficult to conceive that, for the weekend at least, this beautiful body belonged to me! As we left the room Joan seemed to fall naturally into her role of escort. With increasing skill she guided me again onto the elevator and through the lobby. My thrill at the mirror returned with greater force as I sensed the admiring glances of male hotel guests while we walked toward the dining room. My breasts seemed to rise and my step seemed to have more spring in spite of the spike heels, as this confirmation of my womanhood brought me greater confidence. Dinner brought another surprise. Each of us ordered a favourite dish, but Joan's first bite brought a grimace to her face. "This is awful!" she complained, "How is your Spanish rice?" My first bite also proved disappointing and we were about to protest to the waiter when she suggested I taste one of her cabbage rolls. "Why this is delicious!" I exclaimed as I discovered a never-before- experienced sensation. "Cabbage rolls never appealed to me before. Perhaps you will have to cater to my tastes and I to yours. Her, try my Spanish rice." "Mmm, delicious! Let's trade plates." With dinner over we hurried to get our coats for the short walk to the theatre. Back in the room, another hurried kiss before we could don our coats! Joan was becoming more insistent, but again I managed to turn back her advances. Another hasty repair of my lipstick was required. By now more used to our new roles, both of us seemed to be less self- conscious during our walk to the theatre. We held hands as we hurried along the sidewalk. We had barely reached our seats when the house lights dimmed for Act I of Aida. Again I was surprised by new and novel experiences. Opera had never appealed to me. All previous visits had been made under duress, solely to satisfy Joan. Somehow the colourful staging seemed brighter, while the music was more intense. Soon I was absorbed in the spectacle, scarcely conscious of Joan except for the squeezing of my hand in hers. When the intermission came, I was bubbling over with enthusiasm, remarking on what a wonderful performance the male star was giving as Radames, and how amazing was the range of the soprano lead. Joan responded without particular enthusiasm and offered to bring refreshments from the lobby. With a smile I whispered in her ear to be sure to read the sign on the washroom door before entering. Then I turned to the programme to reread the story of this opera with newly- aroused interest. Throughout the rest of the performance, I whispered comments on the plot, while Joan showed more interest in persuading me to massage her inner thigh. She was forced to keep moving my hand back as I continued to be absorbed in the drama. After the final curtain I would have rushed backstage to congratulate the performers if she had not restrained me. At her urging we left the theatre quickly. She managed to restrain her impatience when I insisted on stopping to window shop and to have a milkshake on the way back to the hotel. We touched knees and held hands as we sipped our drinks in the small restaurant. Joan's arm encircled my waist as we walked along a darker portion of the street. For a moment we stopped to enjoy a light kiss. Then we proceeded purposefully into the hotel and on to the elevator. After another light quick kiss in the corridor, Joan accepted my suggestion that she carry me over the threshold. My efforts to change for bed were hindered by her insistent embraces. Shoes, dress, slip, bra, garter belt, and stockings fell in the middle of the floor as her cooperation was enlisted with zippers and hooks. She was finally persuaded that to shed her own clothes meant releasing me for several moments. Nude except for panties, I scurried to open the suitcase, hoping to find my favourite nightgown. What a disappointment to discover only unglamorous cotton pyjamas! Joan's first attempt at love making was less than satisfying for me. Afterwards as she slept I lay awake, disturbed by a troubling feeling of unfulfilled need. An hour later I commenced again to caress her. Better satisfied but nevertheless not able to achieve the ecstasy I had expected, I was able to drop off to sleep after this renewed lovemaking. Surprisingly I awakened again at seven A.M. Desire for that elusive sexual thrill prompted me once more to reach for Joan's groin. Rousing her this third time was difficult. Her body came finally to full life, but I don't think her mind really wakened. Afterwards she remained sleeping while I rose to shower. CHAPTER 5 By eight-fifteen I had solved the problem of dressing again. Hooking a brassiere behind my back was sheer torture, but the sensuous feel of a nylon slip falling into place was more than compensation. The skirt and blouse which Joan had chosen to pack showed off a fine figure as I gazed in the mirror, but my lack of foresight in showering without a cap left me with a stringy mop of hair. No amount of effort on my part seemed to correct this basic error and I finally decided I would have to wait for Joan's help. She continued to breathe heavily so I sat down to wait. Inspiration struck when I noticed in the hotel literature that there was a beauty parlour in the basement. Nervously I phoned and was assured that a special effort would be made to fit me into the schedule if I came at once. Even more nervously I ventured alone into the hotel corridor with a scarf tied over my hair and with lipstick hastily but not too skilfully applied. My knees were almost knocking as I entered the hair salon, but fortunately the hairdresser did not seem to expect me to know the routine. I found that receiving a shampoo and set was a pleasant process. As I recovered from my nervousness I was surprised to find that I enjoyed reading a True Romance magazine while waiting for my hair to dry. When taken from the dryer to have my hair finally combed and sprayed I mentally promised myself to buy a copy so as to finish the story I had begun. By the time the operator declared me ready my confidence was fully restored. Fortunately the cashier was not aware that the signature I placed on the bill bore little resemblance to that of Joan. Rather than return to the room I telephoned from the lobby. After several rings a very sleepy voice answered grumpily. Joan insisted that she only wanted to sleep and refused to come down for breakfast. I am not sure that she was still awake when I announced that in that case I would go shopping and call her again at noon. The thought of shopping suddenly seemed exciting so I hurried through toast and coffee and rushed to a department store via the subway. Finding change in my purse was another novelty, and having men defer to me in the rush for the turnstile reminded me again of my changed estate. The lad who offered me his seat on the subway blushed as I thanked him. First stop in the store was the lingerie department. No need for me to be embarrassed when the clerk arrived to ask if she could assist. I must have been shown the entire stock of nightgowns before settling on a dainty (and expensive) blue satin with matching negligee. I managed to remain businesslike while signing the charge slip, but my mind carried a picture of myself as a vision of loveliness in the evening to come. Matching slippers were next, then innumerable dress fittings until I had chosen two, a sleeveless red crepe and a black taffeta with sheer overlay. For each dress I bought a complete set of colour-matched lingerie. How I delighted in selecting the pieces! Shoes, a purse, gloves, and a scarf were added before I realized at one o'clock that three hundred and fifty dollars of my savings had disappeared. A parcel locker in the basement was filled with my purchases. This time Joan sounded awake when she answered the phone and she quickly agreed to meet me in the store cafeteria. When she arrived out of breath about twenty minutes later, I held my face up for a light kiss of greeting. She caught on so quickly that it almost seemed perfunctory. During lunch she proposed trying to obtain tickets for the hockey game, and I agreed provided that my parcels be first returned to the hotel. I managed to refrain from laughing at our comic strip image as she strove manfully to carry the greater share of the packages, while I deposited the tokens in the subway turnstile and struggled to start the revolving doors of the hotel. She breathed a sigh of relief when we successfully arrived back in the room. The henpecked husband routine disappeared and she again became the attentive escort as we travelled to the arena. Here we had no luck at the wicket but she paid double to buy two tickets from a scalper on the street outside. "If you can splurge on a shopping spree for me," she said, "I can splurge on tickets for your favourite sport! Now, what will we do for the rest of the afternoon?" "How about looking at mink coats? You've always said that you want one." "I'd rather take you bowling," responded Joan. "As a dutiful wife I will defer to your wishes." Bowling turned out to be more difficult than I had expected. The balls seemed heavier than usual and I could not seem to make them go where I wanted. Joan beat me handily three times in a row. Her success pleased her so much that she insisted on bowling an extra line by herself after I begged off with the excuse that it was too much for me. My reply was noncommittal when she suggested that we aught to join a mixed bowling league at home. At my urging we returned again to the hotel so that I could change to my new red dress before dinner. Joan accepted my proposal that she read the newspaper in the lobby while I hurried upstairs to change. It took longer than I had planned, to shower (this time with a cap), powder, don my new lingerie, and master the back zipper of my dress. Admiring myself in the full-length mirror through each step of the process added to my pleasure, but no doubt contributed to slow progress. The last touches of makeup gave me some difficulty, but when I finally descended to meet Joan I felt I had achieved an effect worthy of a portrait artist. The high point of my day came when, after turning me around so she could examine all sides, Joan announced, "You look ravishing, my dear! I didn't realize that red looks so good on you." Our Chinese dinner brought new taste sensations. Never before had I enjoyed eggroll or chop suey. My favourite, barbecued spare ribs, tasted different but still delicious. Joan continued to be attentive, carrying of the role of gentleman host to perfection. All through the meal and as she helped me into my coat and escorted me to the door I continued to sense (or imagine) admiring glances from the men and envious looks from the women. It was not until the opening face-off at the arena that I ceased to feel myself the centre of attention. Hockey has always been for me an exciting sport, but that game could not hold my interest. I whispered explanations to Joan whenever she asked about complicated plays, but mostly I thought of my new nightdress and imagined the scene when we would retire for the night. Joan cheered loudly for the home team and grew more excited than I had ever seen her at a sporting event. She almost leaped over the boards when the winning goal was scored with only two minutes left to play. After the game I was the one anxious to hurry back to the hotel but Joan insisted on coffee. Later, in the room she almost fell asleep while waiting for me to appear in my new finery. It took effort on my part to restrain my annoyance when I had to help her undress, but I did rouse her to another bout of lovemaking. My pleasure was greater than before in spite of my resentment at having to be the aggressor. Sleep came gradually as I turned over in my mind the never-to-be-forgotten memories of my first full day of womanhood. I will not take time to describe all the thrills of Sunday, breakfast from room service, church at eleven, lunch at a drive-in, an afternoon stroll through the zoo, and dinner in a rooftop restaurant. Whatever the activity, my mind remained firmly fixed on myself and my feeling that girl watchers could not fail to be impressed. The day's greatest thrill was to be warned by Joan about being careful not to encourage unwanted attentions. On our drive back to the university, as I sadly contemplated the end of the most exciting adventure of my life, Joan surprised me by saying the weekend was such fun that she wanted to do it again. I tried not sound excited as I agreed to a repeat performance if no ill effects resulted from this one. Allan was waiting to supervise our changeback which went so smoothly that I only realized it was over when Joan stepped from the machine with the comment, "Well, that's that. Now back to the real world!" CHAPTER 6 Neither of us had much to say on the way home. I mentally relived the excitement of our experience and no doubt Joan did the same. The two days seemed to have simply flown, but the memories lingered on. Back in our own beds, and in our own bodies, we began to confide our feelings to each other. Joan confessed that she had tremendously enjoyed the sense of being in charge of things, signing the register, selecting the restaurant, and solving the problem of obtaining tickets to the hockey game, but was bored at the opera. Her choice of a double bed and her rushing me into sex the first night also counted among her satisfactions. She did not mention my leadership in the sex department from then on. At my invitation she moved to my bed and we lay in each others' arms as we continued our talk. Our lovemaking when it came was not wildly exciting, but brought a sense of togetherness never equalled before or since. We drifted off to sleep with Joan still cradled in my arms. ..... Monday morning I hated to get up and return to the daily grind. Fortunately, my lecture notes were well prepared from previous years, but there were papers to mark and students to interview. Several hours of each day that week were spent discussing the machine and its operation with Allan and describing to him the different sensations of colour and taste experienced in another body. I tried to conceal my emotional reactions but he was not surprised when I told him that we were ready for a second exchange as soon as possible. It was agreed that Joan and I would stay home for the weekend and that all day Saturday would be spent at the laboratory making tests of our altered consciousness. CHAPTER 7 Once more the three of us gathered by the machine after all students had departed on late Friday afternoon. Again the main sensation was surprise on realizing that the exchange was complete before we thought it had begun. As we left the lab Joan invited me out to supper with the explanation that she had made no preparations at home and could not expect me to be very efficient in cooking a meal. Afterwards the quiet evening at home watching television seemed very tame compared to the Friday before. I took advantage of the opportunity to lounge in that favourite nightgown and negligee which Joan had failed to pack the week before. My first real conception that responsibilities as well as pleasures went with the role of a woman came when I realized that I was expected to make the tea and prepare a bedtime snack with no help from Joan. In the morning it was up to me to make breakfast while Joan leisurely shaved and dressed. She lingered over an extra cup of coffee while I rushed to make the bed. As we left the house she casually asked if I had decided what to serve for dinner. On Saturday morning we began our laboratory testing under the exacting direction of Allan. Our very short lunch break was taken in the university cafeteria and we continued without interruption for the balance of the afternoon. I was becoming concerned about how I might cope with preparing supper when Allan announced that he had forgotten to mention that his wife would be expecting us for dinner. According to him Irene was devoting the whole day to getting ready. Whether we were invited because of Irene's curiosity, or whether Allan had insisted because he wanted to prepare her for future participation in our experiments I do not know, but certainly I felt relieved at having the responsibility for that meal taken off my shoulders. Even though we had spent a weekend and a day of interchange, I nevertheless felt embarrassed at meeting Allan's wife. I had not known her very well although Joan had served with her on a faculty wives' committee. If Irene thought the situation unusual, she carried it off very well by greeting me with a peck on the cheek and Joan with a handshake. Before I could get comfortably seated in the living room with the glass of wine which Allan offered, Joan reminded me to offer my services in the kitchen. I thought she looked quite smug relaxing with Allan as I hurried out of the room. With my lack of experience the only help I could supply was to carry food to the dining room table at Irene's request. She seemed pleased with my willingness to assist and commented that I must be a fast learner because most men would not know enough to offer. Her roast veal dinner was delicious but I really did not do it justice. I was remembering my wife's complaint about her weight on the previous Monday. Joan ate heartily, which seemed to please our hostess very much. After coffee the men repaired again to the living room while I helped clear the table, load the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen. Irene took advantage of the opportunity to question me about my reactions and those of Joan. Her choice of words surprised me when she said she admired Joan both for her courage and for being a beautiful woman. Such a compliment coming from a woman of Irene's own blonde beauty left me at a loss for words. I could only mumble, "You're not half bad yourself, but I could probably appreciate you more from my other point of view." She laughed and added, "Maybe you have something there." The remainder of the evening was spent playing cards. Our skills at Bridge did not seem to be affected though Joan and Irene as partners won the two rubbers. Conversation took precedence over card playing however and it was after midnight before Irene could serve her lunch. Again I held my appetite in check and took only one small sandwich with my tea. As we drove home Joan commented on how much she had enjoyed the evening. She was particularly pleased about being able to talk to a man without being inhibited by sex roles. I was not aware of any particular difference in my conversations with Irene though we had talked of things which are not normally part of male conversations, her curiosity about whether I had experienced menstruation for example. I was unable to answer Joan's question about whether Irene would consent to participate in the experiment when the time came. Sunday service at our own church was uneventful but we had to stick close together to prompt each other about names and faces. Each of us found it necessary to respond to greetings from other members of the congregation without using names. Fortunately for our stomachs at lunchtime, Joan had directed my efforts at preparing a casserole which cooked in the oven while we were out. Thus my first home cooked meal was a success, even if this was not entirely due to my own efforts. Joan agreed again to take me out to eat at supper time, but only because she wanted me to accompany her on an afternoon drive to the African lion safari. She had invited Allan who felt he should not leave Irene home alone on a Sunday afternoon. We made a typical married foursome with two men in the front seat and Irene with me in the back. She came along as well to the laboratory to watch while we again made our switch. No plans were made for the following weekend because I had to attend a seminar and present a paper on the Saturday afternoon. CHAPTER 8 Dinner table conversation during the following week began to turn on the subject of how little men know about the real work of a housewife. The tenor of Joan's thought became clearer when she finally suggested that our next exchange should be for a whole week. To my objections, based on her inability to carry out my teaching duties, she declared her willingness to memorize my lecture notes, and reminded me as well that she possessed a Master's degree. Furthermore, with Allan at hand during the day to supply advice and information, she was sure she would overcome any difficulty. It must have been Joan who finally suggested that we have an outsider arbitrate between our diametrically opposed positions. She agreed to abide absolutely by Allan's decision provided I would give the same response. To my utter and complete surprise, Allan agreed with Joan. Having found in Joan's favour he was more or less obligated to agree to my plea that Irene not be told. If forced to go along with Joan's wishes, I wanted at least to play my part without any outside coaching. Joan began immediately to study my lecture notes and by the time I returned on Saturday night declared herself ready to handle the following week's classes. To prove her readiness she insisted on reciting Monday's lectures to me while I sat reading the paper. As I watched the television news she informed me that the arrangements were complete for us to meet Allan at the lab on Sunday after supper. "We could have gone earlier but I decided to let you off from preparing Sunday dinner and washing the dishes," she joked. ..... Back at home, Sunday evening was spent with me receiving instructions from Joan about how to manage the house. I was surprised at the complexity of the washing machine and asked for a written explanation of the various cycles. She gathered the instruction books for all the appliances onto a corner of the kitchen counter along with the cookbooks and drafted a list of chores to be carried out each day. I wore my blue satin gown and negligee while we watched the news and had our bedtime snack. Joan rewarded me with her best loving to date. I drifted off to sleep still glowing from shared pleasure. The alarm woke us at seven and I rushed to prepare breakfast while Joan shaved. If she was nervous when she left to take over my day's work it did not show. I wished her good luck as she kissed me good bye. For me the household routine that week was relaxing, except when I had to meet acquaintances of Joan who were strangers to me. Monday was quiet, with no calls except the postman and a vacuum cleaner salesman. I got through the washing with no serious difficulty and even managed a walk to the corner store after lunch. Along the way I smiled tentatively at each passerby just in case I was expected to know them. "Oh, Joan!" called the woman four doors down the street who was weeding a flower bed. "I'm having the girls over for coffee tomorrow. Be sure to come!" "I'll try," I replied and hurried to avoid further conversation. I would have to find out her name before visiting. The super which I prepared for Joan was reasonably successful though the potatoes were not ready when the stuffed pork chops came out of the oven. We spent the evening together going over her experiences of the day. Her difficulties about identifying persons who knew me but were strangers to her had not been great. She had previously been a student at the same university, and of course Allan was close at hand for consultation most of the day. All in all Joan was quite proud of her accomplishments on her first day as a university professor. After a pleasant evening I was rewarded by an attentive lover who roused me to new heights of passion. Tuesday morning, after seeing Joan off to work, I spent some time ironing before setting out for the coffee party. Joan had advised that coffee parties on the street traditionally start about eleven A.M. and that one enters by the kitchen door. The hostess I could now call by her first name, Gladys, but I listened carefully for confirmation before calling anyone else by a name from the list which I had memorized. It was a friendly group of women with whom I spent a pleasant hour. As I was leaving someone remarked on how little I had had to say. Evidently Joan was normally a voluble participant in the conversation of the group. Shortly after lunch I answered the doorbell to find Irene standing on the step. "Oh, Joan," she began, "I want to talk to you in the worst way. May I come in?" Once seated in the living room she launched at once into questioning me about my (or rather Joan's) experience with Allan's machine. Evidently she had been lunching at the university with him when he had suggested to her that they should try an exchange themselves that very weekend. "It takes a little getting used to, but it is not difficult or frightening," I reassured her. "No doubt you will enjoy the experience." As she continued her questioning I tried to relay to her the feelings which Joan had expressed to me. Evidently I must have been successful both in reassuring her and in concealing my real identity because her words as she was leaving an hour later were, "Thank you so much, Joan, for talking to me. I've always known it would come to this since he succeeded with the machine, but even so I wasn't ready for it. You've helped me a lot." As the week progressed it became clear to both Joan and myself that we were thoroughly enjoying our adventure. She reported enthusiastically to me each evening about her experiences, but required less advice with each passing day. My life was proceeding at a leisurely pace with household chores usually completed in the morning, leaving time in the afternoon to visit the library, swim at the Y.W.C.A., chat over the fence with a neighbour, or relax on the chesterfield with a book. On Thursday evening we agreed to continue our exchange through the weekend. Friday morning I drove Joan to work and in the afternoon, after a visit to the hairdresser, returned to Allan's lab where he and Joan were rechecking the machine in anticipation of Irene's arrival. Joan and I stayed to watch as Allan and his nervous wife experienced that feeling of disorientation and lack of body control which evidently was a standard accompaniment of the initial exchange between persons of quite different body mass. Shortly thereafter we waved good-bye from the parking lot as they drove off for a weekend together such as we had spent three weeks earlier. When the four of us met at the lab Sunday evening for the reverse change, Irene's nervousness was gone and she talked enthusiastically about their adventure together. Allan was quieter but equally pleased. For myself I felt that the week had simply flown and I was sorry to have it come to an end. At work during the next month I would often think back nostalgically to my days as a housewife. CHAPTER 9 It was Irene who proposed that both couples should switch again the following Friday to attend the graduation dance. Thus it was Irene and Joan who visited the hairdresser that afternoon and dressed for the party after supper, but Allan and myself who were escorted into the ball after a stop at the laboratory on the way. I was asked to dance by the dean and by all the male members of my department, while Joan danced with their wives or dates. Most of my partners were either friendly and polite or stiffly formal, but a couple were overly familiar. These I found difficult to cope with. When it was Irene's turn to dance with me I was surprised to have her comment on how well I had handled myself. "Poor Allan is raging at that fellow Robert even though I warned him about the beast," she added. Dancing with Irene was a pleasant interlude in the evening because as fellow conspirators we could relax with each other as with our spouses. It felt reassuring when she drew me close as we waltzed together a second time. Afterwards Allan and Irene set off for the city by car while I drove Joan and myself back home. Joan had misjudged her husband's capacity for liquor and was in no condition to drive, or anything else, as I found when I was forced to undress her for bed. The telephone wakened me from a deep sleep about three in the morning. "Mr. Evans, please." "This is John Evans," I answered in Joan's voice. "This is Sergeant Arthur Burns of the Smithville detachment of the state police. There has been an accident on the highway involving Mr. and Mrs. Allan Hartley. They have been taken to hospital. Mr. Hartley asked that you be called." "Are they seriously injured, sergeant?" "I really don't know, Ma'am. Mr. Hartley was able to walk to the ambulance though he seemed to be in shock. Mrs. Hartley has at least broken bones and was taken on a stretcher." "We'll come at once. Thank you, Sergeant." Unable to rouse Joan I hurriedly dressed in her slacks and sweater, grabbed her purse, and set out for the hospital in Smithville, willing myself not to think as I drove the thirty miles. At the hospital I was guided to an intensive care unit where I found Irene, dressed in hospital garb and with one arm in a sling, seated beside her own supine body which lay on a hospital cot. A nurse stood at the bedside. Irene stood up as I entered and I rushed to put my arms around her. "How is Allan?" I whispered. "Oh, John," she answered, "It's awful. They are getting him ready for surgery right now." Just then the nurse came over. "She's conscious again and she wants to see you." Irene and I went over to the bed and bent our heads close to hear a whispered message from Allan directed to me. "Please look after Irene for me. If I don't make it, it will be very hard for her." "I'll do my best. Don't you worry." "Promise, now." "Of course I promise." The eyes closed again and the expression on the face seemed to relax. Irene and I continued to stand beside the bed until an orderly arrived to wheel Allan off to the operating room. The nurse led Irene back to a men's ward and insisted that she lie down before administering a needle. I remained quietly beside her bed as she drifted into a drug induced sleep.Two hours later I was still sitting there when the doctor arrived to report that 'Mrs. Hartley' had died on the operating table. CHAPTER 10 The next few days remain a blur to me. Late that first morning Joan and I went to the lab to switch back without the watchful supervision of Allan. In our own identities we made tentative funeral arrangements and later in the day took Irene home to our house. For the next two weeks one of us was always at her side as she experienced the trauma of attending her own funeral and then was forced to assume the role and responsibilities of Allan. Together she and I found Allan's lecture notes and together we studied them as she began to carry out his duties. For the first few days we conferred before and after each of her lecture periods while she gradually gained confidence in her ability to impersonate her late husband. She assumed more and more of the responsibility as she became familiar with the work and our conferences diminished, first to once daily, and then to once weekly, as she picked up the pieces of her new life. For the first while Joan and I were careful to include her in all our social affairs, but gradually she became more independent in this as well. Over a period of six months no further use was made of Allan's machine, which stood undisturbed in its place in the lab. Finally I yielded to Joan's entreaties and we began again to make short exchanges of not longer than a day or so at a time on weekends or holidays. No mention of this was made to Irene and I kept my own identity whenever her presence was expected. This routine would probably have continued indefinitely were it not for the lecture I was scheduled to give in England. The invitation had been accepted before Allan's death, but the time spent with Irene had prevented me from properly preparing my tentative notes. I was bemoaning this on the Friday evening prior to my scheduled departure as I refused Joan's request for a weekend exchange. I planned to use those two days working on my speech. These plans were disrupted by the unexpected arrival of my sister who called from the airport with the news that she had forty-eight hours between planes. By the time she left late Sunday afternoon, I was desperate enough to accept Joan's proposed solution. She would carry out my duties at the university while I remained at home to complete the speech. We made the exchange at eight o'clock on Sunday evening. Joan agreed to keep the arrangement secret from Irene. By Wednesday evening when the speech was complete Joan was in no hurry to switch roles. "I'll have the last two pages typed tomorrow while you memorize the beginning," she suggested. I was quick to accept this generous offer even though I already knew the material thoroughly. The prospect of spending a relaxed quiet day before the strain of the trip overseas and the tension of presenting my paper at the conference was very appealing. Thursday morning I rose bright and early to prepare breakfast for Joan. As soon as she drove out of the driveway it was back to bed for a leisurely two hours with a detective story. Tidying the house and a bit of vacuuming took less than an hour and there was time for a leisurely stroll to the neighbourhood groceteria before lunch. After lunch came a delicious shower and the delight of dressing up for a trip to the airport to collect the tickets. Somehow I never seemed to tire of primping for an outing however commonplace. The choice between the yellow seersucker and the red crepe was finally resolved in favour of the yellow dress, and my decision was rewarded by the discreet admiring glances of several male passengers waiting in the lobby. As the afternoon sped by I regretted the passage of time which brought closer and closer the resumption of my role as professor and breadwinner. CHAPTER 11 In an effort to thank Joan for her thoughtfulness I started early to prepare a supper of her favourite foods. My apparent success in having everything just right did not seem to be noticed. She greeted me at the door with a perfunctory kiss and seemed lost in the newspaper until called to the table. So quiet was she during the meal that I was forced to ask, "What do you think of the veal cutlets that I cooked especially for you?" She acknowledged that she was pleased and then relapsed into further silence. After the meal she returned to the newspaper while I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. By a quarter to seven the kitchen was cleared up and I ventured somewhat reluctantly, "I guess it's time to make the change." Joan was slow to answer. "You know," she returned, "I've been thinking." She paused again, then continued in a stronger tone, "I've decided that I am going to London to deliver that speech." "You can't! You don't know it! Besides, you don't know Johnson who is in charge of the program." "I've been studying the speech between classes and I can memorize it on the plane. Johnson I can recognize from his picture. You have only met him once yourself." "It's impossible and you know it!" I retorted. "It's not impossible, and my mind is made up," she restated firmly. "You're not considering my professional reputation." "Your professional reputation is just as important to me as it is to you. And it hasn't suffered any by me giving your lectures at the university." The argument continued, with my voice rising, while Joan remained calm but firm in her determination to have her way. As I became more and more frustrated, tears started to flow. Hysterically I began to beat on Joan's chest with my clenched fists shouting, "I hate you! I hate you!" "Well," announced Joan threateningly, "I understand there is only one way to deal with an hysterical wife, and you are certainly asking for it." Before I realized what was happening she had caught me by the arm and twisted me over her knee. Her right hand came down solidly on my rump. "Don't you dare!" I screamed, trying to kick myself free, but she caught my legs between hers and held me firmly in position. "Stop this nonsense at once," she ordered. "I won't. You can't make me!" Once more the hand descended and my rump stung again. "You let me go!" I shouted. The blows continued, each more painful than the last. In a few moments my screams had changed to sobs. I could no longer struggle, but lay there locked in Joan's grip while she continued the spanking. At last she paused, "Have you had enough?" "Yes," I sobbed. "Then say, 'Please stop, Joan'." I continued to sob. The hand came down again. "Please stop, Joan," I whispered. "Louder," she insisted. "Please stop, Joan," I pleaded in a somewhat firmer voice. Her grip on me relaxed. "Now you get into the bedroom and see that my grip is packed," she ordered. "Yes, Joan," I answered meekly and limped away to do her bidding. I did not return to the living room but answered with, "Yes, Joan," whenever she called an instruction about the number of socks and handkerchiefs to be packed or her choice of ties. The packing completed, I slipped into the bathroom to rinse away my tears, and back to the bedroom to don a nightgown and crawl into bed. My bottom continued to smart and my handkerchief was soaking again from tears by the time I fell asleep facing the wall. Sometime later I came awake as I found myself being rolled away from the wall and felt Joan's hands running along my thighs. I said nothing as her hands continued to explore along the length of my body, touching my breasts to confirm their arousal and returning to sense the beginning of the flow of lubrication between my legs. At the first sign of readiness my legs were forcefully spread apart and she placed herself in position. No word was said as she thrust forward into me. The strength of her erection was exceptional and in spite of myself I could feel my body rise in response with animal vigour. Her climax came slowly. The physical sensation in my body rose in intensity until at last we seemed to explode in a burst of mutual ecstasy. We lay together silently as the passion receded. Right then I felt that if she were to utter a word of love I would be her slave forever. As she slowly withdrew, instead of that coveted word of endearment she remarked, "You know fighting with a wife certainly does make you horny, doesn't it?" "I guess you are right," I answered in a small voice, but something inside me seemed to shrivel up at this vulgar remark. In a few minutes her breathing became deeper as she drifted into sleep, but I lay awake wondering if I actually hated myself, or hated Joan, or hated Joan as myself. When the alarm rang an hour earlier than usual I pretended not to hear. Joan rose alone, got her own breakfast, and phoned for a taxi to take her to the airport. She did not pause at the side of the bed to touch my lips with a kiss. CHAPTER 12 Two hours after Joan's departure I finally climbed out of bed still feeling sorry for myself. I dressed in slacks and sweater and breakfasted on cereal and milk without taking much interest in either clothes or food. Past experience as John indicated that my vile humour should be alleviated by physical activity. However, a half hour spent trying to mow the lawn resulted in no improvement. I gave that up and called a boy from down the street to finish. It occurred to me that perhaps my time might well be spent in preparing fresh lecture notes for use in the next term. It was necessary to wash off the garden grime but I did not change or add lipstick before jumping in the car. A nagging thought kept recurring that perhaps Joan would not permit me to resume my proper role, but I resolutely suppressed that idea and concentrated on what I would say to Miss Ellsworth to explain why I wanted to take books home. Perhaps it would be better to stay at the office and work in my normal fashion! I rejected that idea with the thought that it might attract comment. I decided simply to take the books, saying I needed to study for an examination. My carefully contrived lies proved redundant when I discovered that the office was locked and Miss Ellsworth was nowhere in sight. Frustrated, I was about to depart when Irene came down the hall. "You don't look very happy," she commented on recognizing me. "I almost thought you were one of our students." "I guess I'm depressed because John went away without me. Why is Miss Ellsworth not here?" "Didn't John tell you? He let her take holidays while he is gone." "I guess there are a lot of things he doesn't tell me," I complained. "You really are down in the dumps! You sound as if you need Irene's patented cure for depression." "What's that?" I demanded. "Well," she explained, "It starts with a trip downtown to the beauty parlour. Then there is a shopping spree to buy a new outfit, and finally you find an excuse to get all dressed up and display your new self. It never failed for Irene. Why don't you give it a try? I'll help by inviting you to a home-cooked dinner at my house. I haven't forgotten how to cook but I need to keep in practice." Irene pooh-poohed my objections to the propriety of going to her home for supper and somewhat reluctantly I agreed to give her idea a try. I phoned the salon which she recommended and learned that an appointment was possible but not till late afternoon. "That's all right," said Irene, "You can do your shopping first and change right at the salon. While you are there I'll be cooking the dinner. I'll have to get everything ready after my last lecture." My spirits started to rise even as I drove home to change. This time I showered quickly and almost whistled as I chose a ladylike skirt and blouse and donned stockings for my shopping spree. I took time to comb my hair neatly and apply lipstick. My decision to ride downtown by taxi added a delicious feeling of extravagance. Irene was certainly right about the morale-boosting effect of shopping for clothes. By the time of my appointment at the beauty salon I had selected a complete new outfit, Long black crepe skirt, long-sleeved black satin blouse with metallic silver trim, long black slip, panties and bra, silver dancing slippers, silver necklace, earrings, and bracelet, silver evening bag, and black stole. There was just time for a muffin and glass of milk in the store cafeteria before my ordeal in the salon. Ordeal? Perhaps, but to me it was tremendously exhilarating to receive the full treatment, steam bath, massage, facial, depilation, manicure, pedicure, and hair set. I donned my new finery before the maestro of the establishment put the finishing touches on my face and added my new silver combs to an upswept hairdo. Privately I agreed with him when he paraded me before a full length mirror and declared me his most ravishing creation ever. My shopping clothes were stored in a locker and 'Madame, la Ravissante' was carefully installed in a taxi for the ride to Irene's. Even the cab driver was impressed, if his rush to open the door and to assist me both into and later out of the car is any criterion. I rewarded him with a smile and a larger than usual tip. Irene's words of greeting at the door were, "My! You are lovely! Let me look at you!" "You were absolutely right!" I exclaimed after she had held both my hands at arm's length while she inspected my transformation, then drew me closer for a quick peck on the cheek. "My morale is now at an all- time high!" "It will be even higher when you have tasted the dinner I've prepared," she added. "Come directly to the dining room while I hang up your stole. Everything is just ready." Dinner was delicious. From the first taste of wine through the roast beef to the jellied dessert, Irene had managed to achieve perfection. My help was refused for clearing the table. Instead Irene poured me another glass of wine while she again covered her suit with an apron and loaded the automatic dishwasher. Afterwards we repaired to the living room to listen to stereo records. Irene confessed to me that she had adjusted to the loss of Allan. She still missed him but was carrying on as she felt he would want her to. I complimented her on her mastery of the role of a gracious host. After a third goblet of wine I accepted her invitation to dance. At first we danced quite formally, but as Irene's compliments combined with more wine to dampen my inhibitions, I allowed her to hold me closer. For a long time we danced cheek to cheek, stopping only for more sips of wine while the record changed. I cannot clearly remember how we came to lie on the chesterfield, but it must have been a natural sequel to the excitement I felt at the closeness of our bodies and the caress of Irene's hand on my back. My excitement rose as she graduated from light kisses to deeper probings with her tongue. Her hands passed over my breasts and down over my thighs while my protests became weaker and weaker. My will to resist had completely disappeared by the time she opened the zipper of my new skirt and deftly slipped it over my hips. When she had raised my slip and lowered my panties the result was no longer in doubt. I had given up my wife's honour and Irene had seduced the wife of her husband's best friend. I must have drifted off to sleep on the chesterfield because my next memory is of wakening in a strange bedroom. Irene was bending over me and saying, "There, you will be more comfortable wearing that nightgown." "Irene, I ventured, "This isn't right. You shouldn't have seduced me." "Perhaps not, but I couldn't resist the temptation. You are the loveliest woman I know." "That doesn't make it right. There is a moral obligation on a man to protect a woman from herself." "I am glad you need protection from me. I should be repentant but I am not. Furthermore I intend to keep you so happy that you will be content to stay with me all the while that John is away." "Another thing," she added. "Please call me Allan. I prefer it, and really you know, the old Irene no longer exists." "I guess I can learn to do that ------ Allan." "There, that was easy! Try it again." "Allan," I repeated. She reached over to kiss me again and once more her hand stroked my breast and continued down over my body. Before long she had completely aroused me anew. Soon I welcomed her body back into mine. This time I felt her climax as well as my own, and experienced a new sense of contentment as our passions subsided while she continued to whisper words of love in my ear. CHAPTER 13 My awakening next morning was gradual. At first I seemed to be lost in a dream world in a strange room. Gradually the happenings of the previous night flowed back into my mind. Sitting up on the bed I hugged my knees as warm memories of our lovemaking reminded me of that divine pleasure. Allan, no longer Irene, was not in sight. An aroma of fresh coffee suggested that he must be preparing breakfast in the kitchen. On the chair beside the bed lay a matchmate for the nightgown I was wearing, a white satin negligee, very bridelike, with a pair of matching slippers nearby. I donned the luxurious finery and hurried into the bathroom. Here, beside the sink, were carefully laid out shower hat, dusting powder, toothbrush, comb, and lipstick. Allan had thought of everything. Freshly bathed and again arrayed in slippers and negligee, I tiptoed down the hall to the kitchen, slipped up behind Allan, and slid my hands over his eyes. "Guess who!" "That's hard to answer. What lovely lady would be prowling around my home at this hour? Let's pretend it's Irene." Allen turned and embraced me tenderly. Then, holding me at arm's length he continued, "You look lovely in that outfit. It's one that Irene's husband chose." "It seems strange to be wearing another woman's clothes." "I can assure you that that woman approves. She also approves of the ring you are wearing." He held up my left hand to draw my attention to the wedding band which had, without my knowledge, replaced that of Joan. Before I could reply he drew a diamond engagement ring from his pocket and slid it on my finger beside the other ring. "There! That makes the complete set. Now for this week you will just have to pretend that you are Mrs. Allan Hartley, and act accordingly. The first thing you will have to do is pack a suitcase because we are going to fly to Niagara Falls." ..... The next six days were like a honeymoon. Allan kept me so busy and paid me so much attention that I had no time to think about the way in which I was betraying my marriage. On the evening before our return he took me dining at an exclusive nightclub. Afterward, on the dance floor, he gently suggested that I should leave John and take up a new life as Mrs. Hartley. My protest was half-hearted but sincere. "How could we establish a relationship of trust when we have started out by betraying my marriage vows? I could not be sure you were not interested in another woman, and you could never be sure that I wouldn't be seduced by another fast- talker like yourself." Allan's reply was a total shock to me. "I would never have attempted to seduce you were it not that John took our secretary, Mary Ellsworth, to England with him. I felt sure that your marriage to John was already destroyed." Stunned by this revelation, I asked to be taken back to the hotel at once. There, seated on the bed, I sobbed out to Allan how Joan had replaced me for the trip to London and my fear that she might refuse to give up her present control of the situation. "Oh, Allan! Things are so mixed up, I don't think we will ever get straightened around." "John, or Joan! I prefer to call you Joan. I can't predict how things will come out, but for my part I would like to keep you for myself. Furthermore the Joan I want is the one who has been with me all this week. It is obvious though that you are not ready to make any decision right now." With Allan's comforting arms around me we lay back on the bed, saying nothing, but consoling each other by our very closeness. .... The next day, dressed again in Joan's clothes, I met my spouse at the airport. Our greeting gave an impression of warmth which I certainly did not feel. Driving home, Jo