The Great Shift - Summer's End free porn video

The Great Shift - Summer's End By Limbo's Mistress "Dad, I'm home," a voice from the front of the house called right before I heard the slam of the front door. I looked up from the papers spread out on the kitchen counter to see my daughter, Carrie, walk into the room. She stopped at the table and slipped the backpack off her shoulders, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs. Then she walked over to the opposite side of the counter and leaned against it, grabbing an apple from the bowl sitting nearby. "How was your first day of school?" I asked. She shrugged, frowning a bit. "Okay, I guess. A lot weirder than I was prepared for." I nodded, gathering and re-folding the pages I'd been reading. Once they were back inside the large envelope, I leaned forward to look up at her. "You knew it wasn't going to be the same as last year, Pumpkin. Considering ..." She took a bite of the apple, chewing slowly before swallowing. "Considering that when school ended last year, I was fifteen with long blonde hair and now I'm a brunette in her mid-forties?" I winced as the hint of anger in her voice. It had been a few weeks since she'd last expressed her frustration at her situation. At least, in front of me. I knew that sending people, kids really, back to school this soon was a mistake. Education was hard enough without also having to deal with your world, and nearly everyone else's, turned upside down by the Great Shift. I reached out and placed my hand on top of Carrie's. It wasn't hard to sympathize with her. Not just because I still found it a little difficult to remember that the woman standing across from me wasn't my wife anymore. The mysterious phenomenon had left my precious little girl trapped in the body of her much-older mother. I could understand her frustration because that same event had changed me from a forty-eight-year-old man with the beginning of a beer belly and a slightly receding hairline into a twenty-year old redheaded knockout. We had been on our annual summer vacation to Myrtle Beach when the world changed in an instant. My wife, Melanie, my sister, Lydia, my parents, and myself had been on the back deck, enjoying the ocean view when we all suddenly blacked out. My son, Joseph, had taken Carrie with him to hang out at the local boardwalk. Accompanying them had been a couple of the kids from the house next door; a ten-year old boy named Billy Beauregard, and his sister, Kara. When we awakened, we discovered that Joseph had been one of the seven percent of the world's population who hadn't swapped bodies with someone else. Melanie found herself trapped in Billy's young, overweight body. Kara had been transported into Carrie's. And I discovered I was now Kara. After the initial shock of being displaced lessened, the four of us rushed back to the house to find that things were just as bad there. My father, Roger, a rather conservative retired doctor had swapped bodies with Lydia. Lydia was a liberal artist type with dozens of piercings and lots of tattoos. They had been at each other's throats when the Shift happened. My mother was now inside my former body while Kara and Billy's grandmother, Constance, had taken hers. All of those changes weren't nearly as heartbreaking as finding out what had become of Billy. Apparently he had switched with Constance, who had been very elderly and in poor health. We surmised that the shock of finding himself suddenly in the body of his grandmother had caused a stroke, killing him instantly. Over the next few days we, along with the rest of the world, learned about the Great Shift and its results. Unlike many of the affected, we were lucky in the fact that we had all swapped with someone that we knew. That made it much easier for us to get our new identities connected with our previous ones in the government's database. A little over a week after the Great Shift, we decided as a group to return to our homes. My parents, with my dad in Lydia's body and my mom in mine, headed back to their house in Michigan. Constance decided to accompany them. Despite the drastic changes they were still getting acclimated to, it seemed as if the trio were looking forward to seeing what the future held. After all, all three of them had ended up in younger bodies than they'd had before. Lydia, resentful of swapping with our father, had snuck off in the middle of the night. She left a note behind that indicated she never wanted to see any of us again. A couple of weeks after, my father found out she'd used his credit cards to withdraw several thousand dollars in cash and make a large purchase at Costco. God only knew where she was now. My family returned to our home in Richmond, Virginia. I tried to convince Kara to come with us, seeing as her own family was gone. In addition to the loss of her brother, she'd been informed that her parents had swapped bodies with a couple of infants who'd been on their flight. The result of being forced into a body with an undeveloped brain had left them in an infantile state. Also, I had become friends with the girl whose body I now wore and didn't think it was a good idea for her, in Carrie's teenaged body, wandering around on her own. She declined my offer, but promised to visit someday soon. When we were saying out last goodbyes, she'd given me a little kiss before walking away. The gesture still puzzled and excited me several weeks later. When we returned home, we tried to make the most of the new changes and try to get back to some semblance of normal. It took Joseph a while to stop calling to Carrie "Mom" and even longer to stop staring at my body. Right before the Shift, he had offered to show Kara around as a way to make an impression on the pretty girl next door. Now that I was that pretty girl, he was doing his best to think of her like his former sister. Needless to say, we were all having issues dealing. My wife most of all. Before the Great Shift, Melanie had been an attractive mother of two who had still managed to keep most of the girlish figure she'd had in college. At the time, I would have said that, while she was concerned with looking her best and keeping in shape, she was not a vain person. That all changed when she swapped bodies with Billy Beauregard. I'm sure it was a nightmare for her to be stuck as a little boy still waiting to go through puberty. What made it worse, and didn't help her attitude about the whole thing, was that Billy was fat because of a glandular issue. "It's genetic," Kara had told us a couple of days after the Shift. "His body just converts pretty much everything he eats into fat. We have a cousin with the same problem. She weighed over three hundred pounds when she graduated high school." Since that particular bombshell dropped, Melanie had been angry and frustrated. She continually lashed out at Carrie whenever she caught her daughter eating anything that was remotely unhealthy. She also said spite-filled, hateful things to me that were obviously born out of incredible jealousy over the body I'd acquired. "That should be me," she said one evening as I emerged from the master bathroom and was wrapping a towel around my curvaceous new form. She was sitting on the edge of the bed we'd once shared. "I should have gotten Kara's body, and you should be the one trapped in Piggy Boy." Having my wife's crisp, proper British accent coming out of Billy's mouth still made me a pause. In her old voice, it had been drop dead sexy. From the prepubescent man-child she was now, it was just creepy. "It's not like we had a choice of who we swapped with, hon," I said, quickly throwing on a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt. I didn't bother with any underwear in my haste. I had already learned that Melanie seemed to be less hostile if she couldn't actually see how developed my new body was. "Of course we didn't." She threw her hands in the air. "Nobody's fault but God's. Right, Douglas? The majority of the human race got shaken up by the Almighty Moron upstairs and we all have to just be happy with where we ended up?" "Mels," I said, trying to stop her tirade before it went further. "We're all dealing with ..." "Are we? All of us? I mean, sure, you seem to be adjusting just fine to looking like a big breasted slut." She gestured at my drab attire. "Try any of my things yet, Douglas? Maybe put on one of my lace nighties so you can drool over yourself in the mirror!" She hopped off the bed and walked over to me, looking up with fury in her beady little eyes. "I think you managed to swap bodies with that little, red-headed whore because you were lusting after her right before it happened." "What are you talking about?" I asked her, running my fingers through the still damp copper-colored strands to keep them from tangling. My first instinct after returning to Richmond was to go to the nearest barber and have them chop the shoulder-length hair as short as possible. However, every time I prepared myself to make the trip, a quick glance in the mirror stopped me. Guess maybe Melanie wasn't the only one with a vain streak. She raised her arm, pointing her finger at me, and stabbing it in my direction. If it'd been a dagger, I would have leaked blood from a dozen wounds. "Don't think I didn't see you through the window. Pretending to be busy unloading the car while you were really busy peeping down the little tramp's bikini top." I shook my head, forcing a tired sigh through my lips. While it was true that I'd given Kara the appreciating examination us older men tend to do when a scantily-dressed young woman is around, I still believed that the results of the Shift had been random. "Look, Mels, I'm sorry this happened. To you. To us." I sighed again. "You think it's easy for Carrie? She's lost over thirty years of her life? She was robbed of a chance to grow up and mature naturally." As I spoke, my own anger began to rise in opposition of Melanie's. "She's only fifteen years old and is going to die of goddamn old age decades before her time. Just thinking about that breaks my heart." I picked up the towel from the floor, wrapping it around my still-damp hair. "And let's not forget Joseph. Sure, he might still have his own body, but everyone he used to know is now someone else. All of his pals are now either female or vastly different ages. His own family isn't themselves anymore. That can't be easy on a seventeen-year-old." By this point, all the frustration of dealing with both the effects of the Shift and my wife's attitude had reached a boiling point. I'd done everything I could to try to weather this storm that had come into our lives. However, a tipping point, one that had started the day my wife realized what her future life was going to be like, had been reached. "I bet you haven't thought about any of that. Have you, Melanie?" I pointed at the closed door. "Your children are scared and worried and uncertain about how they are going to deal with all these changes, but all you can think about is yourself. About how the Shift has affected you!" Before she could respond, I threw the towel into the hamper next to the walk-in closet and stomped off out of the room. Even though I wasn't the least bit tired, I headed straight down the hall to the room that had been my quarters since we'd returned and slammed the door closed behind me. That was one of the little changes which had affected us almost as much as the Shift itself. The day we got back from the beach, Joseph announced that he was going to move into the small apartment over the garage. I had renovated it myself the previous year in the hopes that we might rent it out for a little extra cash. However, since all his mother and I did over the past week was fight, I could understand his desire to not be in the house. Melanie had refused to sleep in the same bed with me from the very beginning. I couldn't tell if it was her hatred of her new body. Or her hatred of mine. Regardless, she refused to share a bed or allow anyone to see her unclothed. Of course, the moment we'd walked in the front door, she announced that she was taking the master bedroom for herself alone. Carrie kept her old bedroom. Of course, we had moved most of Melanie's old clothes into her much-smaller closet. She also said the bed felt smaller now, but she hadn't been but an inch or two shorter than her mother when the Shift happened. I think it was all in her head. I took Joseph's room. With his permission, one of the first things I did was take down the posters of the scantily-clad models busy straddling motorcycles or posing seductively next to high-end foreign sports cars only a handful of people in the world could afford. Before the Shift, I had given his choice d?cor many an appreciative look. However, now that I saw an equally beautiful girl that could rival those on models every time I looked in the mirror, the suggestive nature of them bothered me. "Were many of your friends there today?" I asked Carrie. "A couple. Janice Meadows was a Sevener," she said, using the new slang for those lucky enough to have kept their own bodies. "She said the rest of her family got all mixed up. Her mom is now her baby brother, her dad is her mom, and her baby brother ended up in her dad. They had to take him to one of the care facilities so he doesn't hurt anyone until he can grow up some." I nodded. I couldn't begin to imagine the physical damage a one-year- old in the body of a burly man like Michael Rogers could cause. "Oh my god," she said, shaking her head as a rarely-seen grin appeared. "And you know Marcia Daniels?" I crinkled up my nose on thought. "Was she the girl who poured paint on you for talking to her boyfriend." She nodded. "She swapped with her next door neighbor. Now she's a smelly old man with false teeth." I sighed. Even though I knew the torture the Daniels girl had put Carrie though the past two years of high school, I didn't want her to find amusement at anyone's misfortune. She could have ended up in Billy as easily as the rest of us. "Carrie, that's not nice." She stopped smiling, opened her mouth to counter, then nodded. "Yes, Daddy." Then she looked around slowly. "Uh, where is everyone?" "Joseph's not home from school yet," I said, turning around to open the fridge and look for something to heat up for dinner. Melanie had always been the one to get our meals ready since I normally didn't leave the office until well after seven. Since she had decided to attempt extreme dieting to lose some weight, making sure the rest of us got enough calories to survive had fallen to me. "What about ... mom?" Her voice was a cautious whisper. I pulled a container filled with leftover pizza from the chilly depths and placed it on the counter. "She's upstairs. In her room, I suppose." She nodded, becoming even more quiet. "How is she today?" "The same as yesterday," I said in an equally soft voice. "She did at least four hours of exercise before lunch. Then she fell asleep for an hour or so. I ran out to pick up some stuff from the store, and when I got home, she'd eaten a slice of ham and a piece of cheese for lunch." I grabbed a couple of plates out of the cabinet. "I don't expect her to join us for dinner." She frowned, taking the last bite from the apple before she dropped it in the trash can. "Is she ever going to get better? Surely she won't stay so ... angry forever, will she?" "I hope not, Pumpkin," I said. "Right now, I'm just trying to give her the space she needs to eventually get a grip." As the pizza turned around in the microwave, Carrie set the table. When she only put out three place settings, I gave her a stern look. "You know she's not going to come down and join us," she complained as she grabbed another mat from the drawer. "Even if she did, she wouldn't eat pizza." "It's the thought that counts," I said, grabbing some bottles of water from the fridge. "Speaking of thoughts," Carrie said as she walked over to me. "I thought it was time we had a talk." "Oh," I said, arching a brow. "About anything in particular?" She nodded. "Yeah. About you, actually. Specifically, your new body." I glanced down at myself. I'd long since given up trying to hide beneath too large sweatshirts and bulky pants. It was the beginning of September and Richmond was still in the throes of summer scorches. Today, I'd finally given in and grabbed some clothing out of the bundle of stuff Kara had given me. I thought the khaki skirt and light blue t- shirt had looked rather nice on me. "What's wrong with it?" Carrie rolled her eyes. It was a gesture that Melanie had despised, and seeing it being performed with her eyes and Carrie's practiced motions made me grin a little. "Okay, Daddy," she said, speaking slowly as if to a small child or an idiot. "You're a girl now. At least on the outside. Unfortunately, being a girl comes with different hygiene issues than being a boy does." I patted her on the shoulder. "Sweetie, I already know this. I've managed to survive three periods, haven't I? I think I've earned my wings." She sighed. "I wasn't talking about your cycle, Daddy. I was talking about your legs. And your pits." Her nose crinkled in disgust. "And your privates." My mouth dropped open. Then I looked down at myself again. True to Carrie's assessment, the shapely, slightly-tanned legs emerging from the bottom of the skirt and vanishing into a pair of pink Nikes was covered in fine strands of copper hair. I'd also realized a couple of days ago that my mound was starting to get a little unruly as well. "I ... I mean ..." I felt my face warm. Really, Doug? Are you getting embarrassed because it took your teenage daughter to point out all the sprouting fur? Or because you thought you could get by with not having to do any maintenance? Carrie continued to look at me. "Plus, you need to make sure you wash your face every night. And moisturize." "Moisturize?" I said, the word sounding alien on my tongue. She nodded. "You have great skin. Seriously. I was totally jealous when I saw Kara for the first time. Not all of us, before or after the Great Shift, have a practically flawless complexion. If you don't take care of it, it's not going to last." Fortunately, the dinging of the microwave announcing the pizza was ready, as well as the sound of Joseph's car pulling into the driveway, saved me from having to give any sort of response. Carrie shook her head and took the water from my hands. "To be continued at a later date," she promised. That evening, as I got ready for bed, I stared at myself in the mirror hanging on the front of the closet door. I'd readily accepted the fact, from the very beginning, that I had no choice but to wear women's undergarments. My old boxers didn't feel right on my wider hips and enlarged bottom. Not to mention that there was no way I would be able to get around without a bra to hold my amble bosom in place. I turned to the side, looking at myself. Yes, I was pretty. More than pretty. Downright gorgeous. But I could see the points Carrie had made earlier. However, she'd failed to mention my brows. They had become slightly scraggly and a bit bushy. I could remember how perfect they had looked the first time I saw my new reflection. Now, they looked like someone had tangled them with pieces of string. I wrapped a towel around my middle and headed down the hall to the bathroom. I wasn't sure if Joseph was still home and didn't want to chance him coming out of his room to see his father strutting down the hallway in a matching pink lace set from Victoria's Secret. I knocked on the door of the master bedroom. When I didn't hear anything, or anyone, I slowly opened the door and stuck my head inside. The bed, which had been in a constant state of disarray since our return, was empty. The large television on the other side of the room was turned to one of the new "religious" channels that had sprung up in recent weeks. Apparently, there were people who fully believed the Great Shift was the work of a higher power. The broadcasts from these new churches ran twenty-four seven, and there were two main schools of dogma. Some preached that God had swapped people around like He'd mixed up languages at Babel. To teach humanity a lesson in humility and empathy. After all, it was easier to walk a mile in someone else's shoes when you no longer had a choice in the matter. According to this particular sect, it was now up to the affected to learn to accept what they had become, and trust there was a divine reason behind it. Others, thankfully a minority for the moment, went the other direction. In their mind, Satan had been the mastermind behind the Shift. This new life was their hell and only through fighting against their situation would they find their way back to God in the hopes that they would be put right again. I grimaced when I realized the station was one of the latter ones. The person on the screen, a middle-aged woman with a buzz-cut, was shaking her fist and stirring up her audience. Thankfully, the sound was muted, sparing me from having to hear that drivel. After checking the master bath and finding it empty as well, I surmised that Melanie had gone for one of her late evening walks. The first couple of weeks after our change, she refused to leave the house at all. I'd wanted her to come with Carrie and me to our family doctor, just to get checked out. However, Melanie had steadfastly refused to accompany us. "I'm not going out looking like this," she screamed as she gestured at herself. I opened my mouth to say that what she was wearing wasn't that bad when I understood she wasn't talking about her clothes. I also remembered that she'd refused to get out of the car a single time we stopped on our way back from the beach. Not wanting to fight, I left her behind as I took our daughter to get examined. Since then, she had grudgingly accepted that she couldn't stay cooped up in the bedroom all day and night for the rest of her life. Occasionally, she would wait until the sun went down, and most people were at home behind drawn shades, then go for a long walk. Sometimes for several hours. I sighed and turned on the faucet in the garden tub. I'd been a tried and true shower guy before the Great Shift, and I had remained true to that aspect despite my new body. However, with this being my first time shaving something other than my face, I thought it would be a good idea to not have to maneuver around in the smaller space. Once the tub was filled with steaming water, I stripped out of the bra and panties, grabbed a fresh razor and a pink and white can of ladies' shaving cream from under Melanie's side of the dual sink, and slipped into the water. Settling back, I couldn't help but breath a deep sigh of relief as the heat surrounding me seemed to attack every aching point of stress and tension in my body. I lay there for several minutes, enjoying the sensation while wondering why I'd waited so long to try this. I couldn't count the number of times Melanie, and sometimes Carrie, announced that they needed a long, hot bath. I thought they'd just been lazy. Now I knew that there was something about floating in near-steaming water that was completely rejuvenating. I lifted one leg out of the water, lathering it up with a generous helping of lilac-scented foam. Then I took the razor, which had a light blue handle attached to a bright pink head containing five gleaming blades, and slowly pulled it along the flesh from my ankle to my knee. The carved path left behind revealed smooth, hair-free flesh. Since I didn't want to end up with a zillion cuts that would leave me looking like I'd run through a field of briars without any pants, I took a rather long time removing all the hair from my legs. Once, halfway through the second limb, I realized the water was getting cold. I drained three-fourths of it and filled the tub up again. When I was done with my legs, having only nicked myself twice, I put more foam under my arms and shaved them as smooth as my legs. Placing the razor on the edge of the tub, I lifted my hips to look at the bushy patch spread out across the mound between my legs. As a guy, I would never have dared take a sharp metal object anywhere near my privates. Now that I was a girl, still getting familiar with my new layout, the idea was even less appealing. Perhaps I would make a trip out to the local pharmacy in the morning and buy one of those electric trimmers. After all, I didn't need to be completely bare down there. I just needed to tame the jungle a bit. Relaxing back in the water, I closed my eyes and let my thoughts drift aimlessly. Despite the craziness that the Shift had created, it seemed like the majority of people affected were beginning to get acclimated to their situation. Sure, suicides and murders had skyrocketed the first couple of weeks as people either decided that death was a better alternative to having to live in a body that wasn't their own. Or made the choice to take out their frustrations about the swap on the person who'd ended up in their old body. While I lay in the soothing water, I realized that, at some point in the past few weeks, had stopped thinking of my new form as "Kara's body." The strange way it moved and felt, especially compared to my old, muscular male self, no longer seemed alien. I no longer found my eyes being automatically pulled down to look at the tops of my breasts. To me, they were now just another part of myself, like my fingers or toes. Or other, more intimate, areas. As could be expected, once the guilt of taking Kara's body had settled down into a more understandable level of acceptance, I decided to explore my more unfamiliar parts. The only action that had occurred down below since the Shift was solely related to maintenance. Washing, drying, wiping, and activities related to monthly feminine hygiene. One evening, as I lay in the bed trying to make myself go to sleep, I hesitantly slipped a finger under the waistband of my panties. It took a great deal of pushing myself to make me move my finger down in between the soft folds of my sex. The area was completely dry, as devoid of moisture as a desert. After a few minutes of fumbling around, I gave up and turned over onto my side, frustrated. I wasn't aroused and attempting to just finger myself when in such a state had been stupid. A couple of nights later, I decided to try again. This time, I pulled up an old video on my phone for assistance. On the night of Melanie's fortieth birthday, she had complained to me that she was feeling "old and used up." She said she missed the days when we were young and wild, making love at the drop of a hat. I was more than happy to show her that time had done nothing to detract from either her beauty or my desire. In a fit of daring, I set my phone on the nightstand, video recorder going in order to capture the moment as a shield against any future self-esteem issues. We made love for over an hour, with me going down on her several times, resulting in multiple orgasms barely muffled by the pillow she pressed over her face. I closed my eyes, listening to the audio recording of that particular evening. When I ran my finger along the velvety slit between my legs, I remembered how she'd cooed when my tongue had done the same to hers. How she had gasped as I used my thumbnail to tease and torture the engorged nub of her clit. As I flitted between the world of that long-ago evening and the more immediate machinations of my own hands, I felt a flood of wetness swirl in, accompanied by the slightly musky scent of arousal. My nipples hardened beneath the thin cotton t-shirt, and my free hand went to give them some attention. When my fingers caressed my clit, an explosion of warmth and need rang through me. I felt my back arch all on its own as my fingers slipped inside my warm, gooey center and came back out again. I bit down on my lip, trying to keep the moans my actions were creating trapped within my mouth. A few managed to break free, echoing slightly around the small room. Eventually, after what seemed like the longest uphill climb in recorded history, I reached the apex of my arousal and jumped off. The release was a shotgun blast of euphoria and electricity, frying my nerves and sending wave upon wave of giddy pleasure rolling throughout my body. My toes curled wildly, and a long deep moan of sheer pleasure bubbled out between my lips. When it was done, I lay there in the damp sheets, trembling happily. I'd had innumerable orgasm as a man. None of them came anywhere close to being as good as my first as a woman. Still tangled up in the covers, heart racing like a stallion, I had drifted easily off to sleep. I thought about that first evening while in the bath, the memory as crystal clear as if it'd just happened. Remembering caused my body to react to the stimulus, and my nipples, just slightly out of the water, hardened in anticipation. I ran the fingers of one hand down over my sternum, between my floating breasts. Continuing down, I lightly traced around my bellybutton. I paused for a moment, wondering if I should get it pierced. I'd always thought there was something extra sexy about a woman with a pierced navel. However, my musing was only for a second or two, then I went back to the task at hand. Literally. Beneath the soapy water, I ran my fingers through the curling red hairs, tugging lightly on them. Then my fingers sailed over the edge of my mons, moving right toward the increasingly warming area between my legs. "Having fun?" a voice asked from beside me, sounding rather loudly in the still of the bathroom. I jerked upright, my hand flying away from my sex so fast it might have been shot from a cannon. An embarrassingly girlish scream jumped out of my throat as I whipped around in the tub to look over at who had intruded on my moment. Bubbly water splashed against the edge, some of it going over to land on the tile floor. Melanie sat on the edge of the sink, staring at me in an unmistakably judging manner. Her hair, which apparently hadn't been washed in a couple of weeks, was matted and plastered to her skull. Her puffy cheeks were red and splotchy, from either the heat outside or the flames of anger she constantly stoked. Her doughy legs were crossed at the ankles, swinging back and forth with a casual pace, and her mouth was twisted into a smug grimace of displeasure. I quickly covered my exposed breasts with one arm, shielding them from her glaring eyes. I felt a little silly doing it, since she'd seen me naked in this body before. However, this time her gaze gave me the impression of a peeping tom, rather than the glance of another female. "Melanie," I snapped, trying to get my heart to climb back down out of my throat. "What the hell?" "Please, don't stop on my account, Douglas." She leaned forward a bit. "It looked like you were just getting to the good part." I shook my head. "It's not what you think," I said, even as I wondered why I was feeling defensive. Before the Great Shift, I masturbated every now and then, to work off a little stress when Melanie was away or just not in the mood. I knew that she did the same thing on occasion. Now that we were in bodies no longer compatible for intercourse, it shouldn't have been a big deal for me to take care of things on my own. However, that didn't stop me from feeling as if my wife had just caught me cheating. "It's not what I think?" she said in a smug tone. "How would you know what the hell I think? I'm not your wife anymore. Your soulmate. I'm the smelly little fat kid at the end of the hall." She shook her head. "I'm glad that this fucking brat wasn't any older. Can you imagine if he'd been Carrie's age? All those hormones? We might have made the mistake of trying to put our marriage back together again. That would have been incest. An abomination of the flesh." I didn't respond. I'd heard some downright scary tales the past couple of weeks about religious nuts who'd identified couples who had swapped bodies with their post-adolescent children. They'd attempted to remain together, despite the fact that the bodies they were in shared a lot of DNA. Several of the pairs had been found burned to death in their beds of sin. Melanie shook her head, clicking her tongue at me. "Still, look at you now, Douglas. Shaving your legs?" She held up the lacy panties from where I'd put them on the counter. "Lingerie? What's next? Makeup? Miniskirts?" She dropped the pink underwear. "How long before you've got some guy's sweaty dick in your mouth? Or up your cunt?" "Shut up," I said, climbing out of the tub to grab a towel from the rack. "I'm not attracted to men just because I look like this now." "No, but they're going to be attracted to you." She laughed cruelly. "You have no idea about how the world works, babe. Ninety-three percent of us got a new body. Not everyone changed their gender." I wrapped the thick terrycloth material around my wet, soapy mid- section, making sure my breasts and ass were covered. "What the hell are you trying to say, Melanie?" "A lot of older men are now in younger, more virile bodies. And more than a few boys who were previously gangly, pimply-faced teens are inhabiting the bodies of stronger, more mature men." She winked one of those beady eyes. "You are just the kind of morsel they're going to be hungry for. You might not be attracted to men, Douglas. But that's not going to stop a great deal of them from taking what they want." She shrugged one round shoulder. "Trust me, if things head in that direction, you're better off going along than resisting. At least, that way, you can get a little fun out of it." "You're disgusting," I spat, reaching beside her to grab my underwear. "You're right, though. At least about one thing." "Oh? And what is that?" "I don't know what you think anymore. I don't even know you at all." Then I stormed out of the bathroom and down the hall before the tears I felt beginning to form could break free. For the next few days, I avoided Melanie as much as I could. I also warned Carrie that I wasn't sure her mother was getting any better and asked that she not be alone with her if possible. I didn't want to believe that Melanie would hurt her own daughter, but I didn't want to chance that some of my wife's vitriol wouldn't get re-directed at the person now walking around with her old face. On Saturday morning, Carrie came downstairs to breakfast fully clothed and totally awake. She grabbed a cup of coffee, since her new body was a caffeine addict, and sat down at the table. Joseph, currently spooning cereal into his mouth on autopilot, gave her a confused look. "I thought it was Saturday," he mumbled around a mouthful of Captain Crunch. "It is," she replied. She reached out and snatched a piece of bacon from the plate on the center of the table. Her brother continued to stare at her. "Why are you all chipper and dressed so early? Job interview?" She stuck her tongue out at him. It was amusing, given her current appearance. "No," she said, waving the piece of charred pig flesh around. "I'm going to the mall. There's a couple of big sales at some of the department stores." Then she turned to look at me. "I'm sorry," she continued. "I meant 'we're' going to the mall." I nearly dropped the pan of eggs I was holding. My head looked from Carrie to Joseph, who had a huge grin on his face, and back again. "Excuse me?" I asked her as I put the pan down on the stove and crossed my arms over my chest. "Who might this 'we' be?" She munched on the bacon for a moment before answering. "Us. You and I. Me and thee." She shrugged one shoulder. "Joseph can come, too. If he wants." Her brother shook his head. "Yeah, I think I'll pass." I continued to stare at Carrie, waiting for more of an explanation. After she'd downed another piece of bacon and half her orange juice, she gave me an expertly practiced eye roll. "Dad, it's time to face facts. Kara gave you a half dozen outfits, nearly all of which are appropriate for only the beach or the pool. I gave you some of my old stuff that was too big for me, but all of that is geared toward younger girls. You're practically twenty-one. You need clothes that aren't bathing suits, found in the juniors' department, or giant workout clothes." "Is that so," I asked, unable to keep a grin from forming on my face. I had always been closer to Carrie than Joseph. I think mainly because Joseph was too much like I'd been. Carrie had been Daddy's Girl since the day we brought her home from the hospital. As she'd matured into a young woman, we had drifted apart. I couldn't relate anymore to the girlish girl my tomboy of a daughter had become. Now, it seemed, fate had given me a second chance to reconnect with her. "Daddy, you said you were going back to work on Monday. Well, you can?t go back in your old clothes. We shipped them all to Grandma, remember?? I nodded. ?And you think I should wear something other than that blue one-piece bathing suit to the office?? Another eye roll. ?I mean, I?m sure some of your guys wouldn?t mind. At least, until they found out the red-hot momacita strutting around was really their boss.? An amused giggle came from her mouth. Joseph nearly choked on his juice, and I had to laugh along with them. ?Fine,? I said, holding up my hands in defeat. ?We can go shopping. Can I trust you to help me pick out things that are respectable and proper? I don?t want to end up visiting a site looking like I?m on my way to a rave.? She held up one hand and used the index finger of the other to draw a cross over her heart. ?I promise,? she said. ?Everything will be super above-board, sir.? ?See that it is,? I said, snapping her a jaunty salute. Joseph just shook his head. ?This is going to be a disaster of Titanic proportions.? I made Carrie wait until after I?d cleaned up from breakfast before I agreed we could go. Joseph gave us a wave as he headed out the back door to return to his room over the garage. ?Maybe I?ll catch up with you two later,? he said. Though something in his voice told me he wasn?t really planning on it. I almost invited Melanie to go with us, thinking her getting out of the house for a while might be a good thing. She?d always loved going shopping, even without Carrie. However, when I knocked on the closed door, the only response was an increase in the volume of the television. When we reached the giant bastion of consumerism, I found a parking spot relatively close and climbed out of the car. Carrie followed my lead and then grabbed my hand to pull me toward the nearest anchor store?s entrance. Right before we went inside, she turned around and looked at me. ?Okay, Daddy,? she said, her voice dropping into something serious. ?I want you to trust me, okay? I promise, no frilly dresses, no risqu? clubwear. But you have a feminine body and boy clothes are not going to fit it properly.? I stared at her for a moment before glancing up at my reflection in the thick glass door. I?d squeezed into one of Carrie?s donated pair of shorts. The length in the legs was acceptable. As was the fit around the waist. However, if I turned slightly to the side, it looked as if the rear of the dark blue shorts had been painted onto my ass. As much as I wasn?t really looking forward to the next couple of hours, I had to admit my daughter had a point. I was going to have to start dressing like a girl. ?Okay,? I agreed. ?I?ll trust you. But nothing that looks like something a streetwalker would wear. Deal?? ?Deal!? she said with a little squeal of excitement. I had to give Carrie props, she was true to her word. We traveled from one store to another, looking through racks for things that would fit us. I tried to steer as close to masculine in my choices as I could. Flared pants. Large blouses. Sweaters in a myriad of colors. Each time, Carrie would give me a look and shake her head. ?I?m the one who?s forty-five,? she chided. ?So I?ll be the one picking out the mom clothes.? ?Pumpkin, you do need to remember that I occasionally have to travel to construction sites as a part of my job. A miniskirt and baby tee isn?t going to cut it in those cases.? She laughed, then pulled a pair of jeans off a nearby rack. ?I know you sometimes like to wear jeans to work.? She handed them to me, along with a couple of shirts she had draped over her arm. ?You try this stuff on. I?ll see if I can find anything else I like.? Before I could protest, she?d pushed me to the nearest dressing room and practically dragged me inside one of the cubicles. I hung the clothing on the pegs jutting out of the wall and peeled the tight shorts off me. The black t-shirt came next. Turning around, I looked at myself in the mirror. Not knowing what type of clothing my over-enthusiastic daughter might pick, I?d chosen to wear a comfortable bra and panty set in an off-white color. Glancing at the waiting garments, I sighed. ?Okay, let?s do this.? Amazingly, I really liked the jeans. They were a little snug on my hips, but the waist was perfect and the bottom supported my large ass without drawing a lot of attention to it. The legs stopped just above my feet and I couldn?t help but grin as I wiggled my toes. When I first noticed my new body, I?d discovered the nails on my feet had been freshly painted a light pink shade. By now, nearly every trace of the polish was gone. A part of me felt like it was a horrible loss. Carrie had picked out four shirts for me to try as well. Two of them were really great. They had three-quarter length sleeves and a neckline that didn?t drop down below my collarbones. One was a light green and the other a royal blue. Both seemed to compliment the mess of copper hanging down onto my back in a tight ponytail. The third shirt fit okay, but the way the top opening swooped down, it definitely put more cleavage on display than I was comfortable with. The fourth was a bit too tight across the front, revealing just how large the globes on my chest really were. By the time I was finished trying on that group, Carrie arrived with another armload of things. ?How did they fit?? She asked. When I told her, she nodded in agreement. ?Yeah. I was afraid that one was going to be too small. But I?ll grab another couple of pairs of those jeans in different colors.? She started to close the door of the dressing room. ?Don?t be mad, please?? Alone again, I wondered what had her so worried that I would be angry. Then I lifted the first item off the pile and instantly understood. She?d brought me more womanly attire. The first garment was a grey skirt that looked rather business-like. Of course, the way it clung to my hips, I had to ponder what type of business. It did look good on me, so I put it in the ?maybe? pile. Next was a long dress with a cinched waist, short sleeves, and short-v neckline. The hem of the dress stopped just below my knees. I stared at myself as I turned back and forth, letting the bottom of the floral dress flair outward. As much as I didn?t want to like it, I couldn?t wipe the grin off my face. Carrie had selected a couple of skirts that were more casual than the gray one. Both of these stopped a little short from my knees, but weren?t that bad overall. There were two more dresses, similar to the first, that rounded out the rest. I changed back into my original clothes and exited the dressing room with a load of clothing draped over my arms. Carrie was waiting at the end of the hall, her own arms bearing new clothes. ?I don?t like the way mom looks at me when I?m wearing her stuff,? she confessed as we headed toward the cashier. ?It?s not my fault that her clothes happen to now fit my body.? I nudged her gently with my shoulder. ?I know, Pumpkin. Now you?ll have clothes that are all yours.? When we left the store, we both had large bags in each hand. Carrie headed further into the mall, not looking back at me. For a second, I didn?t follow. Hadn?t we just bought enough clothing to get by for a while? Where was she going? I hurried to catch up to her. Before I could ask where she was going, she stopped in front of one of the shops. Turning around to look at me, she gave me a forced smile. I glanced up to see the name of the business before us. ?Cool Cuts,? I said aloud. ?A beauty shop?? Her face reddened and she shrugged. ?Please?? I stared for another couple of seconds and then hung my head in defeat. I had always been a pushover where my daughter was concerned. I tried to ignore the way she did a little dance of happiness and followed her through the door inside. A large man who reminded me a bit of Don Corleone approached. He looked at Carrie for a moment. ?You were female before.? His voice was gruff. Like he had a habit of smoking ten packs of cigarettes a day. ?But you,? he continued, bringing his gaze around to me. ?You were not.? Feeling a bit bold, I cocked my hip to the side as I?d seen both Melanie and Carrie do from time to time and gave him an unblinking stare. ?What makes you say that?? He laughed. ?Because, darling, you are wearing zero makeup and that gorgeous head of hair of yours is overrun with split-ends.? He grinned and took my bags from my hands, passing them to Carrie. Then he put his hand on my arm and pulled me to one of the chairs. ?Not to worry, honey,? he said as he bid me sit before the mirror. ?My name is Rebecca, and you are not the first Shift Fem to come through that door.? ?Shift Fem?? I asked. ?Shifted Female. You were a guy before and now you?re a girl.? I nodded, sitting down. ?I get it.? I arched a brow. ?You?re a what? Shift Male?? He laughed again. ?Close. Shift Him.? He patted his distended stomach. Not much of a change, really. Just different plumbing.? She nodded at Carrie. ?Wife?? ?Daughter. Just in my wife?s body.? He nodded, draping a cloth over me and securing it behind my neck. I felt a gentle tug and the restrained hair tumbled down over my shoulders. Immediately after, there was an audible gasp. ?No, no, no. Darling,? He said as he turned the chair around so I faced him. ?You cannot keep doing this to your hair. It is far too beautiful to be tied back all the time. I will fix this,? he said with a raspy note of conviction. ?I will put this right.? I started to argue that I didn?t want anything more significant than a trim. Rebecca shushed me and went to work repairing the neglect I was apparently guilty of. I asked if it were possible to cut it all short so I didn?t have to mess with it anymore than necessary. The look I got as my response would have wilted steel. Rather than watch Rebecca work in the mirror, I looked around. There were a few other ladies getting serviced. Most of them looked as terrified as I did. Shift Fems. Carrie sat in one of the plush leather chairs on the other side of the room. She leafed through a magazine while another man, this one very slender and looking around fifteen, worked on her toes. When she caught me staring, she grinned and pointed at the basin before her. Then at me. I sighed and rolled my eyes. I wasn?t the least bit surprised she wanted me to get a pedicure. Would probably insist on a manicure as well. This shopping trip wasn?t doing anything but rushing me down the road to full feminization. Problem was, I really didn?t feel like putting on the brakes. Not just yet. I told myself that if I had to deal with the not-so-pleasant aspects of womanhood, then I damned well deserved the more pleasant ones. ?There!? Rebecca announced. ?Another masterpiece.? I turned my attention back to the large mirror before me. The bright copper strands fell down around my shoulders in little waves that caught the ambient light and seemed to wave and undulate. The bangs were neatly trimmed and helped to frame my face perfectly. I turned my head left and right, loving the way it swung out away from my neck then dropped back down into that perfect style. ?Well?? the man behind me asked. ?Still want me to chop it all off?? I nearly gasped at her suggestion, despite it being my own rather recently. I shook my head quickly. ?No. I think this will do just fine.? I turned to the side, staring at my profile for a moment before turning back again. I felt like I was seeing myself for the first time. Really seeing myself, rather than Kara. Something in my head seemed to click. I thought I?d accepted the new me. Until that moment, however, I didn?t realize I was only lying to myself. Melanie had taunted me on turning into a girl. Teasing mercilessly about how I was becoming less and less of a man as the days went by. Now, I discovered, she was right. Only, it didn?t make me angry. Or scared that I was losing myself. I wasn?t my body. Having breasts, and periods, and all the rest didn?t make me someone I wasn?t. It only amplified the person I?d always been. ?Holy crap,? I whispered. ?I?m ... beautiful.? He grinned, giving me an amused look. ?Honey, was there ever any doubt?? Authors? Note: This ends this chapter of Douglas? story, but not the end of the tale. The next one picks up a month later and is called ?Fall Follies.? As always, comments and suggestions are welcome. Sincerely, Limbo?s Mistress.